Campaign Chronicle
... a chain of hills overlooking Nose’s Creek. Daniel said that by not counting Wheeler’s cavalry, who picket the right flank and Jackson’s on the left, our front extends seven miles and is both anchored and dominated by Kennesaw. From our signal station at Big Kennesaw, 691 feet Daniel said, Johnston’s observers can see all the way to Atlanta about 20 miles south, and the same for other directions. Unless it is night, all Union movement can be detected from up here. This is all actually pretty exciting! It is now about 10 A.M. and the union skirmishers are beginning to engage our pickets. Now their cannons are beginning to go into action. Their first shots plummet at the base of the mountain. We all laugh, knowing that we’re too far up for their artillery to reach. The second shot shoots halfway up. Some laughter still continues, although it’s faint. Next in a rapid succession, two more projectiles screech toward us. One strikes the cliff above our heads, and the other cuts in two a member of the 40th Mississippi. We all scramble for shelter on a crest behind the ledge. As this Union bombardment continues until noon, I can only describe it as “severe”. Artillery has been brought to the top of the mountain. Now we can give the Yankees a taste of their own bitter medicine. Though Sherman’s artillery can reach the top of the Mountain, even at its highest point, his infantry cannot. I look down at them while they’re stuck in six to eight inches of mud in this horrible rain… It’s now June 20th and this day brings nothing more than rain, rain, and more rain, plus more skirmishing that led to a ferocious little battle I haven’t heard much about. On June 21st Sherman refuses to fight until better weather conditions. Currently, it is a little after 5 P.M. on June 22nd . We’re about to advance on the Yanks at Kolb’s Farm. We’ve formed two lines of battle with Brown’s Brigade backed by Reynolds’s north of Powder Springs road and Cumming’s followed by Pettus’s on the south. First, Cumming’s Brigade goes forward and almost immediately experiences difficulties. The Union’s 14th Kentucky troops wait about 30 feet and fire at Cumming’s Brigade who, confused, fire an ineffective volley at them and fall back out of range. The Kentuckians continued fighting, but we did not pursue any further, and when Hascall’s artillery opened fire, we fled. I can’t believe a single Union regiment stopped an assault by two confederate brigades! We seem to have about 69 casualties. Far ahead from our column, Brown’s and Reynolds’s troops quickly fight off the 123rd New York and emerge from the forest. They advance forward toward Knipe’s and Ruger’s brigades at the low ridge overlooking Kolb’s Farm shouting the Rebel Yell. As soon as they are in optimum range, the Yankee batteries open up with a cross fire of shell and canister. Our troops became a “confused mass” and the survivors retreated back to the woods or sought shelter in a ravine in which Williams’s batteries pounded them with plunging shots, piling up corpses in heaps. This is the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen! Next, Hindman’s division emerges from the forest. Artillery fire quickly brings its left wing to a “stand still” and then drives it back in chaos. On their right, they only advanced a few yards before flopping to the ground. I see Walthall and Manigault’s men make a determined effort to reach the Union works, but they found their path blocked by a creek with a sloppy margin on each side. After the costly attempt to cross it, they took cover or took to their heels. Cannons alone have repulsed Hindman’s Division, none of it which has come within rifle range. So this ended Hood’s assault on Kolb’s Farm. Daniel later told me that we lost nearly 1500 men killed, wounded, or missing. I’m lucky to still be alive. In my opinion this was more like a one-side slaughter than a battle. A couple of days have passed, and it is now June 26th which happens to be Pentecost Sunday, and other than the skirmishing and cannonading along Olley’s Creek, the front is unusually quiet. Troops of both armies who are able attended religious services. Here and there, opposing pickets are arranging informal truces. After all, killing another Yank or Reb is not going to make any difference in the big picture, so why risk one’s life trying to do it? It is now June 27th, and I am stationed in a rifle pit on the top of the salient hill, under Cheatham’s division. At about 8 A.M, I heard fire open on Kennesaw a couple miles over. This will be a huge battle; I can feel it in my bones. Worse than Kolb’s Farm I bet. I really wish I was back at home with something warm to eat. Nevertheless, I’m poised and ready for the Feds to attack. Now, here comes Davis’s troops it looks like starting up the incline first at double-quick then running. I laugh to myself knowing that unwittingly the Federals have chosen to attack the troops in Johnston’s Army that are the least likely to give way before any attack. This salient hill is the only weak spot in our defense line. We’ll have to hold strong for a victory. As the fighting begins, I hear the sickening sound made by the thud of minie balls through human flesh all around me. The Yanks, panting, sweating, and half-exhausted, continue to ascend the hill leaving behind a trail of bloody dead and wounded. This is horrible! I reluctantly think I’ve killed five Yanks already. My rifle was getting too hot to handle, so I’ve discarded it and started throwing rocks at those blue coats. I see Col. McCook of the Union right up against our earthworks. “Co...