Just before we emerged into the open ground, we noticed what, I think, was common in many fights--that the enemy had begun to bowl round shot at us, probably from failure of shell.We passed across the valley in good order, although the men fell rapidly all along the line.As we climbed the hill, our pace slackened, and the fire grew heavier.At this moment a battery opened on our left, the shots crossing our heads obliquely.It is this moment which is so printed on my recollection.I can see now, as if through a window, the gray smoke, lit with red flashes, the long, wavering line, the sky blue above, the trodden furrows, blotted with blue blouses.Then it was as if the window closed, and I knew and saw no more.No other scene in my life is thus scarred, if I may say so, into my memory.Ihave a fancy that the horrible shock which suddenly fell upon me must have had something to do with thus intensifying the momentary image then before my eyes.
When I awakened, I was lying under a tree somewhere at the rear.The ground was covered with wounded, and the doctors were busy at an operating-table, improvised from two barrels and a plank.At length two of them who were examining the wounded about me came up to where I lay.A hospital steward raised my head and poured down some brandy and water, while another cut loose my pantaloons.The doctors exchanged looks and walked away.I asked the steward where I was hit.
``Both thighs,'' said he; ``the doctors won't do nothing.''
``No use?'' said I.
``Not much,'' said he.
``Not much means none at all,'' I answered.
When he had gone I set myself to thinking about a good many things I had better have thought of before, but which in no way concern the history of my case.A half-hour went by.I had no pain, and did not get weaker.At last, I cannot explain why, Ibegan to look about me.At first things appeared a little hazy.I remember one thing which thrilled me a little, even then.
A tall, blond-bearded major walked up to a doctor near me, saying, ``When you've a little leisure, just take a look at my side.''
``Do it now,'' said the doctor.
The officer exposed his wound.``Ball went in here, and out there.''
The doctor looked up at him--half pity, half amazement.``If you've got any message, you'd best send it by me.''
``Why, you don't say it's serious?'' was the reply.
``Serious! Why, you're shot through the stomach.You won't live over the day.''
Then the man did what struck me as a very odd thing.He said, ``Anybody got a pipe?'' Some one gave him a pipe.He filled it deliberately, struck a light with a flint, and sat down against a tree near to me.Presently the doctor came to him again, and asked him what he could do for him.
``Send me a drink of Bourbon.''
``Anything else?''
``No.''
As the doctor left him, he called him back.
``It's a little rough, doc, isn't it?''
No more passed, and I saw this man no longer.Another set of doctors were handling my legs, for the first time causing pain.
A moment after a steward put a towel over my mouth, and I smelled the familiar odor of chloroform, which I was glad enough to breathe.In a moment the trees began to move around from left to right, faster and faster; then a universal grayness came before me,--and I recall nothing further until I awoke to consciousness in a hospital-tent.
I got hold of my own identity in a moment or two, and was suddenly aware of a sharp cramp in my left leg.I tried to get at it to rub it with my single arm, but, finding myself too weak, hailed an attendant.``Just rub my left calf,'' said I, ``if you please.''
``Calf?'' said he.``You ain't none.It's took off.''
``I know better,'' said I.``I have pain in both legs.''
``Wall, I never!'' said he.``You ain't got nary leg.''
As I did not believe him, he threw off the covers, and, to my horror, showed me that Ihad suffered amputation of both thighs, very high up.
``That will do,'' said I, faintly.
A month later, to the amazement of every one, I was so well as to be moved from the crowded hospital at Chattanooga to Nashville, where I filled one of the ten thousand beds of that vast metropolis of hospitals.Of the sufferings which then began I shall presently speak.It will be best just now to detail the final misfortune which here fell upon me.Hospital No.2, in which I lay, was inconveniently crowded with severely wounded officers.After my third week an epidemic of hospital gangrene broke out in my ward.
In three days it attacked twenty persons.
Then an inspector came, and we were transferred at once to the open air, and placed in tents.Strangely enough, the wound in my remaining arm, which still suppurated, was seized with gangrene.The usual remedy, bromine, was used locally, but the main artery opened, was tied, bled again and again, and at last, as a final resort, the remaining arm was amputated at the shoulder-joint.Against all chances I recovered, to find myself a useless torso, more like some strange larval creature than anything of human shape.Of my anguish and horror of myself I dare not speak.I have dictated these pages, not to shock my readers, but to possess them with facts in regard to the relation of the mind to the body; and I hasten, therefore, to such portions of my case as best illustrate these views.