And it begins...

So I've been sending little stories and vignettes to some of my fellow "history nerds" over the past couple of weeks and I felt like it might be worth posting them here in the chance that others might find this interesting.

This comes from the personal memoirs of a one Robert Hale Strong of the 105 Illinois infantry, in reference to his time spent in a trench line along the Chattahootchie River during the Atlanta campaign. Having been advanced forward as skirmishers beyond the main line, Mr. Strong ecnounters a sticky situation...

"Just after we had crossed...some 25 or 30 men ran out from behind a tree and jumped into some timber below. It was so sudden we did not get a good look at their uniforms, and besides, all uniforms had begun to look alike what with the rain and sun always working on them. We could not believe that we were so near to the Rebs that part of them could be in our line, but I was sure they were Rebs.

'What troops are you?' I calls. 'Have you got behind?'

From up in the trees ahead, an officer says, 'What regiment are you?'

'One hundred and fifth Illinois,' says I. 'Who are you?'

'Come up into the line,' orders the officer.

Rickertt still thought them yanks and wanted to move up in line with them. I said no. This officer still continued our talk, with his men hid behind trees and ours behind a big log. All but me, I was excited and forgot to hide.

When the officer found he could not coax us up into his line, he stepped out and says to his men, 'Give them hell, kill them!'

All in one breath, he called to me, 'Come out here or I'll kill you!'

While his men stepped out from behind the trees and began shooting, our men jumped up and returned fire. The officer came right at me. He was not more than twenty rods away when he ordered me to surrender and leveled his revolver at me.

My gun was resting in my hand, uncocked, with the butt on the ground. At such times, one thinks and acts quickly, I knew I had no time to waste, so I brought my right foot up, pushed down with my foot until I heard the hammer snap as it raised into full-cock position, then brought my gun up and fired, all while you could draw a breath.

The rebel colonel, for he was a colonel, threw up his arms and over he went. But not before firing at me. His ball hit the log just in front of me and brushed my clothes. From the time he ordered his men to fire at us, and he and I fired at each other, was not more than ten seconds. It was all done in a breath, and we had the rebs on the run."

Hollywood couldn't have come up with this, eh?