Ride to the sound of the battle

After my hour long walk a-square the yard (mowing. I mow in squares, not circles), DH and I started running a few errands. At one point I started to hear gunfire. Then cannons.

I looked at DH and he told me he had been hearing those noises for a while.

We discovered there was an encampment of civil war reenactors by the river, about 5 miles away.

I was reminded of an old story about my great great grandfather, John Carroll Flinn. He was a doctor living near Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tennessee during the war between the states (and before moving to Williamson County, Texas). He lived some 40 miles from Shiloh.

Around the time of the battle of Shiloh there were many skirmishes in the general area. At one point, Dr. Flinn could hear the sounds of  a battle. He packed his saddlebags and rode to the sound of the guns.

I have heard that the Yankees would not allow civilian doctors on the battlefields, but the Confederates would. Great great grandpa found the battlefield, arriving after the shooting had ceased. He treated the wounded and dying, blue and grey alike.

Distant cousins report he picked up a cannonball that day (and it is floating around somewhere in the family).

I am always in awe of those who ride or march or run to the fight, not away from it. I am not sure I would be one, but I am glad to know those people do still exist.