Valor Friday

I’ve talked about some missions where the bulk of the men earned a valor award. Usually this is for some particularly daring mission, usually by a small group. For example, George Glober‘s entire 10-man B-17 crew received the Distinguished Service Cross for a daring photo reconnaissance mission over the enemy-held Wake Island in 1942. In a similar photo recce flight in 1943 over the Solomon Islands, Jay Zeamer and his bombardier Joe Sarnoski earned Medals of Honor while the other eight men on the plane earned Distinguished Service Crosses. Most of the 24 men of the Andrews’ Raid (better known as The Great Locomotive Chase) of 1862 earned the Medal of Honor.

A forgotten skirmish in the summer of 1863 saw half the men of a 16-man last stand earn the Medal of Honor. They all share the same citation;

Was one of a detachment of 16 men who heroically defended a wagon train against the attack of 125 cavalry, repulsed the attack and saved the train.

Brevity such as this wasn’t unusual in these early Medal of Honor citations. This was one of the many Civil War actions that was not recognized with a medal until much later (1897 to be exact), and most of these latter day awards are similarly bereft of details.

The men were all of the 2nd Minnesota Volunteer Infantry. The 2nd Minnesota was organized in the summer of 1861. When Lincoln called for volunteers to fight for the Union, Minnesota was one of the first states to answer the call. The ranks of the 1st Minnesota Volunteer Infantry had filled quickly beyond capacity, so the 2nd was started up.

The 2nd Minnesota Infantry trained, assembled, and sent off to D.C. by October of that year. Along the way, their orders changed and the roughly 1,000 men of the 2nd were sent to Kentucky to report to General William Tecumseh Sherman, then commanding the Army of the Cumberland.

The 2nd Minnesota’s first combat action was on 2 Jan 1862, Mill Springs, Kentucky. The brigade commander to which they were assigned described the fighting thusly;

The contest was at first almost hand to hand; the enemy and the Second Minnesota were poking their guns through the same fence.

The Minnesotans quickly routed the Rebel force, and teamed with the 9th Ohio Infantry to conduct a bayonet charge into the retreating enemy. The battle would be the first major Union victory of the war.

They saw action in several other battles, Perryville, Battle’s Farm, the Tullahoma Campaign, Chickamauga, and Missionary Ridge. They saw almost two years of steady combat, and lost 281 men (2 officers and 91 enlisted men killed or mortally wounded, 2 officers and 186 enlisted men died of disease).

Among this was a small engagement on 15 February 1863 near Nolensville, Tennessee. Sixteen men of H Company, 2nd Minnesota Infantry were tasked with guarding a wagon train. They were attacked by two companies of Confederate cavalry troops, numbering in total about 125 men. Not being afraid of fighting, the Union infantrymen took what cover they could and shot with deadly accuracy. After freeing some Confederate horses of their Rebel burdens, the cavalry retreated to regroup, and decided the juice wasn’t worth the squeeze.

Any 8-to-1 last stand by a platoon of unprepared light infantry against a reinforced company of horse soldiers is clearly worthy of praise. First Sergeant Holmes, leading his men in the battle saw the odds stacked against them and told his men to hold fire until he’d given the signal. He said, “We can die, but we’ll never surrender.”

I can’t write the story out better than Dan Masters has done over at his blog;

A Fight for Corn: Eight Medals of Honor Awarded at Nolensville

Today, the little town of Nolensville, Tennessee is a bedroom community of the booming metropolis of Nashville. But during the Civil War, it was little more than a country crossroads all but forgotten by war. But in one afternoon in February 1863, an intrepid band of Federal soldiers fought off ten times their number of Confederate cavalry in a little remembered engagement that later resulted in eight of the men being awarded Medals of Honor. Borrowing The History Guy Lance Geiger’s favorite phrase, the little “affair” at Nolensville is history that deserves to be remembered…

By February 1863, Nolensville lay on the fringes of both the Army of the Cumberland and the Confederate Army of Tennessee. In the quiet months following Stones River, both armies scoured the area with foraging parties to secure the rich produce of middle Tennessee. Occasionally those foraging parties would blunder into one another and a sharp skirmish would ensue, and that is precisely what happened on February 15, 1863.

The Federal troops involved in this engagement came from Colonel Ferdinand Vanderveer’s brigade of General James B. Steedman’s division which lay in camp near town, tasked with protecting the boundary of the Federal position in middle Tennessee. A detail of 60 men from the 2nd Minnesota Infantry were ordered out that morning to secure 10 wagons full of hay and corn for the command and soon found themselves in the fight of their lives.

“They were loading their wagons from a large and well-filled crib when they were suddenly surrounded by two companies of Confederate cavalry numbering about 125 men,” remembered Colonel Judson Bishop of the 2nd Minnesota. “The cavalry charged down upon them, firing their carbines and yelling, ‘surrender you damned Yanks!’ Our boys did not think it necessary to surrender, but commenced firing in return with deliberate aim, emptying a saddle with almost every shot. The astonished cavalry soon quit yelling and withdrew out of range for consultation, then decided they had had enough of the ‘damned Yanks’ and disappeared altogether.” The plucky Federals suffered three men slightly wounded but gathered up their corn along with some wounded Confederate troopers, then headed triumphantly back to camp.

Their story of fending off ten times their number of Confederate cavalry electrified the dreary winter camp. In a general order to the brigade, Colonel Ferdinand Van Derveer said the “little affair is one of the most creditable of the campaign and deserves to be remembered and cited as worthy of the emulation of all.” General Steedman agreed and sent a detailed report of the “little affair” to General Rosecrans’ headquarters in Nashville. Ultimately eight Medals of Honor would be awarded for this fight over hay and corn, one of the highest totals for any engagement during the war.

Among those recipients was Milton Hanna, a private in Co. H of the 2nd Minnesota, who provided the following vivid description of the engagement to the editors of Deeds of Valor.

On Sunday morning, February 15, 1863, after inspection and before breaking ranks, we were ordered to reported to regimental headquarters. Here we found Co. C of the 9th Ohio commanded by a second lieutenant who was awaiting us with First Lieutenant Harrison R. Couse of the 2nd Minnesota; he being the ranking officer had command of both companies.

We received orders to go to the front to forage for mules and started with ten teams. We marched south along the turnpike about three miles from camp on a crossroad known as Concord Church Road. Here a colored man informed us that just over the hill about a half mile away near where the turnpike crossed over the 6th Alabama Cavalry [note: this is likely in error as the 6th Alabama Cavalry was not in middle Tennessee at this time- DM] , 500 strong, had camped the night before. After satisfying ourselves that this was true, we turned to the left on the mud road and went a mile east to a farmhouse.

At this point, Sergeant Lovilo H. Holmes received orders from Lieutenant Couse to take 14 men and four wagons and head in a southwesterly direction to the foot of a hill near where the turnpike crossed over and where the enemy was supposed to be while he with the rest of the company should keep on east about three miles to another farmhouse to load the other six wagons. We could not understand why we were separated as there was more forage at either place than the ten wagons could hold.

On reaching the farmhouse located on a little hill with a small creek some eight or ten rods away, we came to a leading from the house some 500 yards in length, running east and west, at the head of which were some barns, cribs, etc., arranged in the form of a letter V. The sergeant at once stationed sentinels at different points to prevent surprise and John Vale, who stood at the foot of the hill, was soon hailed by a colored man coming on the run and nearly out of breath yelling, “See ‘em, see ‘em!”

The enemy were west of the turnpike and had passed into the timber where we were unable to see them. They aimed to cut us off from our camp and the other foraging party. Sergeant Holmes ordered me to go to the crossroad and see what they were doing, while he returned to the cribs to prepare for defense. I placed myself in a cedar thicket a few rods from where the enemy crossed over the turnpike and could hear them talk and laugh as the horses’ hoofs pattered over the road.

The captain of Rebel cavalry remarked that he would pick up the squad of 14 bluecoats and take them prisoners as they would not offer fight but throw up their hands and beg for mercy. He would then send them with a small guard over the hill to the reserve. I returned at once and reported, but the enemy had already arrived at the farm. They filed into the field following the same course we had taken, spreading out and making as large a showing as possible, giving us a chance to count them. They numbered 125 men, all mounted. Holmes saw them coming to us first and ordered us to get under cover as best we could and hold our fire until he shot first. “We can die,” he said, “but we’ll never surrender.”

With these orders, we took refuge in the buildings. I took shelter in the lower part of the barn, Holmes with two men in the haymow, the others in cribs, hog pens, and other outbuildings between the house and barn. When the enemy reached the head of the lane, they put spurs to their horses, each trying to be the first to catch a live Yankee. On the came across the creek yelling, “Surrender, you damned Yanks!’ Moments seemed hours as we sighted our rifles and waited for the signal gun.

The advance was less than two rods from us when three shots from the haymow took down the leading horse which fell on its rider, and held him down during the fight, after which he was taken prisoner. Other shots quickly followed, killing eight horses, and wounding several men. The others quickly dismounted and running back, took shelter behind the fences. During their confusion, we had time to reload our guns and as some loaded quicker than others, we kept up a continuous fire until the enemy was driven away.

When the fight had continued for some time, I noticed a man sitting on his horse in a very dignified manner who, we afterwards learned, was the captain in charge of the command. He was out of my range, but I took careful aim and fired. As he did not heed my salute, I gave him two more charges of powder and ball. Those familiar with the old musket know what this meant at my end of the gun. He had occasion to dismount and lead his horse farther back. I yelled that I had to do something on account of my shoulder. This, of course, was done in jest, and the other boys began yelling and asking why they didn’t come and take the ‘damned Yanks’ if they wanted us.

The Confederates finally withdrew and when the smoke had cleared away, we found two dead Rebels, several wounded, and ten dead horses. We took three prisoners and three horses who had broken free from their riders and came to us. Jim Flannigan was mounted on one of the captured horses and sent to camp, and Charles Krause on another was dispatched to the remainder of the company which was nowhere to be seen at that time. We finished loading our wagons and prepared to return to camp. Our losses included Sergeant Holmes, Charles Liscomb, and Sam Louden, all slightly wounded, one mule killed, and a wagon tongue broken. We had three good horses to return to Uncle Sam for the dead mule.

There’s more at the source, so I encourage you to follow the link above.

The men involved in the “Battle of the Corn Crib” were;

First Sergeant Lovilo H. Holmes (later captain)

Corporal Samuel Wright

Corporal William A. Clark (later sergeant)

Private Homer Barnard (died at Chickamauga)

Private Joseph Burgher (wounded at Kennesaw Mtn and discharged for disability in 1865)

Private Nelson Crandall (died of disease January 15, 1864, at Chattanooga)

Private James Flanningan (later sergeant)

Private Milton Hanna (later corporal, wounded at Chickamauga)

Private Charles Krause (mortally wounded at Chickamauga)

Private Samuel Leslie (later corporal)

Private Charles Liscomb (discharged due to disability 22 Dec 1864, died two days later)

Private Louis Londrash (also listed as Lindrosh, wounded in hand at Chickamauga, captured August 26, 1864, near Atlanta, exchanged February 27, 1865; died in 1880)

Private Samuel Benjamin Loudon (wounded at Chickamauga, killed at Missionary Ridge)

Private Byron E. Pay (wounded at Chickamauga)

Private John Vale (later sergeant)

Of those who received the Medal of Honor, Wright died in Tribune, Kansas, Pay in Volga, South Dakota, Flannigan in Louisville, New York, and Vale in Davenport, Iowa. The other four men had returned to Minnesota, mostly in the area of Mankato.

It seems that all of the men who were alive in 1897 to receive the Medal of Honor did so, with no recognition being given to those who had already died. The majority of them had died during continued service during the Civil War (as noted above). Samuel Leslie died in 1896 at age 54. He had moved with his wife and children to Colorado. He was a uranium miner, and slipped and fell 700 feet off a levee on 9 Feb 1896.

I’m not sure why posthumous medals were not awarded to the other men. Here’s another article with more details on the lives of these men. 

Category: Army, Historical, Medal of Honor, Valor, We Remember