John Phillips Civil War Veteran Talks About His Narrow Escape Story – Ironton Register 16 Feb. 1888 – The reporter of the Register strolled into John Phillips’ Buggy Works* and get the proprietor to talk about the war. Mr. John Phillips was in the 33rd Ohio, but for a large part of the time served in that most romantic branch of the army – the Signal Corps.
He went in early and came out late and saw much of the campaigning of General Grant’s, Sherman’s, and Pap Thomas’ armies. In the course of the talk, he referred to his experience in Moccasin Bend, Chattanooga, when Sherman built the pontoons, and flanked the rebs.
That was a job which I didn’t delight in,” said Mr. Phillips. “We started down the bend, in the night, past the rebs frowning cannon. The shores were bristling with the enemy’s guns, and every minute was a moment of peril. Oh, it’s been a long time since then, and the scenes are very vague in my mind.
“I was then but a boy, but didn’t see things as I do now; but I remember how silently we wound around that bend, and how every fellow held his breath, lest the enemy would hear the boats slip by.
“At one town, I recollect, one of our fellows fell into the river, and boy-like, I smiled too loud at the poor fellow’s discomfiture, and forthwith a captain drew his sword and swore he’d run it clear through me if he heard another breath out of me. I don’t remember the details of the big strategy or the momentous plans involved on our little trip around Moccasin Bend half as well I do that captain, glaring at me, and threatening to run me through if I made another bit of noise.
“But I do remember when we got to the landing-place, there was a lot of drift between the boat and the shore and stepped on the drift and went “kersous” in the water, but the captain didn’t run me through for laughing, for it was he who stepped into the river this time. But there was no danger in laughing there anyhow, and not much reason, for the enemy, had opened fire on us and the balls and shells were flying in a lively style.
“As I sprang up the bank, a comrade by my side was shot through the head and fell. Many were killed then, but amid the rain of death we build the pontoons, and thus captured Chattanooga and Lookout, and brought in the fiercer fight of Mission Ridge.
“You must have had some singular experiences while in the Signal Corps, Mr. Phillips?” suggested the reporter.
“Well, yes, it was an exciting service, but not of the battle kind. It was there where the sharpshooters got after you. I remember one time after the Battle of Mission Ridge, and when near Ringgold, we put up a station on the top of a mountain – a splendid place to see the country everywhere. We sawed off the top of a white oak and put a little platform there. As soon as I was ready, I was sent up to signal. I took my flags and began fluttering away with them – all the army boys know how it is done – but immediately I got pretty badly scared. I didn’t brandish my flag just as the officer in charge liked, so he sent up another comrade to take my place and I wasn’t sorry either. The fact is, the very first wave I made, “zip” came a bullet next to my left ear.
“Of course, it disconcerted me. Then “zip” came another and another; and I couldn’t help thinking if one of those balls struck me, what a fall I would make, and between the balls and thinking of the big fall, I naturally got unsteady. But it didn’t fare quite so well with the man who took my place, for he had scarcely taken the flag when a ball struck his arm and he had to come down, and we were compelled to abandon that station. A sharpshooter or two had got there before us and had occupied the ground.
“One time down near Resaca, the same day Gen. McPherson was killed, our signal detachment was surrounded and we got into such a tight place that we had to abandon our horses and strike for the woods. It seemed to me I traveled 50 miles that day before I got anywhere. But come up some time, when I have a chance to think about it, and I’ll try to drum up a ‘Narrow Escape’ for you. I read in the Register what the boys tell, with a great deal of interest, and suppose I’ll have to tell mine. But come around again when I have had time to think one up.”
“Thanks, but this will do this time,” said the reporter.
“Why, you ain’t going to put the talk in the paper? Asked Mr. John Phillips.
“Of course, goodbye.”
*Phillips Buggys Works of Ironton, Ohio, owned by Mr. John Phillips. This has grown, he said, to quite an extensive manufactory, employing thirty or forty hands now. Mr. Phillips wants to come south and double the capacity of his plant, and Mr. Holliday is certain that if the foundry locates here the buggy works will also come. – The Journal and Tribune, Knoxville, Tenn., 11 Feb. 1889
SOURCE: 1882 – 1883 Ironton, Ohio City Directory. John Phillips owned a business on 39 2nd between Olive and Vernon.
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