Sevierville Sam’s Sorrow was nearly unbearable, when he sent his smaller cousin home, to a Smokey Mountain Reunion. Most of the mountain boys had gathered in Sevierville to join the Union ranks and crush the rebellion. They had fought at Shiloh, Chickamauga and Chattanooga, now they were following General Sherman to Knoxville, in order to help the beleaguered and starving troops of General Burnside. Sevierville Sam, his family, friends and neighbors felt confident in Sherman, they called him “Uncle Billy,” because he was just so ordinary. No flash, dash or dandy, Sherman was just like one the boys, didn’t say much, was a little mule, when he made up his mind, that was it, Sevierville Sam and his pards knew that those Dixie Boys would pay in spades. The Smokey Mountain Terrors would follow their “Uncle Billy” anywhere.
“Uncle Billy” had really taken a fancy to Big Sam, his big kin and all his smaller cousins. The General would often come, after dark, plop down around the fire and just mingle with the boys, not talk or ask questions, he just liked to listen. “Uncle Billy” once in a great while, would share in a splash of the Mountain Medicine, as it was passed around the fire, just to take the chill off. He told the boys, the reason why he didn’t partake more, was that he liked it too much, and anything that he enjoyed that much, was probably not good for him. Didn’t make much sense to Sevierville Sam and kin, but that was just their “Uncle Billy” and they bought into it.
The General did ask Sevierville Sam why his uniform and pants were so small, all Sam would say was, it’s the biggest they had. Big Sam and his big kin would encircle the fire in a particular way every night. The smaller cousins would first ring the fire and the outer rim would be circled by the larger mountain boys. They figured this kept the heat in and protected the wee ones from, the who knew what, out in the darkness. It seemed to work and it didn’t bother “Uncle Billy” so that’s just the way it was.
Many of the flatlanders in Sherman’s Army, kept away from these Smokey Mountain giants. These Tennessee boys had their own way of fighting and often it wasn’t the accepted practice of the Union Army. Sevierville Sam and the boys couldn’t see much use in everybody lining up on one side of a field, muskets on their shoulders and tramping forward over open ground and just let the Dixie Boys mow them down. Looking right down the barrels of muskets, cannon, with grape and canister delivering sheets of carnage and death, didn’t make much sense. The Smokey Mountain boys could lay low, with plenty of ammunition and pick off more of the Rebels in a shorter time, with less personal danger, than any of the regulars, who were trudging and dying needlessly.
“Uncle Billy” saw the advantage of having these Tennessee Mountain sharpshooters concentrate their accurate fire on a given area of the enemy line and then attempt to breach that target, at the point of the bayonet. Over the past several months this strategy had worked well and if it was working, why change it.
It had been a cold November, in 1863, Sherman’s troops were wet and freezing. The only reprieve that Sevierville Sam and his Smokey Mountain kin could look forward to, was a pull on the Mountain Medicine before hitting the bed roll. About 30 miles outside of Knoxville, the Dixie Boys had thrown up an earthwork, bristling with rifle portals and artillery. The General took his time studying the fortifications, sitting under a tree, glassing the enemy works, formulating the approach and pending destruction. His Tennessee sharpshooters would command a rise, about 300 yards from the Rebel line and lay a devastating and accurate fire to the enemy right. From this hill, the Johnny’s were not protected and an enfilading rain of death could be poured into the defenses, allowing his regulars to pierce the center and route the defenders. “Uncle Billy” conveyed his orders down the line and his Smokey Mountain Sharpshooters deployed on the rise.
Every “Big Kin” paired off with at least one smaller cousin, each pair lying flat, with a clear field of fire, overlooking the Dixie Boys position. Extra boxes of ammunition and water handy, Sevierville Sam and his smaller cousin prepared for the hot and deadly work to come. The thunder of cannon opened the ball, dust and smoke engulfing the enemy works. The Smokey Mountain kin were choosing their targets carefully, wetting the front sites of the long guns and drawing a cool whistle of water. Cold and bright, the winter morning was exploding before their eyes and as the cannon fire ceased, Sevierville Sam and his smaller cousin began their personal, vengeful work of crushing the rebellion. With each held breath, slowly squeezing the trigger, another Confederate soldier met his maker.
It seemed like hours, but the mayhem slowly sputtered out, as the Union forces penetrated the works and pursued the retreating Rebels. Sevierville Sam reached for his water and was amazed that his smaller cousin had rolled over on his side asleep. Big Sam tried to shake him awake, but his kin was beyond slumber and would remain in another deeper sleep forever. The bigger cousin just sat in the dirt staring at his smaller kin, the other boys from the Smokey Mountains ringed the two crumpled in the dust, they helped Big Sam to his feet and carried the lifeless wee one to the shade of a nearby oak.
Sevierville Sam’s Sorrow soon turned to rage, saying, let’s pack up the little cousin, send him home to his ma and give him a bona fide Smokey Mountain Reunion.
Bummer
