Never Call Retreat

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Authors: Bruce Catton
Tags: Military, Non-Fiction
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either for warmth or for cooking, their blankets as wet as their clothing. 7
    By December 30 the two armies were groping into close contact a few miles west and northwest of Murfreesboro, the Federals astride the turnpike that ran back to Nashville. The ground was rocky, broken by small hillocks and ridges, with scrub timber separating the brown fields; at irregular intervals there were dense thickets of cedar, wet and black under the gray sky. Across this landscape innumerable parties of skirmishers were prowling. They collided, fired at each other —often enough without doing any damage—and by these small, haphazard encounters, repeated over and over again, the two armies clumsily collected the bits of information that told each one where its enemy was. Slowly, brigade by brigade, the Federal army began to form an irregular line of battle, between three and four miles from flank to flank, facing generally toward the east. Just out of range and mostly out of sight in the woods, Bragg's army, was similarly drawn into position facing toward the west. One of Bragg's divisions lay north of the Nashville turnpike; all the rest were to the south, with the lazy meandering loops of Stone's River to the rear, between the army and its base, Murfreesboro. There were several bridges over the river, and it had numerous fords, and ordinarily it was no great barrier; with all the rain that had been coming down lately, however, it was due to rise, and if Bragg's army had to retreat in a hurry the river might be a problem.
    Bragg had no intention of retreating. The strange irresolution that sometimes came over him in a time of crisis was not in evidence now; even though the Federals were on the offensive, obviously preparing to make an assault, Bragg intended to strike first, gambling that he could catch his foe off balance, throwing his full weight into one smashing blow, North of the turnpike and east of the river he had one division, more than 7000 men under Major General John C. Breckinridge, who had once been a Vice-President of the United States. These men would hold their ground, guarding the immediate approach to Murfreesboro and serving as the army's general reserve. With everybody else—close to 30,000 infantry and artillery, led by the two corps commanders, William J. Hardee and Leonidas Polk—Bragg would attack the Federal right, south of the turnpike and west of the river. He devised this plan on December 30, while the cold rain continued to beat down on the waiting armies, and ordered the assault to take place as soon as daylight came on December 31.
    By strange coincidence Rosecrans had made a plan which was almost an exact duplicate of this; he too would defend with his right and attack with his left. McCook's corps had taken position opposite Hardee and Polk, the right end of his line drawn back slightly, and McCook's assignment was simply to hold his ground. Thomas was in the center and Crittenden was on the left, and they would smash at the Confederate right, Crittenden going beyond Stone's River to get at Breckinridge. This attack, like Bragg's, was to be launched at daybreak.
    The last day of 1862 came in cold and windy after a wet night. The sky was beginning to clear, although a mist was drifting up from the river valley, and Rosecrans, Crittenden and their staff officers stood chatting behind the Federal left. Out of sight in the surrounding woods, Federal soldiers were working with damp bits of wood to make smoky little fires to boil coffee. As soon as they finished breakfast the battle would begin; some of Crittenden's men were already starting to ford the river. Then, far to the southward, there was a rolling, crackling noise, snapping and sputtering and sounding (as one of the headquarters men remembered it) for all the world like a cane brake on fire. It grew louder, spreading to right and left across sodden fields and woods that the commanding general could not see, and it was punctuated by salvos of

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