James Henry McClimons War Recollections
I went into camp of instruction at Lightwood Knot Springs, near Columbia, South Carolina, and served on the coast of that state until March 1, 1862, at which time the Brigade (Gen. Maxcy Gregg's) was transferred to Virginia and stationed at Fredericksburg, retired to near Richmond May 1, 1862. About that date, Gen. A. P. Hill's "Light Division" was formed and Gregg's Brigade was one of the six that composed it. Early in June 1862, Hill's Division was made a part of Lieut. Gen. T. J. (Stonewall) Jackson's Corps, and met Jackson coming from the valley, camping near Hanover, Virginia, and formed part of the attacking force in the first of the seven days' fight in front of Richmond. Here I received my baptism of bullets and shells. I was in the battles of Sharpsbury, First Fredericksburg, Second Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Wilderness, Ream Station, Bristow Station, Jones Farm, and from August 1, 1864, to April 1, 1865, on the front lines around Richmond and Petersburg, and from the last date to April 9, 1865, on the retreat to Appomattox where we stacked arms with tears in our eyes and sadness in our hearts. With three years spent under the leaders I have named and all under General R. E. Lee, I can truly and truthfully say that I was in the war, not simply in the Confederate Army. Any man who stayed as long as I did, where I was, had to fight. I was near by Gen. Maxcy Gregg when he was killed on December 14, 1862, at Fredericksburg. I saw General Stonewall Jackson carried off the field on a stretcher on the night of May 2, 1863, at Chancellorsville. I have omitted a number of minor engagements in which I participated because they were so numerous they were not named. I was severely wounded on May 5, 1864, at the Wilderness and rejoined my command July 30, 1864. I am not ashamed of the cause for which I fought and shed my blood, nor of the record made. One hundred and twenty-five men were in the Company at the beginning and about 25 were added afterwards, but only 13 of us stacked our guns at Appomattox. By J. H. McClimons