then an
unusual incident occurred.

"Hello, Lieutenant Whites, my old friend, I am glad to see you."

I looked and recognized a Federal Sergeant, whom I had befriended
while en route with him and many other Federal prisoners from East
Tennessee to Richmond. I replied:

"My dear fellow, I know, under the circumstances, you will excuse
me when I tell you that I am truly sorry that I cannot return the
compliment."

I was ordered to the rear under guard of one soldier. I was turned
over to the provost guard. My other sword was demanded. Of course I
gave it up without a word. My emotions were too intense for utterance.
I was a disarmed, helpless prisoner of war. My feelings can better be
described by relating an incident which occurred later on. After Lee's
surrender, a few uncompromising, unconquered Confederates attempted to
make their way to Johnston's Army in North Carolina. The way was full
of obstacles, and one of the party, nearly overcome, sat with his
elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, when a comrade accosted
him with--

"Hello, John, what is the matter with you?"

"O, I was just thinking," replied John.

"Well, what in the world were you thinking so deeply about that you
were lost to every other environment?"

"Well, Jim, to tell you the truth, I was thinking I wished I was a
woman."

"Wish you were a woman! Great Scotts, John, are you gone crazy? A
brave soldier like you wishing to be a woman!"

"Now, Jim, I'll tell you the truth; if I were a woman I could just cry
as much as I pleased, and no one would think that I was a fool."

I felt very much like John. I wished I was a woman, so that I could
cry as much as I pleased.

That night all the prisoners were marched to General Sheridan's
headquarters, where we went into camp without supper. Some said their
prayers, while others cursed the Yankees inaudibly, of course. Next
morning we were lined up and counted. Eleven hundred Confederates
answered at Sheridan's roll call. It looked like Kershaw's whole
Brigade was there, though there were many Georgians among us. Sheridan
then inspected the prisoners, and at his personal instance--shame be
it said to his memory--we were all robbed of our good blankets and
dirty, worn out ones given in their stead.

After the inspection by Sheridan, we began the march (we knew not
where to) under a heavy guard--a whole regiment of infantry to guard
eleven hundred prisoners. This guard was old soldiers, w