The following is an anecdotal study taken from the Pennsylvania regimental History of the 140th PVI; We thought this appropriate to post, especially since it was written by Medal of Honor recipient J. J. Purman. The military history of this regiment can be found at several points of reference throughout the internet, literature and the US military records, including the Newly republished History or the One-Hundred Fortieth Pennsylvania Volunteers. In studying the 'action' one will find that this regiment was never routed from the field, even after enduring staggering losses, and served as skirmishers longer than nearly any regiment in the Army of the Potomac. By James J. Purman, A.M., M.D., Formerly First Lieutenant of Company. The campaign of General McClellan on the peninsula had proved a failure after so much expenditure of time and means in equipping it, and Washington City was menaced by armed rebels under Lee and Jackson. The President’s proclamation went forth for “three hundred thousand more.” The country responded to the call. Men who had before stayed at home thinking their services were not needed, now sprang to arms, and quickly enrolled themselves in the various companies forming all over the country. John F. McCullough, of Jefferson, Pa., who had seen some service in the First Pennsylvania Cavalry, David Taylor, of Waynesburg, Pa., and the writer of this sketch, who was then teaching an academy at Jacksonville, Pa., abandoning all business, enrolled their own names and called upon others to do likewise, to form a company “for three years or during the war.” We met in the old “Hamilton House,” then the principal hotel of Waynesburg, and at that meeting it was agreed that we should join in raising a cavalry company, our preference being that arm of the service, and as soon as we had the requisite number of men, to unite our squads, elect officers, and offer our services to the government. This meeting occurred about August 10, 1862. We immediately had posters printed, signed by each of us stating our objects, and each taking a package, McCullough recruited in and about Jefferson, Taylor about Waynesburg, and myself in the townships of Richhill, Center and Alippo (sic), they being contiguous to my academy. I recollect distinctly that the first man who enrolled his name under mine was James M. Pipes, and the second one was John A. Burns. I rode over the western end of my county recruiting, and Burns attended me and was a great assistance in this work. In two weeks our company was over full as enlistments went on quite lively. On the morning of August 28th, my squad rendezvoused at Jacksonville, and bidding friends good-bye, we took wagons and arrived at Waynesburg in the afternoon. Washington Pipes, having two sons among my recruits, went with us, and stood up in one of the wagons and carried “Old Glory.” On the way the boys sang, “We’ll hang Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree.” At Waynesburg we met McCullough, who had brought with him about 45 men, and Taylor with about 25 men, while I had 33 men. The name of our organization was chosen after considerable discussion, that which was first proposed being the “Downey Invincibles,” in honor of Robinson W. Downey, deceased, a prominent and liberal spirited lawyer of Waynesburg, who proposed to make the company his protégé by purchasing its uniform and otherwise caring for it. About this time we erroneously learned that no more cavalry regiments would be received by the government, and as we would, of course, go as infantry, we settled upon the name of the “Greene County Rifles.” As none of us who had recruited for the company knew anything about infantry drill, we called upon James B. Lazear, Esq., now vice-president of the Central Bank of Denver, Col., who had received a military education at West Point, who drilled our men in the step, facings, and company formation. In the afternoon we marched to the North Commons, south of the old College Building, and there an election with written ballots was held for company officers. My brother, Col. D. Gray Purman, who had been wounded at Shiloh, Tenn., was home on furlough on crutches, used his hat for a ballot-box. The almost unanimous result of the election was McCullough for Captain; Taylor, Second Lieutenant, and myself First Lieutenant. The next morning we assembled in front of the Court House and received many heartfelt good-byes and God bless you, as well as many substantial tokens of good will in the way of things for our comfort in camp. Rev. William Campbell, now deceased, of the C. P. Church, made the parting address to us, which was responded to by Captain McCullough. To the tune of the “Girl I Left Behind Me,” played by J. W. Little, who was then only 17 years old, now Dr. Little, of Washington, D. C., we marched out of the east end of town and took wagons in Hookstown for Rice’s Landing on the Monongahela River. When the river was reached, I aced as Orderly Sergeant and called the roll on the river bank and addresses were delivered from the hurricane deck of the steamer Elector, by Judge James Lindsay and Colonel D. Gray Purman. We all got aboard the steamer, but the river was low, and more than once we ran aground on sand bars. On one occasion we all waded through the shallow water ashore, and walked for miles until the worst bars were passed. Arrived at Pittsburgh, we marched into Camp Howe. Here we met companies from Washington, Beaver and Mercer countries, and were mustered into the service of the United States. A flag presentation occurred to Captain Greggs’ Company from Monongahela City, at which a portion of the Greene Country (sic) Company attended, and Hon. George V. Lawrence and Hon. A. A. Purman made speeches. The latter, among other things, said, “that he had two brothers going out to defend the flag, and he would rather see them brought home feet foremost, than that either of them should show the white feather.” In a few days we moved on to Harrisburg and marched into hot, dusty, dirty Camp Curtin, and here we learned that we were to be united with the Washington, Beaver and Mercer County Companies, into a Regiment of Western Pennsylvanians, to be known as the One Hundred and Fortieth Pennsylvania Volunteers. Richard P. Roberts, of Beaver, was chosen Colonel; Prof. John Fraser, of Canonsburg, Lieutenant-Colonel, and Thomas P. Rodgers, of Mercer, Major. Here we received our arms, uniforms and accoutrements, being armed with the Vincennes rifled musket, a heavy, cumbersome gun with a sabre (sic) bayonet, which we gladly exchanged for the Springfield rifle when we reached the front. Some quite laughable scenes occurred when the uniforms were issued by the quartermaster. A six-foot man would get trousers and shoes intended for a man measuring five feet, six inches, and vice versa; the little fellow would get number ten shoes and trousers a half a foot too long. But by a system of exchanges all got reasonably well suited and clothed. We understood that our first duty was to help guard the Northern Central Railroad, the then great single artery through which flowed the patriotic life-blood of the nation in the shape of men and munitions of war from the North to Washington City. It was soon ascertained that our destination was Parkston Station, where we arrived September 10, 1862, and debarked into a clover field. The headquarters and several of the companies established themselves in tents on a hill overlooking the railroad giving to their location the name of “Camp Seward,” while the balance of the Regiment were stationed along the road at different points for a distance of ten miles, reaching from a line separating Pennsylvania from Maryland to Monkton Station. The barracks at Parkton, which had been occupied by a company from the Eastern Shore of Maryland was assigned to us, and the Marylanders were sent on to take part in the work of driving Lee across the Potomac. At a meeting of the captains of the several companies, the letters from “A” to “K” were placed in a hat and each captain drew his letter. Captain McCullough drew “A,” so we became “Company A” and the right of the Regiment. Now our duties began, which consisted in drilling four hours each day and guarding the railroad. Gunpowder Creek, or river, is very winding in its course, and as a Northern Central road follows its valley in the main, a great number of bridges were required. These the rebels were constantly burning, or tearing up, so that a strong guard was necessary along the whole road at the rate of a thousand men to every ten miles. At the time we arrived a bushwhacker by the name of Merriman had been burning several bridges, and the evidence of his work was still apparent in the charred timbers which had recently been burned. The companies located along the road, being so widely separated, while they were under the general command of the Colonel at Camp Seward, yet in matters pertaining to the guarding of the road and daily drill, acted largely as independent companies, meeting frequently at the camp for instruction and dress parade. Being only about sixty miles from the battlefields of South Mountain and Antietam, and these being on such high locations, when the wind blew in our direction, we could hear the heavy guns quite distinctly. These were the first guns which we ever heard in battle. As the telegraph lines were unobstructed we got news on the 14th and 17th of September that McClellan had won two complete victories over Lee. This caused great rejoicing in our camp, and while a little more than the truth, it meant that the rebels would be driven off Northern soil and across the Potomac. General Miles had surrendered Harper’s Ferry to the enemy, and was killed by shell just as the act was being consummated. His residence was but a short distance from Parkton, and his body was brought home for burial. Permission was given to all not on duty who desired to attend his funeral, but the belief was that the surrender was a cowardly act, and the funeral was but slimly attended by Company A. Patriotism ran high then, and such was the feeling at that time. Prisoners to the number of several carloads, who had been taken at Miles’ surrender and were paroled came over the Northern Central road on their way home to New York a few days after. Near Parkton a collision occurred and several were hurt, and one man was killed by a splinter from the car piercing his head. While the wreckage was being cleared away a rude coffin was mad and the dead soldier was taken on with his comrades. His Captain, while washing the blood from the soldier’s face and preparing his body for his coffin, would alternately weep and swear, meanwhile saying that he was one of the best soldiers he ever knew. The Northern Central being a single track road and poorly built, and as the trains run on it very recklessly, a great number of accidents, similar to the one just referred to, occurred. It was no uncommon thing for the guard which had been standing during the “fourth relief” to come with the report in the morning, “Well, two trains up the road tried to pass each other on a single track this morning, and as usual failed.” The many collisions and other accidents which occurred on this road during the three months that we guarded it, would in this day of double tracks and more careful running, be regarded as a fearful record. We had not been but a few days on the road, until we were called upon to try our metal as guards. Our custom was to place a corporal and three or more men at each bridge we were guarding. One very dark night the corporal at the bridge about one mile south of our barracks came breathlessly rushing in saying that he believed a party of men were going to set fire to the bridge. He saw them in the woods with \torches and acting very suspiciously. The Captain immediately ordered the First Lieutenant to take a Sergeant and twenty men, and double quick down to that bridge, and disperse those bridge burners. Guns were loaded and the officer buckled on his revolver, and we were at that bridge in a few minutes. Sure enough there was a party in the woods near the bridge with torches, who were hailed in a very peremptory manner, as to their business with torches at that time of night. After careful examination they were able to give a satisfactory account of themselves. They were good and loyal citizens out on a fox hunt! This was our first meeting with the supposed enemy, and “the boys” were somewhat excited. Our guns were loaded in our barracks at each one’s bunk. The next morning there was found and picked up at the Sergeant’s bunk, a ball separated from the cartridge. The Sergeant in his excitement had rammed down his empty cartridge and dropped his ball! The Sergeant was teased not a little about this affair. He proved to be number one soldier and has now gone to join the great majority. We remained guarding the Northern Central Railroad exactly three months, from September 10 to December 10, 1862, and while here we could do a number of things which were not at all feasible after we got to “the front.” Among other things we organized a “Soldiers’ Posthumous transportation Society,” the design of which was to transport to their homes, the bodies of all comrades who should die from any cause. Our society transported to their homes the bodies of John L. Lundy, Charles A. Freelenad and Samuel Rridgeway, who died during the three months we were on the road. So far as I know, our Company was the only one who organized such a society, and sent home their dead comrades. After we had been guarding the road for about a month, one day Captain McCullough and myself thought we would like to see what the boys of Company A could do at marching. The matter was mentioned to the Company and all were eager to give their powers a trial. So taking all those who were not on duty, counting about 50 men, they were ordered on a certain morning to be armed and equipped for marching except knapsacks, with one day’s cooked rations. The First Lieutenant was ordered to take command of the Company and at 7 o’clock we started on our first march for Newmarket, situated at the line between Pennsylvania and Maryland. The command was given, “Arms at will – route step, march,” and the boys in very cheerful mood started off with a springing step. The distance to the village is about ten miles from Parkton, and we arrived there in good order about ten o’clock. Our entrance into the town was quite a surprise to the villagers, as they had no idea that an armed force of Union men was near them. We marched to the center of the town and stacked arms, and the principal men of the place came to inquire the cause of our visit. We speedily explained that we had no hostile intentions whatever, but were merely testing the marching qualities of the company and had chosen their town as our objective point. Whereupon they welcomed us to the hospitalities of the town, but we informed them that we were fully provided with food for our trip, having one day’s cooked rations in our haversacks. They, however, brought out a bushel of fine apples, and the hotel keeper asked the Lieutenant whether he would allow his men to have some good whisky. This being agreed to, he passed along the men in line with a bucket and a tin cup in it, each man helping himself, there being a careful supervision that no got too much. The Lieutenant was invited into the parlor of one of the best houses and entertained by a good-looking young lady with cake, wine and music. Rations being eaten, we amused the citizens with some fancy company movements, and giving three cheers for the Union people of the town, and three groans for the “secesh,” we started on our return march to Parkton Station, where we arrived long before sundown, somewhat fatigued being altogether unused to marching, but upon the whole, pleased with our abilities to cover twenty miles so easily and well. An open railroad bridge spanned the Gunpowder Creek only a few yards from our barracks. It was customary for the trains while taking in wood and water, to rest upon this bridge. Many of these trains consisted in part of open cars loaded with firkins of butter and cheese. Our company, while being made up of country boys, soon learned the little tricks of soldiers. One or two of them would go awkwardly clambering over a car laden with butter or cheese, while several would be posted under the bridge. Accidently (sic) (?) of course, the one clambering over the car would kickoff a firkin of butter or a cheese. This would drop down through the bridge and be caught by those below. If any of the employees of the road discovered them, the cheese would be put again in its proper place on the car, with some such remark, “Bob, you awkward fellow, you knocked a cheese off that car, and if I hadn’t been looking it would have gone into the creek.” But if unobserved, that cheese or butter quickly took legs and soon was inside “the tigers’ den,” the name given by a number of our company to a little bungalow which they had constructed for themselves outside of the barracks. Not very long afterward one of their number would appear with a nice slice of cheese or butter, “with the compliments of the tigers’ den, for the Captain’s mess.” Upon inquiring where it came from, putting on the most innocent air in the world, the bearer would reply, “You know how rough this road is. Well, in going across the bridge this cheese fell off and one of us boys caught it to save it from going into the creek.” With this very plausible (?) explanation, the slice of butter or cheese was fully enjoyed in the Captains mess. CONCLUSION The roll of the drum, the blare of the bugle, and the clangor of arms no longer echo on the banks of the Potomac, or among the hills of Pennsylvania. The “pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war” live but in memory. The mighty struggle to save the country’s life, costing half a million loyal lives and three billions of treasure is over, and we live to enjoy the rich boon of liberty and union, peace and prosperity purchased by the blood of our fallen comrades, who now “Sleep the sleep that knows no waking, Sleeping for the flag they bore.” And tho’ no epaulets they wore, Nor star, nor bar, nor golden lace, Yet they who once the musket bore Shall in our hearts e’er find a place; And tho’ their bones in unknown graves Or ‘neath Southern soil may lie, The memory of our fallen braves, Can in this Nation never die. As long as Round Top Mountain stands, As long as the Potomac flows, Or oceans plash their pebbley strands, Or sun upon his journey goes; So long the patriot’s name shall shine, Upon fame’s scroll of honored dead, And wreaths of glory ever twine, In fadeless chaplets round his head.

What's that Red Clover for? As the Union army increased in size it was broken up into several Corps. Each Corps was made up of 3-4 Divisions..., Each Division, 3-4 Brigades... Each Brigade was made up of 3-4 Regiments... Each Regiment was made up of 10 Companies of 100 men. For speedy recognition of where soldiers belonged; each Corp was given a symbol that ranged from a diamond, maltese cross, a trefoil (clover), circles, half moon, and the list goes on. Then each Division was given a designated color, Red 1st division, White 2nd, Blue 3rd. So the Red Clover (Trefoil) indicates the 2nd Corp. 1st Division Who was commanded by .....   Maj General Winfield S. Hancock Commander of the 2nd. Corps. Wounded at Gettysburg               Brig. General S. K. Zook Killed at Gettysburg July 2nd. 1863               Colonel Richard P. Roberts First Commander of the 140th Killed at Gettysburg July 2nd. 1863               Lt. Col. (Later to be Brev. Brig. Gen) John Fraser                   Regimental Surgeon Dr. J. Wilson Wishart