Page 9 – Autobiography – Benjamin Lafayette Smith
                  several men were killed. We remained there all night, and the next day started to march
                  West. We soon heard we were going to Tuscumbia Ala., when Sherman, Penn and myself
                  determined to go ahead of the command and try to reach Town Creek near Leighton. By ten
                  o’clock at night we reached his home almost broke down, for we had traveled about 35 miles
                  after 10 A.M. We were cordially received by him and his family and by his brother Curt
                  King and family, as all were living in the same house. We slept like logs, for we were
                  extremely tired, and had not slept in a bed in a house in some months. This was Saturday
                  night. We stayed all day Sunday and Sunday night, and Monday we went by Dr. Ed
                  Delonys and remained a while and went to Tuscumbia and joined our regiment. We
                  remained there about three weeks, and Hoods army started about the 25th November to
                  Tennessee. The night we staid near Spring Hill, we lay all night near the ????way and
                  listened to the passing of the enemy, and made no attempt to attack or check them in any
                  way. Why we never knew. We marched to Franklin reaching there about noon on the 30th
                  November 1864. Hoods army began to form a line of battle in front of the enemys
                  breastworks there and about an hour by sun began one of the severest and most deadly
                  battles of the war. In the charge bearing our regimental flag, I was shot down about 100
                  yards from the enemys breastworks. My thigh was broken half way between the knee and
                  hip joint by a zinc washer ball, which struck a loose knife blade in by right pocket, breaking
                  the blade into a number of pieces. The largest piece found not larger than the fingernail.
                  The wound bled very little, possibly not more than a teaspoon full. I thought when shot
                  about sunset, I would crawl away as soon as it was dark. I made but one effort for I found
                  that I could not move an inch. The ground was damp and cold and I soon began to feel
                  chilly. I had only a thin woolen blanket, that my mother had woven for me, which I
                  managed to get off my shoulder and unfold the best I could, and spread over my shoulders,
                  all the time growing colder and more uncomfortable. In order to try to warm myself a little,
                  I made an effort to kick my well foot against the ground. This pained my wounded leg
                  extremely. I then tried folding my blanket in a thick narrow fold and wound it tightly
                  around my nose and head, and this made my breathing difficult, which kept me from
                  freezing. While lying there in range of a battery, a cannon ball ploughed in the ground close
                  enough to throw a half peck of dirt on me. Another time a shell burst close enough to me,
                  for the concussion to raise my head up off my arm upon which it was resting. After the
                  battle was over, and things began to quite down, I called to the Federals wanting them to
                  come and get me, but they began shooting at me every time I called. Finally Maj Rona of
                  the 15th Miss regiment, hunting for his wounded and dead across me. I took him to be a
                  Federal, and he to test me, humored my idea for a minute, but soon told me who he was. I
                  almost went into ecstasies, and began to plead earnestly and piteously for him to have me
                  carried off the field. He promised me he would, and in about an hour between 3 and 4 A.
                  M. four men came with a litter and put me on it, and fearing being shot at by the enemy,
                  they told me if I screamed they would throw me down. They carried me a short distance to
                  an ambulance driven by Buck Chiles, a member of the 13th Miss regiment, from Starkville.
                  He carried me to Col. John W. McGavocks house, where several Confederate Generals lay
                  dead on his front porch. It was now about four A.M. I was taken in a room laid on the
                  floor in front of the fire place. Mrs McGavock soon brought me some wine which was all
                  the all the attention she had time to pay me until about noon, as her house was full of
                  wounded. I was carried to another room and put on a cot, and laid on my back. I soon
                  began to feel somewhat comfortable lying perfectly still on my back. I did not dare to try to