The other day, Capt. "Cannon Fodder" Campbell, Gen. Miller and I were sitting in the Mason Dixon Tavern when they yelled, "Last Call!". Gen. Miller tried to stand up and leaned over on the coat rack. He tried to bid his farewells for the night saying, "See ya'll Bluebellies in battle tomorrow!". During his attempts to leave, Gen. Miller grabbed my Blue jacket and hat and proceeded to leave the establishment. Not realizing he took the wrong colors, he left the bar and mounted his horse in the wrong direction.
The stragglers on the front porch claimed that he yelled to his horse to take him home, "Take me back to camp, Betsy". As he pulled on the horse's tail, Betsy turned and proceeded to trot in the opposite direct....heading straight to the Union camps.
Shortly there after, Gen. Miller stumbled on some Union troops performing some evening drills just outside of camp. In his stoppered state, Gen. Miller tried to give the Yankee boys some directions. "Suh, straighten up them there lines, boys! Have you no pride?" The officer on hand quickly recognized his Southern accent and asked Gen. Miller, "Sir, what is your name and command?" At this point, Gen. Miller began to realize himself of his location and quickly slapped Betsy on the rear and yelled, "Camp, Betsy,
quickly!". The horse took off towards the tavern and the general quickly disappeared from sight.
This morning at reveille, a courier from the Southern camps arrived asking for an officer exchange for prisoner Gen. Miller. We tried to explain the story to him that we don't have Gen. Miller in captivity. My only advice to the courier was to inform their camp that if they see a Union officer riding his horse backwards towards their lines.....Don't Shoot!!!
