South Mountain towered on our right,
Far off the river lay,
And over on the wooded height
We held their line at bay.

At last the mutt'ring guns were stilled,
The day died slow and wan.
At last their pipes the gunners filled,
The Sergeant's yarns began.

When,--as the wind a moment blew
Aside the fragrant flood
Our brierwoods raised,--within our view
A little maiden stood.

A tiny tot of six or seven;
From fireside fresh she seemed.
Of such a little one in heaven
One soldier often dreamed.)

And as we started, her little hand
Went to her curly head
In grave salute; "And who are you?"
At length the Sergeant said.

"And where's your home?" he growled again.
She lisped out, "Who is me?
"And where's your home?" he growled again.
Why, don't you know? I'm little Jane,
the pride of Battery B.

"My home? Why, that was burned away,
And pa and ma are dead,
And so I ride the guns all day
Along with Sergeant Ned.

"And I've a drum that's not a toy,
A cap with feathers too,
And I march beside the drummer-boy
On Sundays at review.

"But now our bacca's all give out,
The men can't have their smoke,
And so they're cross--why, even Ned
Won't play with me and joke.

"And the big Colonel said to-day--
I hate to hear him swear--
He'd give a leg for a good pipe
Like the Yanks have over there.

"And so I thought, when beat the drum,
And the big guns were still,
I'd creep beneath the tent and come
Out here across the hill.

"And beg, good Mister Yankee men,
You'd give me some Lone Jack.
Please do--when we get some again
I'll surely bring it back.

"Indeed I will, for Ned, says he,
If I do what I say
I'll be a general yet, maybe,
And ride a prancing bay."

We brimmed her tiny apron o'er;
You should of heard her laugh
As each man from his scanty store
Shook out a generous half.

To kiss that little mouth stooped down
A score of grimy men,
Until the Sergeant's husky voice
Said "'Tention, squad!"--and then

We gave her escort, till good-night
The pretty waif we bid,
And watched her toddle out of sight--
Or else 'twas tears that hid

Her tiny form--nor turned about
A man, nor spoke a word,
Till after while a far, hoarse shout
Upon the wind we heard.

We sent it back, then cast sad eye
Upon the scene around.
A baby's hand had touched the tie
That brothers once had bound.

That's all--save when the dawn awoke
Again the work of hell,
And through the sullen clouds of smoke
The screaming missles fell,

Our Gen'ral often rubbed his glass,
And marvelled much to see
Not a single shell that whole day fell

In the camp of Battery B.

Battery B is a light artillery group, when one belongs they tend to fall in love with it, or should I say the cannon.

Hurrah for the Light Artillery!

- Author Unknown -

This is a tribute to the men who manned the light artillery batteries

On the unstained sward of the gentle slope,
Full of valor and nerved by hope,
The infantry sways like a coming sea;
Why lingers the light artillery?
“Action front!”

.

Whirling the Parrotts like children's toys,
The horses strain to the rushing noise;
To right and to left, so fast and free,
They carry the light artillery.
“Drive on!”

.

The gunner cries with a tug and a jerk,
The limbers fly, and we bend to our work;
The handspike in, and the implements out -
We wait for the word, and it comes with a shout -
“Load!”

.
The foes pour on their billowy line;
Can nothing check their bold design?
With yells and oaths of fiendish glee,
They rush for the light artillery.
“Commence firing!”

.
Hurrah! Hurrah! our bulldogs bark,
And the enemy's line is a glorious mark;
Hundreds fall like grain on the lea,
Mowed down by the light artillery.
“Fire!”

.

“Fire!” and “Load!” are the only cries
Thundered and rolled to the vaulted skies;
Aha! they falter, they halt, they flee
From the hail of the light artillery.
“Cease firing!”

.

The battle is over, the victory won
Ere the dew is dried by the rising sun;
While the shout bursts out, like a full-voiced sea,
“Hurrah for the light artillery!
Hurrah for the light artillery!”

Union Soldier Life

The Iron Brigade of the West was composed of

2d Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry

6th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry

7th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry

19th Indiana Volunteer Infantry

24th Michigan Volunteer Infantry

and of course, Battery B, 4th U.S. Artillery

Origin of the Title "Iron Brigade"