Harvard memorial biographies ...

yohn Henry Tucker.

355

the ravines to the right and left. And now the enemy had it all
their own way; safe behind their works, they took deliberate aim at
every man in that exposed position who showed signs of life."
Company F was in the direct line of fire, down the road
from the works, and it seemed a miracle that but few were
wounded. Tucker was the first on the list. He was struck
by a ball in the left shoulder; and, after being helped into a
ravine a few rods to the rear, remained there for two hours before it was possible to get a stretcher so far to the front to
convey him to the field hospital. His nearest comrades
meanwhile endeavored to make his last hours as easy as possible. Upon the surgeon's examination it was found that the
ball had glanced inward from the shoulder-blade to the lungs,
and no care could save or help him. He died in an hour
after he was brought in; dying as quietly as if falling asleep.
In answer to a comrade he said that his hurt was very painful; yet from beginning to end there was not a groan, not a
murmur.
A peculiar coincidence of dates should be here mentioned.
On the 3d of March previous, the company to which he belonged wished to send a letter of condolence to the family of
their former First Sergeant, afterwards Sergeant-Major, then
just deceased. Tucker was on the committee, and not knowing that another member was then writing the letter, wrote
a hurried draft for one in his diary, taking the precaution to
write on pages several months ahead. After his death, his
friends were astonished, when reading his daily notes, written
up to the night before the battle, to find upor turning the leaf
that his own hand had unintentionally inserted an obituary
most appropriate for himself, under the date of May 27, speaking in warm praise of " his worth as a friend, his excellence as a
soldier," and expressing "the hope that his example of cheerful
endurance of the discomforts of a soldier's life and faithful
performance of a soldier's duty may not be lost upon us."
The following extract from a letter written by a comrade to
the Cambridge Chronicle, met a heartfelt response from all
who knew him, either in the regiment or at home.
" Our first attack upon Port Hudson cost us the life of one well