Published: May 29, 2006 11:32 pm      

The forgotten soldier

This is a story about a forgotten soldier, one of many who died for our country. This story is about my great-great-grandfather, who fought in the Civil War and is buried far away from where he was born and raised.

He left his home, his family and his life, as he then knew and loved it, to answer a call for something he believed in. After visiting his grave six years ago, I now think about him all the time. Also, I think about how sad it is that there are so many soldiers buried far from their families and barely, if ever, thought about.

Memorial Day should be about honoring those whom we remember, but also about those whom we never even think or know about.

Moses Wisel was born and raised in Conemaugh Township, Cambria County.

On Oct. 3, 1862, he volunteered to serve in the Union Army.

He was mustered into service on

Oct. 29, 1862, in Harrisburg.

He left a wife and three small children who never saw him again.

He served in the cavalry under the command of Capt. Henry J. Blough and, in July 1863, fought in the Battle of Gettysburg, where he was wounded.

He then went on to fight in the Battle

of the Wilderness at Mine Run, Va., where he was wounded again and was taken prisoner at Brandy Station on

May 5, 1864.

He was transported by train to Andersonville Prison in Macon County, Ga. He was taken in a railroad car similar to a cattle car, which was extremely overcrowded. The prisoners had no food or water on their trip. This was in July, when the weather was probably unbearably hot.

Stories about the prison are horrifying.

Upon arrival, the prisoners were walked to a large stockade where the conditions were deplorable.

Here, Wisel endured unthinkable hardships.

The stockade was exposed to the elements. The walls were 12 feet high and there were no roofs and no protection from the weather. The prisoners had to survive with whatever possessions they had at the time of their capture. They lived in the filthiest conditions one could imagine.

A tiny stream ran through the camp after it had passed through the officers’ camp, which was up a hill above them.

The stream was filled with human waste and was barely running by the time it reached the prisoners. This filthy muck was their only water supply for drinking, bathing and disposing of their own waste.

They were starving. They were given the most meager rations to prepare however they could. The food they were given was rotten and filthy with bugs and disease. Many days, they went with nothing.

The stockade was built to hold 6,000 to 10,000 prisoners. In June 1864, there were 45,000 prisoners there.

It is no wonder prisoners were dying daily from diseases and starvation. The mortality rate was extremely high

– 13,000 prisoners died at this camp.

Wisel was taken to the prison hospital on July 23, 1864, and died five days later.

The cause of death was listed as diphtheria.

He is buried in Section F, Grave

No. 4181, in the Andersonville National Cemetery in Georgia. No. 4181 was his “dead book number.” The book was kept by a volunteer at the camp, and each soldier’s death was given a sequential number and recorded in the book.

Visiting this prison was an experience I will always remember. Just being there, witnessing the sites and hearing the story of what the prisoners went through, was so sad and moving that it is almost indescribable.

Seeing my great-great-grandfather’s grave and the graves of so many other soldiers who probably suffered as he did, and are all but forgotten, is something that I will never forget as long as I live.

A wonderful visitors center and museum was built at Andersonville in honor of veterans of all wars.

My father, George Patterson, served in World War II.

The visitors center is a very moving place to visit. There was barely a dry eye in the place.

This is where I found two moving poems written by two prisoners at Andersonville prison. They remind me of all the suffering these soldiers went through while they were far away from their homes and loved ones.

They also remind me of how many forgotten soldiers are out there, from all the wars, buried too far from their homes and families and familiar places, so that they won’t be visited and paid tribute on this very special day.

There is no one to dust off their grave markers, place a wreath or flowers on their grave or stand beside their grave and honor them, tell them thank you and that we love them.

This is what Memorial Day means to me – honoring all the soldiers of all the wars, but especially honoring those very brave soldiers who died so far away and never came home.



Bonnie Glass was born and raised in South Fork, the daughter of George and Genevieve (Bunton) Patterson. In 1957, she married David Glass, formerly of Mineral Point. She now lives in Magalia, Calif.