On January 10, 1864, Frederick Meinhard of the 65^th Illinois Volunteers, wrote from Strawberry Plains, Tennessee, that "We now belong to the reserves and are unfit for service, because of the extreme hardships we have been exposed to and being on half rations and without suitable clothing for this time of year." At times near starvation, the Union troops at Strawberry Plains suffered the rigors of one of the worst winters in many years, with thin blankets, tattered clothing, and soleless shoes, or no shoes at all, and the most primitive kinds of shelter.

After the Union disaster at Chickamauga on September 19 and 20, Burnside remained at Knoxville, which he had taken possession of on September 3; but in November his position became extremely precarious, as James Longstreet’s Corps was dispatched to destroy Burnside’s Army of the Ohio. This was the beginning of nearly three months of suffering and deprivation that few of Burnside’s men had ever faced before or afterwards. The nadir of their suffering occurred at Strawberry Plains during the first week of the new year.

The Union army had already been on half rations, or less, as the result of Longstreet’s "siege" of Knoxville. Many of the men were destitute for lack of adequate clothing. Men were often seen with "stockingless toes protruding through large gaps in their shoes, legs of pants worn off up to their knees, nothing to protect lower limbs except army drawers, and well-worn and perhaps sleeveless blouse." Thus wrote Jacob Cox, Commander of the Third Division of the XXIII Corps.

After the defeat of Longstreet and the subsequent relief of Burnside’s army, a December foray up the Holston River Valley and a skirmish with the Confederates at Bean’s Station, Cox’s Division fell back to Strawberry Plains, arriving on December 28 and going into camp at a location on the opposite side of the river from the village. Cox, now in command of the XXIII Corps, decided to locate their camp around the slopes of a gently rounded hill covered with oak and pine, which soon disappeared to be used for shelter and fuel.

The weather was mild, and the setting caused General Cox to become almost poetic in his description of the scene, "[It] completed a picture that would have made Rembrandt die with envy." Whatever romance there was in the camp life at Strawberry Plains was suddenly and rudely destroyed on New Year’s Eve. December 31 was mild, with a warm rain falling most of the day, accompanied by lightning and thunder in the early evening. The men had just turned in when the wind suddenly shifted to the northwest. Blowing at a gale force, it scattered a shower of sparks from campfires, dropping the temperature so rapidly that canvas was frozen solid in a few minutes. By morning the temperature was zero Fahrenheit. That night was probably the longest night of the war for Cox’s forlorn band of men. There was little sleep for anyone, as they had to stay awake and keep their fires going to keep from freezing. Cox related, "Exposure by day is easy to bear compared with the chill by night, when campfires burn low and men lie shivering, their teeth chattering, while extreme drowsiness makes exertion painful, and there is danger of going off into sleep that knows no waking."

The men suffered even more on New Years’s Day; as the wind continued to blow at a screaming velocity, the temperature dropped even lower, and the ground was frozen and covered with snow. At reveille, the men took only time to answer roll call and then crawled back into their crude lean-to shelters and ragged thin blankets. Later in the day, they huddled about the fires seeking some warmth; but the wind was so strong that those on the windward side felt no heat from the fire, while those on the leeward side were nearly suffocated by the smoke, blinded, burned by the flying embers and ashes. So they rotated from side to side of the fire, undecided as to which side was the least uncomfortable.

That morning General Cox went through each regimental camp trying to encourage and cheer up the men. He wrote:

The patience and courage of the troopers were marvelous, though many of the men were in a pitiable condition as to clothing...some had nothing but drawers on their legs, their trousers being utterly worn to rags. Some had no coats and drew their tattered blankets about them, sitting on their haunches...about the campfires...some of the brigades had been without soap for two months. This made cleanliness impossible, and clustered about the fire...they became so begrimed that a liberal supply of soap would have been necessary to restore their color and show what race they belonged to. Yet, hungry, cold, ragged and dirty, they responded cheerily to my New Year’s greeting...

J. W. Gaskill of the 104^th Ohio, described the scene as follows:

...comrades were seen standing around log fires, turning first one side and then the other...[while] others were sitting, nodding, or napping at small fires fronting their tents. A few are seen winding their way back and forth around the hillside carrying or in search of fuel. My clothing consists of a portion of an army blanket tied about my head and shoulders, a badly wrecked cap, blouse and shirt in fairly good condition, with shoes almost soleless, and without gloves or mittens. A pair of citizen’s tight fitting pants burned to the knees while standing about our log fires and the missing portions supplied with pieces of rubber blankets tied about my legs.

Cox sent a message that day to General Mahlon Manson, commander of the Second Division, XXIII Army Corps, emphasizing the desperate situation of Cox’s men at Strawberry Plains, and declared, "The suffering consequent upon the present severity of the weather touches me to the heart, and I am full of the deepest regret that no clothing can be obtained and that subsistence stores are so scanty." He continued, "Every available wagon on this side of the river is out after corn and grain."

About three o’clock the men cooked and gulped down some tough beef and crawled into their shelters and tried to cover themselves with their ragged blankets. Thus New Year’s Day, 1864, was celebrated by the unfortunate Union troops at Strawberry Plains.

The blizzard ended the next day, ands the weather cleared, but it remained very cold with the temperatures near zero the next several days. Their misery index reached new highs. Gaskill wrote that they had "only an abundance of cold river water, fresh air, misery, pine cones, but no acorns." Colonel Hayes of the 104^th Ohio, reported that there were not a half dozen overcoats in his entire regiment. Rations were reduced to one-half pint of corn meal per day, plus a ration of meat, referred to as "jerk," which the men cooked up in a big kettle without any salt. "Jerk" apparently consisted mostly of bones and not enough fat in six gallons "to make a grease spot." On January 2, the ration for each man consisted of two ounces of corn meal and a small piece of very lean beef. On another day, according to a member of one company, the ration consisted of just one pint of corn meal for his entire company. The men searched for the few kernels of corn left over from the cavalry horses, which was then cracked in their tin cups with the butts of their bayonets and fried in small amounts of grease, if available. Much of their day was spent out foraging, ranging out as far as ten miles, with slight success, as the surrounding area had already been picked clean. One lucky soldier brought back a beef shin bone which he put on the fire and roasted. He then took it, broke it open, and with his finger scooped out the marrow and ate it.

Inadequate food and clothing, poor sanitation, and the severe weather took their toll in sickness and desertions. Scurvy, pneumonia, and diarrhea reached epidemic proportions. Regimental returns for January, 1864, reported eight desertions from the 65^th Illinois. For the Third Division, Cox reported that only 4,886 of the 6,790 men were present and fit for duty. The situation did not improve. When Major General John Schofield arrived to take command of the Army of the Ohio on February 8, he found that the army’s effective strength was reduced from 25,000 to 7,500 men ready and fit for duty. Fortunately, their duties were light, and discipline relaxed during this period. The men spent most of their time huddled about their fires or in their tents, out foraging, or trying to mend or patch their ragged clothing. Cast-off clothing was especially sought after to provide material for patching their clothing.

Finally the weather improved. Frederick Meinhard, of the 65^th Illinois, wrote to his parents some days later that he had received new clothing and that his ration was now a pint of corn meal a day, but, best of all, "the finest weather in the world."

Honors of war are conferred upon those who display gallantry and heroism on the battlefield; but those men at Strawberry Plains displayed an uncommon heroism. They were tested to their limits and beyond; most of them met the challenge as they called upon their inner reserve strength. It was a time of constant discomfort and misery, and the casualties were high---nearly seventy percent; but there were no medals, no monuments, or stirring accounts of their courage. They were like many others, such as Gen. James Longstreet’s Confederates, and the countless Union and Confederate soldiers who almost daily endured the severe hardships of the march or winter campaigning. They are forgotten heroes of the war.