Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 11. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for Yank or search for Yank in all documents.

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a heap harder dan picken cotton. During the construction of the dam, daily and almost constant skirmishing was carried on with the enemy, who were around us in strong force, and not only anticipated the capture of Admiral Porter's entire fleet, but made it their boast that the army would be forced to surrender to General Kirby Smith. The dam they looked upon as a huge joke, and the salutation with which Union prisoners, whom the chances of war threw into their hands, were met, was: Well, Yank, how's the dam? Even the rebel prisoners whom we captured during its construction could not avoid chaffing their captors by the question: How's your big dam progressing? The ridicule was not, however, confined to the camp of the enemy or to the rebel citizens of Alexandria. We think we can safely assert that, until the work progressed for a week, not ten per cent. of the officers and seamen of the navy had the slightest faith in our saving their fleet. Indeed, we cannot now remember any o
loody gift, despatched with unerring aim. Or again, one of the rebels calling a parley, would cry out: Yanks, aint it about your time to cook coffee? Yes, replies Yank. Then, rejoins Mr. Rebel, if you won't shoot while I make my johnny-cake, I won't shoot while you make your coffee. Where-upon the culinary truce was observed wi the lull in the battle-storm is perfect. Adventurous spirits on both sides cautiously raise their heads above the .earthworks. How are you, Johnny? How are you Yank? are the questions usually bandied. Won't you shoot? says one. No, says the other. Well, we won't, chime in all; and immediately the parapets are swarmed with her sharply, and never overstepping the half-way line which separates their respective fortifications. Suddenly the cry is raised, Run back, Johnnys, or Run back, Yank, just as it happens to be, we're going to shoot, and the hostilities begin again. It is always understood, however, that the first shot shall be aimed high, and
mbatants are entirely hidden from each other's sight. The last shot is fired, and the lull in the battle-storm is perfect. Adventurous spirits on both sides cautiously raise their heads above the .earthworks. How are you, Johnny? How are you Yank? are the questions usually bandied. Won't you shoot? says one. No, says the other. Well, we won't, chime in all; and immediately the parapets are swarmed with men who have been concealed behind them. Out jump the fellows from the rifle-pits, xchanged. The men have keen pleasure in their singular armistice, bantering each other sharply, and never overstepping the half-way line which separates their respective fortifications. Suddenly the cry is raised, Run back, Johnnys, or Run back, Yank, just as it happens to be, we're going to shoot, and the hostilities begin again. It is always understood, however, that the first shot shall be aimed high, and the veriest pawdler gets back to shelter safely. While this fraternal scene is b