Based on the information provided, in 1860 Andrew J Godwin lived near his father Wells Godwin and other family members in Butler County AL, post office South Butler. Wells Godwin is reported in household 1223; A J Godwin is in household 1224.

On May 8, 1862, Greenville AL, A J Godwin enrolled in Capt West's Partisan Ranger Company, age 26. This company was eventually assigned to the 15th Alabama Partisan Ranger Battalion as Co. E. In the summer of 1863 it became Co E, 56th Alabama Regiment. Godwin is reported on the roll for February 1863 as a deserter. His name appears on a post-war company roll composed by a veteran of Capt West's command.

On Jan 1, 1864, Columbus GA, A J Godwin enrolled in Capt Thomas J Key's Co. H, 28th Georgia Seige Artillery Battalion. Also known as Bonaud's Battalion, this command served under General Finnegan's command in the Battle of Olustee. His brigade was ordered to Virginia in May 1864. The roll for this company shows him as absent without leave after July 14, 1864.

Rolls for the 1st Alabama Cavalry include A J Goodwin, Co D, captured in Franklin County AL, Jan 1, 1865. These records show that he was imprisoned at Camp Chase OH until released on oath of allegiance to the United States, June 13, 1865. That service record includes a physical description, his residence shown as Russell County AL. Since Russell County was Godwin's place of birth, that may have been his intended response. Note that Confederate miscellaneous records include a receipt for $2.00 at Camp Chase OH in his name. It is dated May 18, 1865

Godwin's oath of allegiance shows his place of capture as Itawamba County MS. Evidently Hood's wagon train was strung out for some distance on the Alabama-Mississippi state line.

Benjamin D. Godwin served in Co I, 34th Alabama Regiment. Copies of service records mentioned may be ordered through the message board service advertised at the top of this page.

Here's the account from Confederate Veteran Magazine. I cannot identify Capts Foster and Fountain. The destruction described below was done by Col William J Palmer, 15th Pennsyvania Cavalry. His description appears in the Official Records --

As I have never seen an account of the capture of Hood's supply and pontoon train, I shall give it as I saw it occur, having been captured with it. It was in the month of December, 1864, somewhere near the 26th, I think, after our great disaster at Nashville, Tenn. I was then doing service under General Hood's command and was at that time detailed on duty with his supply and pontoon trains. We were stationed at Franklin, Tenn., to await orders. The weather was exceedingly cold, and on that night it was very cloudy, dark, and gloomy when we received orders to retreat. Then the great struggle began with us trying to get out of the way of the oncoming enemy and save ourselves and supplies from capture.

We filed into line, and the hard march was on us. Back we went to Columbia, thence to Pulaski, and on to the Tennessee River. There two days and two nights were taken up in the work of getting our artillery and supply trains across the river. It had snowed heavily and was then sleeting and freezing on everything, and the work of unloading the pontoon equipage, putting the bridge in, getting all crossed over, then taking it up and reloading it onto the wagons again was a most terrible thing for men to have to do in such great haste. But we passed over and moved on in the midst of snow, sleet, mud, ice, slush, and confusion, tired, hungry, sleepy, and half frozen. We entered Tuscumbia, Ala., only to shove on through the town, and continued our forced march to Cherokee Station, where he had hope of some rest and refreshment. We reached that point, a halt was called, and we went into cam for the night, as we thought.

We got our suppers, scraped the snow and sleet away, and lay down on our pallets for sleep and rest, but there was none for us there that night. I had not more than gotten warmed and to sleep in my blankets when I was awakened by Capt T. W. Foster, quartermaster of our general supply train, who handed me an order to report at once to the quartermaster general's headquarters at the station. I got out of my bed and reported to him. He told me that Captain Fountain, who had charge of the pontoon trains, was very dangerously sick and gave me orders to take eighteen boats, planking, and stringers and proceed at once to throw a bridge across Big Bear Creek, out eleven miles west of the station. As soon as it could be done I got everything out and went at once to obey the order. It was horrible work. The weather was so very cold that everything was freezing into ice; but I got to the creek, put in the bridge, and the army passed over that night. The quartermaster crossed over early the next morning and gave me orders to take up the bridge and follow the army as soon as the stragglers or the most of them had gotten across.

We were there all that day, and near sundown I received orders countermanding the first order given me by the quartermaster that morning and ordering me to report back to Captain Foster at Cherokee Station. It was eleven miles back to the station, and we all became disheartened at the maneuvers and the seemingly unnecessary hardships we had been put through all the night before and that day; but we were well-drilled, good, and faithful soldiers and felt that it would be best for us to obey orders promptly. So up we took the bridge, reloaded it, and on we went back to the station. We arrived there safely, but, to our utter surprise, we found no Captain Foster. He was gone, and we were there without further orders, and being most painfully near the sharp and continuous sound of guns firing just a little way off from the station in the direction of Tuscumbia, I decided that we would follow up Captain Foster for orders; so we started out to find him. We met a captain of Forrest's command, and I got some advice from him. And just at night again, twenty-four hours behind Captain Foster, I had some plunder unloaded and gave orders that the teams be pressed to a long trot on all good roads. And here the hardest strain of all set in on us. We did not know just where our captain was with his orders; but on we went all that night, not knowing but that at any moment the Yankees would meet us in the road. However, we pressed on, and just at daylight the next morning I called a halt. We fed our mules as they stood hitched to the wagons, and we also ate a few bites, then on we went in the hope of overtaking Captain Foster.

I was a young man then, and it was on this march that I began to turn gray. I hope I may never again have just such another ordeal as on this particular day's march which I was to pass through. After eating our breakfast that morning we pressed on as fast as we could well go, and soon the bushwhackers began to get in their nefarious work. During the day we lost by them twelve mules and one man shot to death and had three wagons burned up and two other men wounded. But as all things have an end, so did this day. We traveled about fifty-six miles in twenty-four hours on this march. At a bridge on Big Bear Creek, the same creek that I had pontooned for Hood two nights and a day before, we met a courier, and I got a hearing from Captain Foster. It was an order to burn that bridge behind me. I turned back and began to set the bridge on fire, when a company of cavalry came up, and the captain ordered me not to burn it. I told him my orders were from Captain Foster and that I would surely burn the bridge, and I did. When the captain told me that he was of Roddy's command I lost all hope, for before this I had felt sure that General Forrest and his men were between us and the enemy; but when I learned that Roddy and his men were all our dependence for defense, my spirit failed me, and I could not help feeling that we were as good as lost. From this point I looked for and expected the Yankees to come and take us at any moment.

After burning the bridge behind us we marched on, still in the hope of overtaking Captain Foster soon, and in two hours we came upon our train in camp. I reported to Captain Foster. Night was then on us again; the snow, sleet, and ice were all over everything upon the earth; the heavens were close, heavy, and dark; the wind was from the north, and the air was bitter cold. We had then been five days and four nights on a continuous forced march without rest or much food. We were simply worn out. Captain Foster gave orders for us to go into camp for the night, so we pulled in on a ravine, the pontoon train being placed on one side of the ravine and the supply train on the other; our camp was in between the train camps.

After everything was in position for the night, I hunted up my mess, got me some pork and bread, of which we had a plentiful supply at that time, placed myself in my blankets down by a good, warm, generous camp fire, and filled myself as full as I could well hold of broiled pork and bread. Pretty soon all the camp was fast asleep, we hoped, for the rest of the night; but our hopes were in vain, for soon the enemy was upon us. He came and found us all wrapped in our blankets heavy in sleep, the first we had had in five days and nights, upon the cold ground of the camp on a dark and dreary night, the end of human endurance in a long and hurried flight. Here in this helpless state of sleep the Yankees took us all prisoners. When I awoke it was to the jabs of a Yankee bayonet piercing through my blankets into my worn-out and sleeping body, and the first thing I heard was the satanic command of that infernal Yankee soldier to "Come out of them blankets!" Of course there was nothing for me to do but to get on my feet as quickly as possible. I got out of my blankets, only to find myself and all my camp helpless prisoners in the hands of a merciless, mad, pursuing enemy. In a few more moments all the men of our camp had been bayoneted up even as I had been, It was such destruction as only the soldiers of war can have the heart to do in the face of an enemy. The Yankee soldiers took our pontoon and supply trains, threw them together, and set them all on fire. In a little while they were all gone up in smoke, nothing remaining but smoldering ashes on the camp ground. Next these ashes were mixed with blood, ice, and mud, for all of our fine mules but forty or fifty were butchered on the spot.

Some of our company were out in the general camp and escaped, but we who were with the pontoon and supply trains were secured as prisoners, mounted on the mules that were not killed, and rushed into the lines of the enemy and on to Northern prisons. Then we began to suffer, such suffering as our past experiences were nothing with which to compare it.

Here's Col Palmer's report from the Official Records, series I, Vol. XLV, pp 642-44:

Being now within half a days march of Bainbridge, where I knew the whole of Forrest’s cavalry had but just crossed the river, it was necessary to advance with more caution. We reached Leighton, however, thirteen miles west of Courtland, by 1 p. m. of the next day, Friday, December 30, having skirmished nearly all the way with flying parties of Roddey’s cavalry, who attempted to delay ns by burning a bridge over Town Creek, on the Bainbridge Road, and by some show of holding the ford of the same stream on the main Tuscumbia Road. Most of the latter force drifted in squads southward toward the mountains, the remainder, with General Roddey, taking the roads to Tuscumbia and Florence. Toward dark a new force appeared in our front on the Tuscumbia Road, believed to be Armstrong’s brigade, which I afterward learned definitely had been sent back by Forrest from Barton Station to re-enforce Roddey and protect General Hood’s trains. At Leighton I learned that Hood had commenced crossing the river at Bainbridge on Sunday morning and finished on Tuesday evening, marching at once toward Corinth his railroad had never been in operation east of Cane Creek, three miles west of Tuscumbia. I also learned that the pontoon bridge had been taken up on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, and that the entire pontoon train of 200 wagons had passed through Leighton on Thursday amid camped at La Grange the same night, and that it was bound for Columbus, Miss., with a comparatively small guard. Roddey’s so-called division of cavalry had apparently been relied upon to prevent any advance of our forces until the train could get to a safe distance, but his men had become so demoralized by their successive defeats that we could afford to disregard him.

Having communicated with Major-General Steedman, who left me free to make the expedition or not, as I might deem best, I started from Leighton before daylight on Saturday morning, December 31, taking a trail which enabled us to avoid Armstrong’s force and to get in the rear of a portion of Roddey’s command at La Grange, where we captured Col. Jim Warren, of Tenth [Fifth] Alabama Cavalry, and some other prisoners. About 1 p. m. we passed through Russellville, where we encountered another portion of Roddey’s force, which had just arrived from Tuscumbia, and drove it out on the Tuscaloosa road, while we kept on the Cotton-Gin or Bull Mountain road after the train. Some attempt was made to delay us by burning a bridge over Cedar Creek, but we found a ford and caught up with the rear of the pontoon train at dark, ten miles beyond Russellville. We met no resistance, and our advance guard rode through to the front of the train, which extended for five miles, and consisted of seventy-eight pontoon boats and about 200 wagons, with all the necessary accouterments and material, engineering instruments, & c.; all the mules and oxen, except what the pontoniers and teamsters were able to cut loose and ride off were standing hitched to the wagons. Three boats had been set fire to, but so carelessly that no damage had been done. We captured a few prisoners, and went into camp at about the center of the train, fed our horses, and I then started the entire command out in either direction to burn the train, which was done in the most thorough manner and occupied till 3 a. m. 1 should have been glad to bring the pontoon train which was built at Atlanta last winter, and was an exceedingly well appointed one, back to our lines, but the condition of the mules, the mountainous character of the country, and the presence in our rear of a force of the enemy’s cavalry estimated at three times our own strength, prevented. I had also learned from a negro servant of Captain Cobb, of the engineers, who commanded the train, that a large supply train of General Hood, bound from Barton Station to Tuscaloosa, was ahead.

Early next morning (Sunday) I pushed on through Nauvoo, taking the Aberdeen road, which I knew would flank the train. 1 led a detachment from near Bexar, across by a trail to head the train on the Cotton Gin road, and sent another, under Lieutenant-Colonel Lamborn, to follow it, and by 10 p. m. had surprised it in camp a few miles over the State line in Itawamba County, Miss. It consisted of 110 wagons and over 500 mules. We burned the wagons, shot or sabered all the mules we could not lead off or use to mount prisoners, and started back. In one of the wagons was Colonel McCrosky, of Hoods infantry, who had been badly wounded at Franklin. I left a tent with him, some stores, and one of the prisoners to take care of him. About twenty of the teamsters were colored U. S. soldiers of the garrison captured by Hood at Dalton; these came back with us. We returned via Toll-gate and the old military and Hackleburg roads, capturing an ambulance with its guard on the way, to within twenty-five miles south of Russellville, when I found that Roddey’s force and the so-called brigades of Biffle and Russell were already stationed in our front at Bear Creek, and on the Biler road, toward Moulton, to retard us, while Armstrong was reported as being in pursuit. The country was very difficult and rugged, with few roads or trails and scarcely any forage, but we evaded, by a night march of twenty-three miles, all the forces of the enemy except Colonel Russell, whom we attacked unexpectedly on the Moulton and Tuscaloosa road, twelve miles east of Thorn Hill, on Wednesday noon (Lieutenant-Colonel Prosser having the advance), routing him. so speedily and completely that he did not delay our march twenty minutes, and this only to pick up prisoners an(I burn his five wagons, including his headquarters wagons, out of which we got all the brigade and other official papers. We had but a few hours previously captured, with its guard of three men, a small mail bound for Tuscaloosa. About fifty or seventy-five conscripts from both sides of the Tennessee River, that Russell was hustling off to Tuscaloosa, were released by our attack, also eight Indiana soldiers captured by Russell near Decatur. We then continued our march unmolested by way of Mount Hope toward Leighton, but, learning when within ten miles of that place that all our troops had returned to Decatur, we came on by easy marches to the same post, reaching it on Friday evening, 6th instant.

The whole distance marched from the time of leaving Decatur, nine days previously, was 265, and about 400 miles from the time of leaving Chattanooga, two weeks and three days previous.

My entire command numbered less than 600 men, consisting of the Fifteenth Pennsylvania (Anderson) Cavalry, commanded by Lieut. Col. Charles B. Lamborn, and detachments of the Second Tennessee and Tenth, Twelfth, and Thirteenth Indiana Cavalry, command led by Lieut. Col. William F. Prosser.