We have been three
days in camp, and have fully recovered from the fatigues of our long journey.
Drill is the order of the day, as it is the necessity of the hour. Officers and
men have yet to learn the rudiments of military maneuvering. There is not a
company officer who can put his men through company drill without making one—or
more—ludicrous blunders. Yesterday our First Lieutenant was drilling a squad of
men. He was giving all his attention to "time," and did not notice a
fence had planted itself directly across our path. Suddenly he shouted:
"Who—who—who! Come this way, you fellows in front—don't you see you are
running into that fence?"
On Monday morning
one of the men had been cleaning his gun, and, wishing to know if it would burn
a cap, laid it down for the purpose of getting one. When he returned, instead
of picking up his own gun, he took a loaded one that belonged to a guard. As a
result of his stupidity, the ball passed through two tents, entered a young
man's heel and passed through his foot lengthwise, rendering him a cripple for
life. Rumors were in circulation all day Tuesday of Rebel movements. At dusk
twenty rounds of ammunition were distributed.
We were then sent to
our quarters to await orders. A spirit of unrest pervaded the camp. Men
gathered in groups and whispered their conviction of a night attack.
At nine o'clock a
picket fired an alarm. The bugle sounded "To arms." Orderlies ran up
and down the line of tents shouting. "Fall in! Fall in with your arms; the
Rebels are upon us!"
For a moment there
was some confusion, but in less than five minutes we were in line, eager to
meet the foe. But no enemy appeared. It was a ruse gotten up by the officers as
an emergency drill, and, as such, it was a decided success. There were some
ludicrous incidents, but, as a rule, the men buckled on their arms with
promptness and appeared as cool as on dress parade.
Yesterday morning,
as we were forming for company drill, a courier rode into camp with dispatches
from headquarters. Five companies from our regiment were ordered to repair at
once to Fort Gaines, eight miles distant, on the Virginia side of the Potomac.
We started off briskly, but before we had gone a mile the order was
countermanded, and we returned to camp.
The news this
morning is not encouraging. General Pope has been defeated and driven back upon
the fortifications around Washington, and the Rebels are trying to force their
way across the Potomac. We are under marching orders. Rumor says we are to join
Burnside's forces at Frederic City.
SOURCE: David Lane, A
Soldier's Diary: The Story of a
Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 8-9
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