PICKET DUTY.
I fear I was not
appreciated on the fort, as I was superseded after my first day's effort and
have since been assigned to other duty; but I nobly served my country, and I
know that history will do me justice. Yesterday I was out in the country among
the wild flowers. I went out with a picket guard, about three miles in a
southeasterly direction, to what is called Mills cross-roads, relieving the old
picket. After spreading our blankets on the grass beside the fence, we entered
vigorously on our duty of waiting and watching for the rebel Gen. Garnett, and
listening to the sweet warbling of the singing birds. There is nothing in
picket duty that stirs up a great amount of enthusiasm, but still it is a good
steady business, with occasionally a little ray of excitement, as when a darky
comes along and one has to examine his pass.
About the middle of
the afternoon, we heard the approach of horses, and looking up the road, saw
two ladies coming at a swift gallop towards us. My first impulse was to charge
cavalry, but I refrained from doing so, as I saw they were not enemies. As they
came up, I recognized Madames Bartholomew and Cliffton. I turned out the guard
and extended to them the customary civilities. They said they were out for an
afternoon's ride and supposed it was as far as they could go in that direction.
I told them they might go further if they wished, and I should be pleased to
furnish them an escort, only it would weaken my lines. They laughed and thanked
me for my gallantry, but thought they had better not venture farther. I
inquired if there were any news stirring in town, and they answered, “All quiet
on the Roanoke.” They then bade us good afternoon and started on the retreat.
There is no church service today; all hands are busy at work on the fort, and
things are beginning to look as though war was liable to break out at almost
any time.
SOURCE: David L.
Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p.
87-8
