Orders this morning to draw two days' rations, pack up and
be ready to move at a moment's warning. We drew hard-tack, coffee, bacon, salt
and sugar, and stored them in our haversacks. Some take great care so to pack
the hard-tack that it will not dig into the side while marching, for if a
corner sticks out too much anywhere, it is only too apt to leave its mark on
the soldier. Bacon, too, must be so placed as not to grease the blouse or pants.
I see many a bacon badge about me—generally in the region of the left hip. In
filling canteens, if the covers get wet the moisture soaks through and scalds
the skin. The tin cup or coffee-can is generally tied to the canteen or else to
the blanket or haversack, and it rattles along the road, reminding one of the
sound of the old cow coming home. All trifling troubles like these on the march
may be easily forestalled by a little care, but care is something a soldier is
not apt to take, and he too often packs his “grub” as hurriedly as he “bolts”
it. We were soon ready to move, and filled our canteens with the best water we
have had for months. We did not actually get our marching order, however, until
near three o'clock P. M., so that being anxious to take fresh water with us, we
had to empty and refill canteens several times. As we waited for the order, a
good view was afforded us of the passing troops, and the bristling lines really
looked as if there was war ahead.
O, what a grand army this is, and what a sight to fire the
heart of a spectator with a speck of patriotism in his bosom. I shall never
forget the scene of to-day, while looking back upon a mile of solid columns, marching
with their old tattered flags streaming in the summer breeze, and hearkening to
the firm tramp of their broad brogans keeping step to the pealing fife and
drum, or the regimental bands discoursing “Yankee Doodle” or “The Girl I Left
Behind Me.” I say it was a grand spectacle—but how different the scene when we
meet the foe advancing to the strains of “Dixie” and “The Bonny Blue Flag.”
True, I have no fears for the result of such a meeting, for we are marching
full of the prestige of victory, while our foes have had little but defeat for
the last two years. There is an inspiration in the memory of victory. Marching
through this hostile country with large odds against us, we have crossed the
great river and wil1 cut our way through to Vicksburg, let what dangers may
confront us. To turn back we should be overwhelmed with hos[t]s exulting on
their own native soil. These people can and will fight desperately, but they
cannot put a barrier in our way that we cannot pass. Camped a little after
dark.
SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story
of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 11-12
