8. Late in April, a bright day came, a brisk wind blew.

Tips of pine trees glistened in the sunshine, but the ground was still soft and soggy.

In the afternoon of April 26th, as I was catching up on the entries in my notebook, a burst

of excitement drew my attention, and orderly dashed up, handed a paper to our officers

and wrote on.

Regiment to break camp and move out at daybreak.

What scurrying to get everything ready?

Usually utensils, eight days rations, crackers or hard bread, bacon and raw pickled pork

wrapped in paper, coffee, flour, brown sugar, salt.

Each tied up in a small cloth bag, like a marble bag.

Cartridge belts and boxes were loaded, twenty or more rounds of ammunition carried in clothing

pockets.

At daybreak, pup tents were unbuttoned from the roof of one shack, rolled with a gum blanket

and the bundle strapped across the shoulders above the haversack.

Gather up everything you want, we're not coming back.

Climbing pans and coffee pots clinked and rattled, knapsacks were stuffed with extra clothing,

including sometimes an overcoat.

Some of the boys looked like moving vans on legs, they took the gall darnedest loads.

It was about 5.30, the world was taking on the peaceful dawn look.

My core went out first.

A few pieces of artillery lumbered past, then my regiments started out.

Out on the warrington road, in the general direction of the Rapa Hannock upstream, I was

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