CHAPTER VI. INCIDENTS.

Previous

It will be remembered by some, that at an early period of our regimental history, a fever for enlistment into the regular army prevailed to a certain extent. The causes which produced this state of things are unknown to the writer, but it seems probable that highly colored statements as to the relative advantages of one branch of the service over another had been employed.

Col. Wells, as the event proved, felt no sympathy with this movement, and had no idea of quietly looking on while his Regiment was depleted in numbers to fill the voracious maw of Uncle Sam. Accordingly, taking his opportunity when they were drawn up for dress parade, he expressed his views in the case in a manner that held the attention of all to the close. That part of his argument which covered the points of promotion and travel, as nearly as can be recalled, was something like this. “You have been promised opportunities for promotion and travel: as for travel, you would have plenty of that, and would have to travel pretty close to the line. With regard to promotion in the regular army, there is a regular system of promotion, in which non-commissioned officers only stand a chance of sharing, and they after years of waiting.” The address, whether from its sarcasm or its sense, was effectual in curing the uneasiness that had prevailed.

At one time, the young and popular Captain of a certain Company saw fit to celebrate his birthday by furnishing his men with an unusual treat. A supply of “lager” was secured from a neighboring fort, and placed conveniently in one of the tents, with the understanding that all were welcomed to partake. As the evening advanced a spirit of jollity naturally prevailed, stimulated a little, it may be, by the influence of the Teutonic beverage, till the stentorian voice of Orderly B— rang out even more loudly than usual, summoning the Company to fall in for evening roll-call, after which quiet was restored, and night settled down peacefully as usual over our camp.

The Company in which occurred the last incident numbered among its original members two, who were truly of a kindred spirit, though of different birth. Once, for some infraction of discipline in which both were concerned, they were compelled to wear “the wooden shirt,” and to march back and forth before the Captain’s quarters: yet they were far from being disheartened, but with great merriment performed this unusual sentry duty, assisting each other, in case of any accident, with an almost brotherly regard. One of this pair of intimate friends is believed to have died at Andersonville. As to his comrade, many years have passed since the writer last beheld his strongly marked features, and whether he is still in the land of the living is a matter of uncertainty. So drops the curtain over our heroes.

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.”
Shakspeare.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page