ing a cold rain-storm
came on, making life for a couple of days about as miserable as it could
well be. Our tents arrived the 24th, when we crossed to the north side of
the river and went into camp.

The 28th, the Johnnies made a spirited attack on our boys, driving in the
pickets. We took up the pontoon bridge and fell back to Lenoir. What a job
we had carrying those great heavy boats to the railroad station a good
fourth of a mile. Government mule-teams were there by the dozen, still we
were called upon to lug those boats such a distance. While we were moving
the pontoon boats, an interesting thing occurred. A railroad train that
had been captured was run off a wrecked railroad bridge into the Holston
River. The bridge was a high one, thirty or forty feet, and it was an
interesting sight to see the train make the plunge and disappear entirely
from view in the river.

November 10. I commenced building winter quarters. A number of the boys
had begun to cut logs for the same purpose, as it was thought we might
stay at Lenoir through the winter. The 11th we marched back to Loudon and
covered the laying of the pontoon bridge, returning to Lenoir in the
evening. At daybreak, the morning of the 14th, we were routed out, struck
tents and formed line in the quickest possible time. Our outposts were
being driven in and we could hear the crack of the rifles and see the
smoke from them out on the meadow as we moved out of camp. The Johnnies'
line of battle came into view directly and we realized we were in for some
fighting at short notice; we had not been badly surprised, but dangerously
near it.

At this time the climax was reached in an experience we had with a recruit
that came to us during the Maryland campaign about the time of the Battle
of South Mountain, I think. He was a deacon in the Baptist church. Two or
three times during the campaign, when we were in camp, the evening being
quiet and favorable, our newcomer would kneel down in his tent and make a
prayer. He would pray for the nation, for the cause for which we were
fighting, for the President and for all the boys. At such times the boys
would keep very quiet and be very respectful. Everything went along all
right until the Battle of Fredericksburg, when we did picket duty among
our dead the second day after the battle. It was discovered that our
friend, the deacon, came off the field that night with his pockets full of
watches he had taken from our dead comrades.