s were an unnecessary evil; at least, so it seems to me. They were
in some cases evil personified. Many of them went into the business
solely "for the money there was in it," and did not hesitate to trade on
the necessities of the "boys in blue," so that as a rule there was no
love lost, and enlisted men would raid a sutler with as little
compunction as the sutler would practice extortion on them. The sutler's
tent was too often the army saloon where "S.T.--1860--X bitters" and
kindred drinks were sold at inflated prices. There were exceptions to
the rule, however, and Mr. Patten was one of these. The whole sutler
business was a mistake. The government should have arranged for an
issue, or sale at cost through the commissary and quartermaster
departments, of such articles as were not regularly furnished and were
needed by the officers and men. Sutlers sold a thousand and one things
that were not needed and that the men would have been better without.
Spirits and tobacco could have been issued as a field or garrison
ration, under proper restrictions. This was done at times but, whether a
good thing or a bad thing, depends altogether upon the point of view. To
take up the discussion would be to enter into the controversy as to the
army canteen, which is not my purpose.

The medical department of the regiment was in good hands. No officer or
enlisted man of the Sixth Michigan ever wanted for kind and sympathetic
care when ill or wounded. The position of army surgeon in the field was
no sinecure. He had to endure the same privations as the other officers.
He was not supposed to be on the fighting line, to be sure, but had to
be close at hand to assist in the care of those who were, and oftentimes
got into the thickest of it whether he would or not. To the credit of
the profession, be it said, no soldier was ever sick or wounded who did
not, unless a prisoner of war, find some one of the green-sashed
officers ready to minister to his needs. And it often happened that army
surgeons permitted themselves to fall into the enemy's hands rather than
to desert those who were under their care and treatment.

The surgeon was Daniel G. Weare, who gave up a lucrative practice to put
on the uniform of a major in the medical department of the volunteer
army. He was an elderly man with iron grey hair and beard which became
towards the last almost as white as snow. This gave him a venerable
look, though this evidence of apparent age was si