this time it was hard to tell
what one's duty was, but I had made up my mind to go and of course I
have never been sorry, as I look back and say with just pride that I
was one who went out to help save our Republic from dissolution and
preserve civilization itself on this Western Hemisphere from
destruction.

I fear I have been wandering from my subject already but I could not
help giving expression to the thoughts that were burning within me.
Yes, I was a Vernon Center boy, my father moving there when I was
sixteen years old. I enlisted September 2nd, 1862, in Company G,
Twenty-fifth Regiment, C.V. Our company met in Hartford, near the old
State House (what is now City Hall), on the morning of September 8th.
We marched down to camp before noon on that day, but instead of finding
tents to sleep in we found a string of barracks long enough for a
thousand men. I want to tell you how they looked as I remember them.
They resembled the cattle sheds that we see nowadays at our fairs,
except that they were built with three tiers, instead of one. The bunks
were made for two men, one above the other, about four feet wide. Of
course we had to have a little straw to lay over the "soft side" of the
boards. This building I believe we named "The Palace Hotel" because of
its "great beauty and comfort." I wonder if you can imagine how
tempting those bunks looked after leaving the good beds that we had
been accustomed to. I think there were some pretty homesick boys that
first night in our new quarters, if I remember correctly. But the food!
Well, I don't think I had better say much about that, for I had been a
farmer boy and I think I had the advantage over some of the boys, as I
knew what it was to rough it and go without my dinner in the winter
time when the days were short and I would be out in the woods all day
chopping, or drawing logs with an ox team.

We left our old camp ground on November 18, 1862, with flying colors,
to the tune of "Dixie" and "The Star Spangled Banner," and other
patriotic airs. But all this did not occur without many tearful eyes,
for the streets were crowded with friends and loved ones that were to
be left behind. We pulled out of the dock at the foot of State street
on the steamer City of Hartford about four o'clock in the afternoon. We
arrived at Williamsburg, L.I., early the next morning, and the good
people of that city treated us with all the sandwiches and coffee that
we wanted. We marched about t