re. The bacon (not sugar-cured)
was stuck on a stick and roasted before the fire, while the grease was
allowed to fall on the cracker on a chip below.

The Delmonico man might boast of a higher grade of food and better
cooking, but the soldier wins on the appetite.

After supper we stood around the camp-fires drying the outside of our
clothes, telling stories and smoking. Then we prepared for bed.

The men in the companies are always divided into messes; the average
number of men in each was usually about six. The messes were like so
many families that lived together, slept together and ate together, and
stood by each other in all emergencies. There was no rule regulating the
messes. The men simply came together by common consent. "Birds of a
feather flock together."

In winter one bed was made for the whole mess. It consisted of laying
down rubber cloths on the ground and covering them with a blanket, and
another and another, as occasion required, and if the weather was foul,
on top of that other rubber cloths. Our saddles covered with our coats
were our pillows. The two end men had logs of wood to protect them.
Only our coats and boots were removed.

On a cold winter night, no millionaire on his bed of down ever slept
sweeter than a soldier on a bed like this.

In the summer each soldier had a separate bed. If it was raining, he
made his bed on top of two fence rails, if he could not find a better
place. If the weather was good, old Mother Earth was all the soldier
wanted.

As this was a cold, stormy night, of course we all bunked together. My,
what a nice, soft, sweaty time we had! The next morning all traces of my
rheumatism had disappeared, and I felt as spry as a young kitten.

As the day advanced the clouds rolled by, the sun came out bright and
smiling, and the command marched back to the old camp-ground, near
Harrisonburg.

With every regiment there is a Company Q. Company Q is composed of lame
ducks, cowards, shirkers, dead-beats, generally, and also a large
sprinkling of good soldiers, who, for some reason or other, are not fit
for duty. Sometimes this company is quite large. It depends upon the
weather, the closeness of the enemy, and the duties that are being
exacted. Bad weather will drive in all rheumatics; the coming battle
will drive in the cowards; hard marching and picket duty will bring in
the lazy. But then, as I have just said, there were some good soldiers
among them--the slightly wound