e mud and rain,
thinking thereby to serve their country better. The real troubles had
not come, and they were in a hurry to suffer some. They had not long
thus impatiently to wait, nor could they latterly complain of the want
of a chance "to do or die." Volunteering for perilous or very onerous
duty was popular at the outset, but as duties of this kind thickened it
began to be thought time enough when the "orders" were peremptory, or
the orderly read the "detail."

Another fancy idea was that the principal occupation of a soldier should
be actual conflict with the enemy. They didn't dream of such a thing as
camping for six months at a time without firing a gun, or marching and
countermarching to mislead the enemy, or driving wagons and ambulances,
building bridges, currying horses, and the thousand commonplace duties
of the soldier.

On the other hand, great importance was attached to some duties which
soon became mere drudgery. Sometimes the whole detail for guard--first,
second, and third relief--would make it a point of honor to sit up the
entire night, and watch and listen as though the enemy might pounce upon
them at any moment, and hurry them off to prison. Of course they soon
learned how sweet it was, after two hours' walking of the beat, to turn
in for _four hours_! which seemed to the sleepy man an eternity in
anticipation, but only a brief time in retrospect, when the corporal
gave him a "chunk," and remarked, "Time to go on guard."

[Illustration: FALL IN HERE THIRD RELIEF!]

Everybody remembers how we used to talk about "one Confederate whipping
a dozen Yankees." Literally true sometimes, but, generally speaking, two
to one made hard work for the boys. They didn't know at the beginning
anything about the advantage the enemy had in being able to present man
for man in front and then send as many more to worry the flanks and
rear. They learned something about this very soon, and had to contend
against it on almost every field they won.

Wounds were in great demand after the first wounded hero made his
appearance. His wound was the envy of thousands of unfortunates who had
not so much as a scratch to boast, and who felt "small" and of little
consequence before the man with a bloody bandage. Many became despondent
and groaned as they thought that perchance after all they were doomed to
go home safe and sound, and hear, for all time, the praises of the
fellow who had lost his arm by a cannon shot, or had his