d re-enlisted, along with the rest of us, when the
regiment "veteranized." But his propensity for shirking duty,
especially anything severe or unpleasant, seemed inveterate and
incurable. He made me lots of trouble, for some time, after I became
first sergeant. I was only a boy, and he was a man of mature age, about
fifteen years my senior, and looking back to those days, I can see now
where many times he pulled the wool over my eyes completely and induced
me to grant him favors in the matter of details that he was not
entitled to. But it was not long before I began to understand Press,
and then, if he was excused from duty, or passed over for a lighter
job, the authority had to come from the regimental surgeon. Dr. Julius
P. Anthony, of Brown county, Illinois, was appointed surgeon of the
regiment in September, 1863, and remained with us in that capacity
until we were mustered out of the service. He was not a handsome man,
by any means. He was hawk-nosed, with steel-blue eyes, and had a most
peculiar sort of a high-keyed, nasal toned voice. But he was an
excellent physician, and a shrewd, accurate judge of men. So, when
Press bucked up against Dr. Anthony, he found a foeman worthy of his
steel, and the keen-eyed old doctor was a different proposition from a
boy orderly sergeant. Press would keep close watch of the details as
they progressed down the company roll, and when he was next in turn,
and the impending duty was one he did not fancy, would then retire to
his tent or shack, and when wanted for picket, or some laborious
fatigue duty, would be found curled up in his bunk and groaning
dismally. When we were at Devall's Bluff, at a time about the last of
July, 1864, I discovered him in this condition one morning before
sick-call, when I went to apprise him (out of abundant caution) that he
was next for duty, and not to wander from the camp. He forthwith told
me he was very sick, hadn't slept a wink all night, and that I must
pass over him for the time being. I replied that if he was sick, he
must fall in at sick-call, and have the surgeon pass on his case, so he
climbed out of his bunk, put on his trousers, and made ready. Sick-call
was sounded pretty soon, and I went with Press and two or three of the
other boys to the surgeon's tent. Press kept in the background until
the other cases were disposed of, and then stepped forward. His
breeches were unbuttoned down to nearly the last button, he was holding
them up with h