s. As the forest had not yet put forth
its foliage, we knew that growth could not be leaves, and were puzzled
to imagine what it could be. But we finally learned from some of the
boat's crew that it was mistletoe. So far as I knew none of the private
soldiers had ever before seen that curious evergreen, and it was to us
a strange curiosity. But we got well acquainted with it later.

We arrived at Pittsburg Landing on the evening of March 31, about
sundown. On going into camp in our position upon the line, for the
first time in our service we dwelt in tents. We had what was called the
Sibley tent, an affair of a conical shape, rather large, and capable of
accommodating about twelve men, with their accoutrements. As a
circumstance bearing on our ignorance of life in tents, I will say that
we neglected to ditch around them, and on the very first night we slept
in them there came a heavy rain, and the next morning found us lying
more or less in the water, and our blankets and other stuff sopping
wet. But after that, on pitching our tents one of the first things we
did was to dig around them a sufficient ditch with a lateral extension.

I retain a vivid recollection of the kind of army cooking we had for
the first few months in Tennessee. At Camp Carrollton and Benton
Barracks we had company cooks who prepared the food for the entire
company. They were merely enlisted men, detailed for that purpose, and
while their cooking was nothing to brag about, it was vastly superior
to what now ensued. We divided up into messes, of four, eight, or
twelve men, or thereabouts, to the mess, and generally would take turns
in the culinary line. Very few of us knew anything whatever about
cooking, and our exploits in that regard would have been comical if the
effects had not been so pernicious. Flour was issued to us after our
arrival at Pittsburg Landing, but we had no utensils in which we could
cook biscuits, or loaves. So we would make a batter out of flour,
water, grease, and salt, and cook it in a mess pan, the product being
the army "flapjack." It invariably was tough as a mule's ear, about as
heavy as lead, and very indigestible. Later we learned to construct
ovens of wood, daubed with mud, or of stone, and in them, in the course
of time, we acquired the knack of baking good bread. But with us in the
west the hardtack was generally our standard bread diet, and nothing
could beat it.

And for some time our cooking of "Yankee beans,"