the depravity of an army tent reveals itself.
night threw her dark mantle over the camp of the 200th ind. the details of guard and picket had been made. videts, with sleepless eye and listening ear, kept watch and ward on the outposts, while faithful sentries trod their beats around the great bivouac. all day the army had marched, and was to take the road again at an early hour in the morning. supper had been eaten, and the tired soldiers were gathered around the campfires that gleamed far and near through the darkness.
"si," said shorty to his chum as they sat on a log beside the dying embers, "how d'ye like soldierin', as fur as ye've got?"
"it's purty hard business," said si, reflectively, "an' i s'pose we haint seen the worst on it yet, either, from what i've hearn tell. pity the men that got up this war can't be made to do all the trampin' 'n' fitin'. an' them fellers up in old injjeanny that come 'round makin' such red-hot speeches to git us boys to 'list, wouldn't it be fun to see 'em humpin' 'long with gun 'n' knapsack, 'n' chawin' hardtack, 'n' stan'in' guard nights, 'n' pourin' water on their blisters, 'n' pickin' graybacks off their shirts, 'n' p'leecin' camp, 'n' washin' their own clothes?"
"i think we'd enj'y seein' 'em do all that," said shorty, laughing at the picture si had drawn. "i reckon most of 'em 'd peter out purty quick, and i'd like to hear what sort o' speeches they'd, make then. i tell ye, si, there's a big diff'rence 'tween goin' yerself an' tellin' some other feller to go."
"mebbe they'll git to draftin' after a while," observed si, "'n' if they do i hope that'll ketch em!"
"wall, we're in fur it, anyway," said shorty. "let's take down the bed 'n' turn in!"
it didn't take long to complete the arrangements for the night. they spread their "gum" blankets, or ponchos, on the ground, within the tent, and on these their wool blankets, placed their knapsacks at the head for pillows, and that was all. it was warmer than usual that evening, and they stripped down to their nether garments.
"feels good once in a while," said si, "to peel a feller's clothes oft, 'n' sleep in a christian-like way. but, great scott! shorty, ain't this ground lumpy? it's like lying on a big washboard. i scooted all over the country huntin' fer straw to-night. there wasn't but one little stack within a mile of camp. them derned ohio chaps gobbled every smidgin of it. they didn't leave enuff to make a hummin'-bird's nest. the 200th ind. 'll git even with 'em some day."
so si and shorty crept in between the blankets, drew the top one up to their chins, and adjusted their bodily protuberances as best they could to fit the ridges and hollows beneath them.
"now, si," said shorty, "don't ye git to fitin' rebels in yer sleep and kick the kiver off, as ye did last night."
as they lay there their ears caught the music of the bugles sounding the "tattoo." far and near floated through the clear night air the familiar melody that warned every soldier not on duty to go to bed. next to the 200th ind. lay a regiment of wild michigan veterans, who struck up, following the strains of the bugles:
say, oh dutch'y, will ye fight mit si-gel?
zwei glass o' la-ger, yaw! yaw! yaw!!!
will yet fight to help de bul-ly ea-gle?
schweitzer-ksse und pret-zels,
hur-raw! raw! raw!
during the night there came one of those sudden storms that seemed to be sent by an inscrutable providence especially to give variety to the soldier's life.
struck by a cyclone 111
a well-developed cyclone struck the camp, and si and shorty were soon awakened by the racket. the wind was blowing and whirling in fierce gusts, wrenching out the tent-pins or snapping the ropes as if they were threads. everywhere was heard the flapping of canvas, and the yells and shouts of the men as they dashed about in the darkness and wild confusion. many of the tents were already prostrate, and their demoralized inmates were crawling out from under the ruin. to crown all the rain began to fall in torrents. the camp was a vast pandemonium. the blackest darkness prevailed, save when the scene was illuminated by flashes of lightning. these were followed by peals of thunder that made the stoutest quake.
si sprang up at the first alarm. "git up, here, you fellers!" he shouted. "we'd better go outside and grab the ropes, or the hull shebang 'll go over."
there was not a moment to spare. si dashed out into the storm and darkness, followed by his comrades. seizing the ropes, some of which were already loosened, they braced themselves and hung on for dear life, in the drenching rain, their hair and garments streaming in the wind.
si's prompt action saved the tent from the general wreck. the fury of the storm was soon past. si and his comrades, after driving the pins and securing the ropes, re-entered the tent, wet and shivering for the mercury had gone down with a tumble, or rather it would have done so had they been supplied with thermometers. but the scanty costume in which si found himself afforded a weather indicator sufficiently accurate for all practical purposes.
supper under difficulties 115
the ground was flooded, and their blankets and garments were fast absorbing the water that flowed around in such an exasperating way. sleep under such conditions was out of the question. si and shorty put on their clothes and tried to make the best of their sorry plight.
by this time the rain had nearly ceased. fortunately they had laid in a good stock of fuel the night before, and after a little patient effort they succeeded in getting a fire started. around this the boys hovered, alternately warming their calves and shins.
"this is a leetle more'n i bargained fer," said si. then, taking a philosophical view of the case, he added, "but there's one good thing about it, shorty, we'll be all fixed for mornin', an' we won't have to get up when they sound the revel-lee. the buglers kin jest bust theirselves a-blowin' fer all i keer!"
in this way the soldiers spent the remainder of the night. before daybreak the blast of a hundred bugles rang out, but there was little need for the reveille.
breakfast was soon over, and in the gray dawn of that murky morning the long column went trailing on its way. the weather gave promise of a sloppy day, and the indications were fully verified. a drizzling rain set in, and continued without cessation. the boys put their heads through the holes in their ponchos, from the corners of which the water streamed. with their muskets at a "secure" they sloshed along through the mud, hour after hour. in spite of their "gums" the water found its way in at the back of the neck and trickled down their bodies. their clothes became saturated, and they were altogether about as miserable as it is possible for mortals to be.
a field shanty 117
it seemed to si that the maximum of discomfort had been reached. he had experienced one thing after another during the few weeks since he left home, and he thought each in turn was worse than the last, and about as bad as it could be. but si learned a good deal more before he graduated. all through the long, dreary day the soldiers plodded on. there was little comfort to be derived from the "rest," for the ground was soaked with water.
"why didn't we think of it, shorty," said si, "'n' make it part o' the bargain' when we 'listed that we were to have umbrellers. these gum things don't amount to shucks, nohow, to keep the rain off. i sh'd think uncle sam might do that much for us!"
"i reckon our clothes 'll be purty well washed by the time we git out o' this mess," said shorty.
"feels that way," said si; "but how about the bilin'? a cold bath jest refreshes them pesky little varmints, 'n' makes 'em livelier 'n ever. say, shorty, ye didn't write home anything 'bout our havin' graybacks, did ye?"
"no, not yet; but i was thinkin' i'd tell 'em 'bout it one o' these days."
"well, shorty, i ain't going to tell my folks; it 'd jest make my mother feel awful to know i was that way. and sister maria, and—"
si was thinking aloud, and was going to say "annabel," but he checked himself. that name was not to be mentioned in other ears. but he was afraid she would go back on him if she knew, all about it.
it was nearly night when the 200th ind., dripping and discouraged, filed off into a field of standing corn to pass the night. the men sank to their shoetops in the soft earth. si remarked to shorty that he didn't see why the officers should turn 'em loose in such a place as that. but the longer he lived the more he found out about those things. that was the way they always did.
it's the morning 119
in five minutes after arms were stacked not a cornstalk remained standing in the field. during the afterfnoon the troops had gone over a long stretch of swamp road that was almost impassable for teams. fears were entertained that the wagons of the regiment would not be up that night, and they would not have their tents to shelter them from the storm. in anticipation of such a calamity the boys, gathered in the cornstalks, having a vague idea that they would help out in case of emergency.
taking the top rail 113
then there was a scramble for the fences. recognizing the need of good fuel, an order from the general was filtered through the various headquarters that the men might take the top rails, only, from the fence inclosing tha field. this order was literally interpreted and carried out, each man, successively, taking the "top rail" as he found it. the very speedy result was that the bottom rails became the "top," and then there weren't any. almost in the twinkling of an eye the entire fence disappeared.
the drizzle continued through the evening, and by the sputtering fires the soldiers prepared and ate their frugal suppers. word came that, as was feared, the wagons were hopelessly bemired three or four miles back, and the men would have to make such shift as they could.
the prospect was dreary and cheerless enough. it was little wonder that many of the young hoosiers felt as if they wanted to quit and go home. but with that wonderful facility for adapting themselves to circumstances that marked the volunteer soldiers, they set about the work of preparing for the night. no one who has not "been there" can imagine how good a degree of comfort—comparatively speaking, of course—it was possible to reach, with such surroundings, by the exercise of a little patience, ingenuity and industry.
si and shorty and the others of the "mess" bestirred themselves, and it did not take them more than 20 minutes to build, out of rails and cornstalks, a shelter that was really inviting. they kindled a big fire in front of it, laid some rails within, covered with stalks, and on these spread their blankets. si, who had "bossed" the job, viewed the work with great satisfaction.
"i tell ye, that's no slouch of a shanty!" said he.
