By five o’clock in the morning the camp was astir. The cavalrymen were having their horses and trappings looked after, the artillerymen were testing wheels, carriages, and harnesses, everybody was packing knapsacks and saddlebags and rolling up blankets. The day was foggy and cold, more than half the soldiers were out of humor, and grumblings were frequent. It was, “Where’s that strap?” “Who took my cake of soap?” “Did you see anything of my gun?” “Have I got to leave this folding chair behind, or can I tote it along?” “Have we got to move before the mail comes in?” Then came the call to fall in for breakfast; hot coffee, really fresh bread, and some fresh meat and beans were served out, and everyone felt better. It was the best meal Andy saw for many a weary day. The news had spread throughout the district that the “sodgers” were to move, and crowds came down to see them off, many bringing with them some dainties, in the shape of chicken, jam, hoecakes, and the like. Promptly at six o’clock the bugles sounded, and the head of the column moved off. First came the advance guard, then the pioneers--men with heavy axes to clear the way--then a detachment of cavalry, and then the regular troops. After the troops and artillery came a small detachment of cavalry, detailed to “whip up” the stragglers, who, if they would not obey orders to “march on, and get where you belong,” were pitched into one of the guard wagons which followed for such purposes. Last of all came the wagon train, covered by another band of cavalry and by a small battery. On each side of this long column moved a line of skirmishers, keeping from two to five hundred feet from the road, to prevent any possible surprise from the right or the left, although, just then, no surprise was anticipated. By a quarter to seven the Montgomery Grays fell into their proper place, and then ensued a long march lasting until nightfall, with half an hour’s rest at one o’clock for dinner. Three days’ rations had been served out to be eaten directly from the knapsack, with possibly a chance to kindle a brush fire and heat some coffee. The food was hardtack, coffee, pork and beans, nothing else. Regular army fare had again begun. On the following day, in the middle of the afternoon, it began to rain. At first many thought it would be but a shower, but by the time a camp was selected, it was pouring down in torrents. The Grays found themselves booked for an eighth section of an open field, a portion of which had already been ploughed for spring planting. “Here’s a picnic!” grumbled Leroy, as he dismounted, to find himself in water several inches deep. “How under the sun are we to pitch tents out here?” “We are not going to do it under the sun, Leroy; we’re going to do it under the dripping clouds. Come on, pitch in. Ask Groman for a spade and we’ll soon have a trench dug in which the water can run off.”