Now at the close of March the expedition was ready to start. Cartridge boxes and belts were full, clothing repaired, horses shod, and according to the cavalry the infantrymen (who were called “doughboys”) all had their shoes resoled. Ned well knew that the general was outfitted better than anybody; for at headquarters he had seen Mrs. Custer flying busily about the house, gathering things to stow in the stout blue mess-chest bearing the letters “G. A. C., 7th Cav., U. S. A.” In the little room which was his as orderly bugler or trumpeter Ned awoke early, full of eagerness. This was the day of the start, and he must do the starting. According to the trumpeter orders, written by the adjutant and tacked on the wall, and to the clock, “First Call” was not due for twenty minutes. So he must wait, until at the exact second he issued forth into the pink dawn, before the office, as it was called. Standing erect and soldierly at the foot of the steps, facing in all directions, he blew on his battered brass bugle from the quartermaster’s supplies the warning “First Call.” In due time the company buglers began to gather, around the flag-pole; until as the sun rose it was time for the reveille. At word from the sergeant of the guard (who yawned) all put bugles to lips and sounded the initial note. “Boom!” belched the morning gun; up to the top of the pole sped the flag, floating out gloriously; and through the bright morning air pealed, from the buglers beneath it, the rollicking reveille: I can’t get ’em up, I can’t get ’em up, I can’t get ’em up this morning, I can’t get ’em up, I can’t get ’em up, I can’t get ’em up at all; The corp’ral’s worse than the private, the sergeant’s worse than the corp’ral, The lieutenant’s worse than the sergeant, and the captain’s worse than them all. At the same moment, from the infantry and artillery camp also pealed its reveille. There was a brief pause; and next must be sounded the “Assembly.” Out from the barracks poured the men, buttoning coats and clapping on caps, to form their companies. The sergeants called the roll, and reported on the “present, absent, or accounted for.” Smokes were wafting upward from the chimneys of company cooks, and of wives and servants in officers’ row, and soon Ned, now alone, from the parade-ground must sound “Mess”: Soup-y, soup-y, soup-y, not a single bean; Coff-ee, coff-ee, coff-ee, and not a bit of cream; Pork-y, pork-y, porky, and not a blamed streak o’ lean! So, too, he sounded “Stables”: Come off to the stable all ye who are able, And give your horses some oats and some corn; For if you don’t do it your colonel will know it, And then you will rue it, as sure as you’re born. And “Sick Call”: Go get your pills, go get your pills; Go get your pills, go get your pills; Go get your pills, go get your pills; Go get your pi-lls. Go get your pills.