A few days after my arrival, while walking up Main street with a friend, I was approached by an officer in a handsome uniform and handed a large sealed envelope stamped “official business.” Judge my surprise when upon opening it I found a commission as First Lieutenant of infantry in the Provisional Army of the Confederate States, with orders to report to Colonel Shields at the Camp of Instruction. This was a windfall, indeed, and with all my heart I thanked the kind friend who had taken so much interest in my behalf. Some funds were now to be raised on the strength of the commission to pay board bills, etc., and I therefore directed my steps to the office of dear, good old Major John Ambler, paymaster, upon whom I had more than once before called when in trouble—and what Marylander had not. They were his especial favorites, and he would rather pay them at the beginning than at the end of every month. This little necessary piece of business attended to, I proceeded to rub up my uniform preparatory to paying my respects to Colonel Shields, at Camp Lee. I found the Colonel a very pleasant gentleman, who received me most cordially, and upon presenting my papers I was assigned to my quarters with orders to report next morning, when I would receive instructions. In the morning I was on time. With a bland smile the Colonel informed me that my duties would be confined to superintending guard-mounting, instructing the sentinels in their duties, and to organizing into squads, to drill as many as possible of the several thousand conscripts in camp. I must confess this was putting it upon a sick man pretty heavy, but I determined to do the best I could for the present. Upon inquiring if I had any assistants, I was told, “yes, Captain, Frank Schaffer, but he isn’t here much.” I had never met Schaffer, but knew who he was, so I started out to hunt him up. I soon found him, and reported my orders. He laughed, and told me not to trouble myself much about the conscripts, “unless,” said he, “you want to be driven as crazy as a March hare.” I soon found that he was right, for of all the mean, filthy, ignorant, God-forsaken people it had ever been my lot to encounter, these conscripts exceeded all. You might drill them for hours without making the least impression, and when at last exhausted patience would draw forth language rather strong and unmilitary, you were sure to hear something like “I don’t know nuthin ’bout soldiern, nor darned ef I keer ’bout larnen, and jist say I might go home, mister, an’ I’m off.” I soon found it utterly impossible to do anything with them, and took the responsibility of directing my attention to the lighter duty of mounting guard, for I knew the commandant would never be the wiser, as he seldom came out of his office except to go home. As to looking after the camp it was something he never thought of; indeed, never having had any experience as a soldier, he scarcely knew one end of a musket from the other.