During the forenoon we went ashore and were marched up on some high ground overlooking the river. We eyed with as much curiosity as a small boy would his first circus two or three thousand rebel prisoners captured at Spottsylvania. The next morning, May 17th, 1864, we fell in bright and early, and at the command “fours right” marched in the direction of Fredericksburg. The day was a fearfully hot one and the dust rising in clouds filled our mouths and nostrils, thoroughly impregnated our clothing, hair and skin, producing intolerable thirst. At the sight of a house or brook the men would make a break from the ranks and run for dear life to get a chance at the water. GOOD-BYE KNAPSACK. My first forenoon’s struggle with a knapsack convinced me that I had got enough of it. Selecting a shirt, towel, a pair of socks, soap and writing portfolio I rolled them up in a blanket which I slung over my shoulder and went it more comfortably. Many others imitated my example and the roadside from Belle Plain to Spottsylvania was strewn with blankets, knapsacks, overcoats, etc. We passed through Fredericksburg about sunset and assumed that a halt would be made near the city, but they did not halt us to even boil coffee, so we plodded on in the darkness, nibbled our hard tack and wondered how much that they thought we could stand. At midnight we had caught up with Grant’s army after a march of thirty-five miles. CHAPTER VIII. IN A BIG FIGHT WITH HANCOCK’S VETERANS. The next morning we were awakened by the booming of cannon and clash of musketry. As we got up off the ground we could see smoke curling up from the tops of the trees on a hillside a mile or more to the south of us. We were foot-sore and covered with dust from our big march of the previous day, and few of us had any water in our canteens. Before we had time to find any or make coffee we got the command “fall in” and were soon advancing toward the firing line. On every hand there were evidences of the terrific fighting that had been going on for several days. The fields were strewn with clothing, knapsacks, canteens, muskets, dead horses and broken artillery caissons, and the trees were riddled with bullets, shot and shell. The dead had been buried but with such haste that in many places the bodies were scarcely covered. One time as we came to a halt I was horrified to see a human hand protruding from the earth near my foot. We had not gone far before we began to meet the wounded, some able to walk, while others were borne on stretchers and blankets. It surely began to look like real warfare. Our men grew silent and their faces took on a serious expression. We knew that our time had come and that the regiment with its full ranks was to strengthen the thin line in front.