“Will” Coleman was a comrade worth having. A little older than I, of splendid physique and health, brave, jolly and unselfish, and one who would stand by you until the last. All through the long marches, hardships and battles incident to the campaigns from Spottsylvania to Appomattox we shared our rations, drank from the same canteen and slept under the same blanket. Words are inadequate to express what such comradeship means. No crucible ever tested metal more thoroughly than army life tested human character. Some that much had been expected of, when put to the test, shrunk in our estimation. Other modest souls developed into heroes when occasion demanded. It was a grand experience and I believe with few exceptions all the survivors have been better men therefor. THREE FAMOUS LEADERS. On May 23 we resumed our march and Gens. Grant and Meade rode with Gen. Hancock at the head of our corps in the forenoon. We reached the North Anna river in the afternoon and found the enemy in force with plenty of batteries in position on the south side. A spirited artillery duel took place and about six o’clock in the evening Gen. Hancock ordered an assault on the enemy, who had possession of the two bridges. They were driven across the river, but held the south end of one bridge during the night and made several attempts to burn it, but a heavy thunder shower came up and partly frustrated their efforts. We all got a thorough drenching, for we had no tents and had to lie on the ground and take it. In the morning it was found that the enemy had abandoned their advanced works near the river and our division crossed over and prepared to attack them, but their intrenchments were found so strong the design was abandoned. A FAMINE AND A FEAST. The supply trains had failed to connect with the army, and we were almost destitute of rations. I heard many offers of fifty cents to one dollar for a hard tack. The only thing my chum and I had to eat in the forenoon was some corn we found scattered on the ground where horses had been fed. In the afternoon the irrepressible Coleman went on a foraging expedition and brought back a small chicken, a piece of veal and a “hoe cake,” which made us a good meal. That night the army recrossed the river again and we started out on another of our all-night marches with mud in places half way to our knees. All of our movements that summer took the form of a half circle. We used to march twenty or thirty miles to change the front of not more than one-fourth of that distance, and the boys very appropriately called the movements “Slewing to the left.”