Ten years in the ranks, U.S. Army

by Augustus Meyers

Corporal Butler, the assistant instructor, was a young man of medium size, with a fiery temper and a profusion of very red hair and mustache, the greasing, waxing and combing of which consumed much of his spare time. The other corporal, who was assistant fife instructor, and whose name, unless memory fails me, was Pfaefle, was a tall and very good looking young German of a more pleasant disposition. He spent much time in "primping" himself and the boys called him "the dude." I never learned what became of him in after years, but I did learn that Corporal Butler remained in the service all his life and died only recently at a military post at Sackett's Harbor, N. Y., at an advanced age. Sergeant Evans and Corporal Washburn, our school teachers, were both very fair men with no peculiarities. Later on I believe they became citizen clerks in the War Department at Washington.

With a couple of the older boys promoted to lance corporals, who had charge of some rooms, this completed the list of non-commissioned officers who had the immediate charge of the boys and were responsible to the post adjutant, who cared very little how things went.

It took but a short time for me to realize that the quantity of food we received was very scanty for growing boys. While we were not actually starved, we did not get enough to eat and often felt hungry. We had a limited amount of credit at the sutler's store, which was deducted from our pay. Much of this we consumed in buying crackers and cheese or an occasional piece of pie or cake to eke out our scanty food, the sameness of which often palled on us. In the summer months we were given a few vegetables once or twice a week from the post garden after the officers and their families had first received all they wanted. The poor recruits never got any, although they contributed their pro-rata share to the post fund, while the officers were not obliged to contribute anything.

Had we received the entire ration allowed us, it would have been sufficient and we could not have complained as to quantity. The soldier's daily ration at this time consisted of sixteen ounces of salt or fresh beef or twelve ounces of pork or bacon, eighteen ounces of soft bread or flour, or one pound of hard bread and the "small rations," as they were called, such as coffee, sugar, beans, peas, rice, salt, vinegar, desiccated vegetables, soap and candles, which were sufficient, when used collectively, for an entire company. The flour ration of eighteen ounces, when baked into bread, will produce about one-third more in weight of bread. Hence there was a saving of about one-third on flour which was sold to increase the post fund. But we boys never received eighteen ounces of bread per day, and all of our other rations were also reduced.

A post fund, according to army regulations, was created by a tax of ten cents per month to be paid by the sutler for every officer or soldier stationed there, also from the savings on the flour ration between eighteen ounces of flour and eighteen ounces of bread at the post bakery. No saving is supposed to be made on any other portion of the soldier's ration. The management of the fund was generally in the hands of three officers, one of whom acted as treasurer; they were called Post Council of Administration and had power to fix a tariff of prices for the sutler, laundresses, tailor, shoemaker, etc., and the expenditure of the fund for other purposes approved by the commanding officer.

At Governor's Island one of the largest expenses was the band whose members were paid extra (according to their ability) over and above their grade of soldier's pay. Their instruments, which the Government did not furnish, had to be purchased, as well as music and a showy uniform. Other expenses were the post bakery, the post garden and school for the boys. From all this the officers received the greater benefit and yet they were not required by army regulations to contribute to the fund.

When spring came, in pleasant weather I often sat on the west shore of the island, which faced Battery Park in New York, and watched the ferry boats and excursion steamers pass close by, crowded with people who were bent on enjoying themselves. This made me feel melancholy and homesick. Sometimes, when alone, tears would come to my eyes in spite of my efforts to restrain them. When the summer came, I felt less lonely and forsaken. We played ball and other games during our leisure hours and went in swimming very often on the south shore of the island where there was a good gravelly beach, interspersed with mossy rocks.

Early in June we received two months' pay. A private soldier's pay at this time was but seven dollars per month, but was raised by act of Congress to eleven dollars about six months after I entered the service. The officers' pay was raised also all along the line. The musician's pay was always one dollar more per month than that of a private, and I was, therefore, entitled to sixteen dollars for my two months' service; but after the sutler's, tailor's, and laundresses' bills were deducted, I had but a few dollars left.

Immediately after being paid the soldiers and some of the boys started gambling with cards and dice in secluded places all over the island, under trees, behind buildings and even in the graveyard. I was pressingly invited to join in some of the games but I refused as I had no inclination for playing. Gambling was forbidden and the gamblers punished if caught. I wished to get a pass to visit New York and did not care to take any chances. I applied for a pass and got permission to be absent from nine o'clock on a Saturday morning to Retreat at sundown on Sunday.

I put on my best uniform, polished my shoes and buttons, exhibited my pass to the guard on the dock and was rowed over to the Battery in New York, whence I had departed two and a half months before. I walked rapidly through Battery Park and up Broadway towards my home. I was anxious to see my mother from whom I had only heard by letter since my departure. I had not gone far when I was jeered at by boys and larger hoodlums and saluted with such questions as "Soger will ye work?" and their replies of "No! First I'd sell me shirt." I flushed with anger but could do nothing except to hasten my steps and get away from my tormentors, only to encounter others on my way home. Even respectable people looked me over as though I was a freak or a curiosity of some kind.