While busy with the preparations for marching, the members of the company had failed to notice how silently and unperceived the day had crept into existence. The sun was now slowly rising. The apparent dead and silent world by which the camp had been surrounded was awakening into life. The windows of the adjacent houses were being thrown back. Chimneys were emitting their smoke. Workmen were passing by. Up in the dome of the Capitol could be seen a human form waving a hat to and fro; first, several times on this side, then on that, then he would poise it for a few seconds directly in front of him, and then he would commence again. Inquiry elicited the fact that he was a member of the Signal Corps, and that from his position of vantage he was transmitting signals, made by other signalmen stationed at the river, to one stationed below on the ground. These messages were then carried to headquarters.
In the mean time preparations had been made to guard the camp during the absence of the troops. The various details, that composed the camp guard, were relieved and sent back to their respective companies. Company H was detailed to take their place.
At 5:30 A. M. the command “Fall in” was given. With the haversack and canteen slung over the shoulders, the haversack on the left side, the canteen on the right, and the cartridge belt strapped over both to keep them from interfering with the movements of marching by swinging, the company presented a picturesque appearance. On the night of our departure from the city we were compared to the regulars in the morning papers thus:
“There was a marked contrast between the 675 sunny faced expectant scrambling young fellows and the 300 bronzed regulars that swung along the Oakland mole with clocklike precision.... They moved like a machine, passionless, steady, with their eyes fixed on one man, the captain. The militia ... went off in a happy fashion as if they were starting on an annual summer camping trip. They laughed and called to each other as they marched along.”
Had the reporter who wrote the above seen the Company on this morning he would have recognized that a transformation had taken place. He would not have found the contrast so obvious. Instead of sunny-faced, expectant, scrambling young fellows, he would have found bearded youths, bronzed with heat from the sun, determination written on their faces, and ready to obey explicitly the orders, be what they may, of their Captain. Added to all this, he would discover that the places of the holiday and neatly fitting uniforms were taken by worn and tattered ones covered with innumerable grease spots and dust. The leggings he would see had ceased to be new, while the hats he would not have recognized.
The regiment was formed into two battalions. The first battalion was under the command of Major Burdick, the second under the command of Major Jansen. Company B was the left company of the first battalion. The ambulance corps were divided into two sections. One section, under the command of Major Galwey, regimental surgeon, was attached to the first battalion. The other section, under command of Captain O’Brien, assistant regimental surgeon, was attached to the second battalion. The field music was detailed as litter bearers. The first battalion marched out of the Capitol grounds down L street and took up a position at the end of L street, which runs perpendicular to the river.
The march to the levee showed the week passed at the Capitol grounds had not been profitless. Its good effects were seen on both officers and men. Instead of doing as they did on the Fourth, using their aftersight, the officers on this occasion used a good deal of foresight. On that memorable day, it will be remembered, that no attempt was made to keep the masses that obstructed the passage of the troops into the depot from being augmented by constantly arriving forces. This time, however, whenever a halt was made, sentinels were immediately posted, and no one was allowed to pass through who would impede the progress of the troops.
While the battalion was on the march, and somewhere near to the place it was to occupy, men were selected from each company and sent forward to act as scouts. Privates A. Fetz and Unger were selected from Company B; Fetz was sent to the left, while Unger was sent to the right. Both were told to patrol along the next streets parallel with the march of the battalion, halting whenever the battalion halted. Any commotion they observed they were to report to the commanding officer of the battalion. The battalion, arriving at the point of occupation, was wheeled to the left by fours, formed into line, and halted. “Rest” was given, and the men, making themselves at ease, proceeded to view their surroundings. The ambulance corps, it was discovered, had taken up a position in a small alley running at right angles to the street of occupation. Here they erected a temporary hospital in anticipation of a large number of wounded. The young doctors attached to the corps, and especially Drs. O’Malley and McCulloch, were anxious to try their instruments and skill upon some one. On the southeast corner of Front and L streets is a large two-story building occupied by a hide and pelt establishment. Upon the roof of this building part of the signal corps, it was found, had established themselves and were busy at work transmitting signals to the captain of the corps standing below on the opposite side of the street. To the south of the battalion’s position, at the intersection of L and First streets, Corporal Burdick with a squad of braves (?), consisting of Privates Wise, R. Radke, and Sindler, could be seen on duty guarding the rear of the position by refusing to allow any one to pass without proper authority. Directly in front of the battalion on Front street, which runs parallel to the river, were several trains of freight-cars. Beginning at L street, and running to the left towards K street, on Front street, was a long, low platform, which was used for handling freight. Upon a parallel street, a block to our right, the second battalion was posted. The Third Regiment was a block farther up still.
It was while the company was thus taking in its surroundings that an incident occurred which attracted their attention and in which the captain of the Signal Corps and an employee of the hide and pelt establishment figured. It was an incident which tended to impress upon the members the reality and the seriousness of their position. An employee of the hide and pelt establishment was seen by the captain of the signal corps in the act of ascending to the roof of the building. Feeling that every thing depended upon prompt and decisive action, he drew a Colt’s revolver, and, pointing it at the man on the ladder, cried out sharply, “Come down from there.” The man turned, looked at the threatening revolver, then at the one behind it, grew pale, muttered something about pointing a pistol at a man, descended the ladder and disappeared within the building. There was no parleying here about coming down. It was a command that could only be disobeyed at the risk of life. The moment between the giving of the command and its being obeyed was a moment of dead silence; the man’s life depended upon the twitching of a finger. As the man disappeared the members of the company almost unanimously cried out, “That’s the way to do it.” A valuable lesson was inculcated into the members which proved of value later in the day. The “boys” saw that if they were to accomplish any thing they must be prompt and determined.
Hardly had the undue excitement of the above-mentioned incident subsided when attention was attracted to a sort of commotion taking place at a point where Corporal Burdick was stationed. It seems, from what could be gathered afterwards, that a hack drawn by a spirited pair of horses came dashing up L street and attempted to pass through the lines. Corporal Burdick, assisted by Private Wise, was not to be denied. The horses were brought to a standstill, and Sam Wise informed the driver that he couldn’t go through. The Jehu explained that his business was imperative, his fare being none other than the Fourth of July famous United States Marshal Barry Baldwin. The marshal had to introduce himself, however, before he was allowed to go through the lines.