Privates of the guard, Adams, Claussenius, Crowley, Flanagan, Gille, Hayes, Keane, McKaig, Powleson, Stealey, Shula, Tooker, Wear, Wilson, and Warren.
Sergeant Clifford and Musician Rupp looked after the cuisine, intending to do the cooking for all three at the camp of the last detail.
The different details having been made, they were sent each to their respective posts, there to await the arrival of their supper, which was then in course of preparation. The process was slow, extremely slow, the trouble with the dishes still continuing. Finally, the cooks, who had in their hurry entirely lost sight of the center squad, declared enough to feed the guard at the other end had been cooked. Placing the rations for seventeen on a handcar, it was dispatched in all haste to its destination. But when it reached the waiting and watching seventeen it was reduced to rations for ten. The seven doughty warriors posted in the center of the bridge had found themselves “between the devil and the deep blue sea,” and, calling a hasty council, had decided to make a fight for life. Well knowing the advantage to be on the side of the party which strikes the first blow, they solemnly agreed to halt that handcar if it ever came by, demand their rations, and, if none were forthcoming, help themselves, and send the messengers on; on, it would seem, to sudden death, could speech of man kill, when the now extremely slim meal reached those hungry seventeen? Returning, the car came at a furious pace. It was easy to see that a fire-eating delegation had been sent down to inquire into the whys and wherefores. But the center squad cared not. They had dined, and dined sumptuously; and now let “the devil and the deep blue sea” fight it out between them. A compromise was finally made between these two by cooking more, and meantime declaring that “that center squad” had caused all the trouble by not consenting to be starved, as gentlemen should under such circumstances. However, to the center squad this did not seem to give full consolation to the belligerents, as they, the center squad, were most roundly abused each time a handcar passed.
In the mean time sentries had been posted in reliefs of five men each at the north end of the bridge, in reliefs of two in the center, and of four at the south end. The night, cold, a chilly wind blowing steadily down the river, and whistling through the timbers of the bridge, passed quietly at each post. On the north side the watches were extended to three hours, but on the south side and in the center the regulation two hours on and four off was observed. At about midnight the company commander made a tour of the guard on a hand-car, signaling with a lantern as he approached each sentry, whose challenges those on the car could not hear, and whose very presence those pumping seemed to ignore, several of the sentries having to spring onto the farthest projecting tie as the car dashed by, grazing their clothes as it passed.
The usual early morning mistakes were made. On the guard at the north side Private Joe Keane mistook the morning star, shining, large and bright, amongst the tops of the swaying trees, for a signal lantern and was proceeding to shoot the “signaler,” when the man on the next post assured him of the unfortunate star’s identity.
Much amusement was caused on the south side by Private Perry’s call, in the early morning, for the corporal of the guard, asking whether he should shoot a rabbit then in the road, to have, as he expressed it, “something good for breakfast.” This guard, indeed, seemed to be a guard of strong sporting propensities. Private Frech of the next relief was seen, a short while after, crawling along the road, almost on hands and knees. His observer stood breathless; surely a dynamiting striker had been discovered. But no; Frech, too, was thinking of that morning’s breakfast, and, unlike Perry, intended to “shoot first and challenge afterward.” However, his stalking proved a failure, and, returning to his more onerous duties, was content, on being relieved, with his breakfast of bacon, mush, and coffee.
As day broke, the heavy, sultry atmosphere gave promise of a day whose heat we, camped on the banks of a cool, quiet river, felt we need not fear. Few, if any, could resist the temptation of a plunge. Every spare moment was devoted to the river, swimming, wading, plunging, wrestling, ducking, and racing along the stretches of sandy beach, no schoolboys could have enjoyed their holiday more.
The heat in Sacramento must have been terrific. Handcar after handcar, pumped by perspiring humans, who gazed with enraptured eyes on the river as they drew near, came down the line in a long procession.
As far as food was concerned open warfare had now been declared between the three guards. Triangular hostilities, in which the small center squad, but for its extraordinary exertions, appeared sadly in danger of being worsted. However, they avoided further strife by gaining possession of their “raw materials,” and then, through Lance Corporal Unger, doing their own cooking. The squad on the south side did the same, Private Heizman acting as chef. This did not entirely settle the question, however. There was our noontide keg of beer; which guard should send to Sacramento for it? Strife had opened anew between the center squad and the guard on the south side. Handcars had come down in such numbers that had a train under escort come through, all could not be removed from the track in time to avoid a collision. Seeing the danger, First Sergeant Ramm ordered his sentries to halt all handcars and call for the corporal of the guard. Shortly after these orders were issued Private Monahan challenged a carload of men from the south guard. Not heeding his call, those in front fixed bayonets, and the others, increasing the speed of their car, rushed at the sentry, who jumped from the track to the platform to avoid being spitted on the bayonets. This angered the center squad, who then refused to let any more from that guard pass without an order from the officer of the guard. Seeing challenges to be of no avail, the sentry would sit on a box between the tracks, with his back toward the oncoming car, which then invariably stopped before striking him. This, then, was the state of affairs between these two guards when the beer subject was broached. Each guard declared that they, and none other, should send to town for the keg, the more violent men from the south side declaring that, should they send, the center squad need expect but the dregs.
Thus the dispute went on till finally a car from the south guard was sent for the coveted prize.