Readville was selected as the rendezvous and camping-ground for the regiment, and on the twelfth of September, Company D went into camp at that place, followed at intervals by the other companies as they severally attained a size which would warrant a respectable appearance on drill and parade.
The camp was pleasantly situated on high ground, surrounded on three sides by other camps, while the fourth was skirted by woods, back of which, as a fitting background, rose the blue hills of Milton in all their beauty.
We were quartered in barracks, long wooden sheds running parallel to each other, and perpendicular to and facing the parade-ground. Back of each barrack, and separated by a street some twenty feet in width, were the little cook-houses, while still farther to the rear were the officers' quarters, quartermaster's department, etc.
The first night in camp was a novel one to most of us, and formed the entrance to a new phase of existence, a military life. We marched from the depot and were received with shouts of welcome by the companies already in camp. Halting in front of the barrack assigned us, the order to break ranks was the signal for a simultaneous rush of all to take possession of the movable bunks, which in two tiers lined both sides of the building, followed by another stampede after straw to fill them.
My first military duty was the scouring of sundry rusty pots and pans preparatory to the evening meal. All the true patriots came into camp with empty haversacks, determined to brave the soldier's fare at the outset, and our pride was at its height when, formed in line, we marched single file to the cook-house, and had doled out to us from its window, the huge slice of bread and dipper of coffee or tea.
"Truly, we are serving our country at last," we said, and ate our rations without thought of what we had left behind; but that slice of bread, varied often by hard-tack, so often, indeed, that the bread was the exception, and the dipper of coffee soon became an old, very old story, and the good things at home would rise in our memories, the ghosts of better times, and would not down at our bidding, nor would the hard-tack, either.
The interval between supper and roll-call was wisely spent in making our bunks comfortable for the night; and that first night the custom was instituted by our captain, of reading the lesson and prayers for the day after morning and evening roll-call; and was faithfully continued until the regiment went into tents, some seven months later.
Punctually at nine, taps sounded and the lights were extinguished, and as reveille was at half-past five, we naturally desired and expected to lose ourselves immediately; but alas! for the fallacy of human hopes, not an eye in that barrack was closed in sleep a moment before midnight, except, perhaps, that of one of our number, afterwards discharged for deafness. The evil one himself was, without doubt, on a rampage that night, and raised a very bedlam in our midst.
In vain did the orderly threaten; in vain did the officer of the day, encircled by that mysterious sash at which we raw ones had gazed with awe, command silence. For a moment there would be a lull in the storm, deluding the sober-minded into a belief that quiet was at length restored, when, with a laugh or a jest, the uproar would burst forth with redoubled vigor. Even after sheer exhaustion had quieted the unruly ones, it was hard to sleep as we lay thinking over our strange situation, and at intervals through the night caught the distant challenge of the sentry at the approach of the welcome relief. But the longest day must have an end, and at last our weary eyelids were closed not to open again till the loud beat of the drum summoned us from the land of dreams.
With the return of the day our new duties commenced; some were detailed for camp guard, others for police duty, but most of us were marched out to drill, and during our nine months' service this proved an unfailing source of amusement and occupation, and was improved to the utmost by the officers.