It was a three mile walk to the forts occupied by the Second New York Heavy Artillery. The regiment that afternoon was practicing firing the big cannons in Fort Worth. There were some 32 and 64 and two 100-pounders in the fort, and the small boy who had never heard any ordnance except an old moss-back cannon at a Fourth of July celebration remembers that the cold chills went creeping up his back as the party drew near the fort, for the earth fairly trembled when the big “dogs of war” barked. The father had not been notified that his son was coming to join him, and consequently you may be sure that he was more than surprised when he saw an officer leading by the hand a little lad whom he supposed was so far away.
The father was a man of few words—“what couldn’t be cured must be endured,” so he brushed two or three tear drops away and went back to the command of his gun squad and the boy sat down on a pile of cannon balls, smelled burning powder and heard the roar of the big guns until he was not sure but that he would prefer to be back in York state.
This was in the early days of the war and there was not much system about anything. Probably if it had been a year later and the boy had had to pass a regular examination and muster he would have been sent home. But he, with the rest of the recruits, was merged into the company without any formalities. It did puzzle the captain, though, to know what to do with the youngster, and one day when the regiment was out for inspection the colonel said to Capt. Smith: “Mein Gott, captain! pe you taking soldiers from the cradles?”
Sergt. Loten Miller
Father of Author.
Smith said: “I know I have got a number of quite young soldiers, colonel, but you will find that Co. H will keep its end up with any organization in the regiment.”
The first night in camp the boy did not sleep well. The artillery practice in the fort after his arrival and the thunder of the 32 and 64-pounders and the smell of the burning powder weakened his boyish enthusiasm somewhat. And then the bed he had to sleep on was something different from what he had been accustomed to. So after the bugles had sounded “lights out” he lay awake a long time, listening to the singing of the whippoorwills and thought of the great change that had come into his life in so short a time, and wondered if the realities of a soldier’s life would meet his expectations.
A NIGHT ALARM.
Suddenly like a clap of thunder from a clear sky came the report of a musket outside the fort. The bugles sounded the alarm, and the drummers in the neighboring camps rattled off the “long roll” with a recklessness characteristic of youth.
“Turn out! Turn out! Turn out!” the bugles sounded. “Fall in! Fall in! Fall in!” yelled the orderly sergeants, and, half dressed, the men were marched into the fort and stationed at the guns.