Down in the camp at Plan del Rio reveille was sounded before daylight. Breakfast was eaten in the pink of dawn. And listen! The day’s battle had commenced! Cannon were bellowing from the Second Division’s hill—sending grape and solid shot into the Mexican entrenchments upon Telegraph Hill. The Mexicans were replying.
Huzzah! The long roll sounded, signaling to the men to be alert.
“Fall in! Fall in!” the sergeants shouted; and the assembly was not needed. Company B was ready in a jiffy, the men with muskets in hand, their cartridge boxes and bayonet scabbards in place, their knapsacks and their haversacks with two days’ rations hanging from their shoulders. They formed a single rank facing to the right.
“Front face!”
They faced together, in company front.
“In three ranks, form company! By the left flank! Left face! March!” barked First Sergeant Mulligan.
That done, Company B was three men (or files) deep; and Sergeant Mulligan turned it over to Captain Gore.
“Number off!” the captain ordered.
The men numbered.
“Shoulder—arms! To the rear, open order—march! Front!”