Recollections with the Third Iowa Regiment

by Seymour D. Thompson

We began to see a great and unpleasant difference between the state of things now and a month ago. Then the time passed like a holiday. We were preparing to leave for the war, and the people seemed to think they could not do too much to encourage and assist us. They idolized us as patriots, almost as heroes. We had hazarded all we possessed, they said, for our country's sake. We hence belonged to them. The stripling of seventeen by enlisting gave himself to the public. Everybody talked of him; admired, encouraged, praised. He was a noble lad; he had the brave heart of a man. More likely than not, half a dozen fair misses were ready to quarrel with each other on his account. Indeed, the ladies seemed to be unanimous in the opinion that "none but the brave deserve the fair." A young man who had not joined some company, without he had a very plain excuse, was nowhere among them. The soldier was "all in all;" the proud recipient of every favor, whether of money, advice, flattery, smiles or sighs. It would be surprising if these attentions did not lead us to form a very exalted opinion of our deserts. So it was. The people had humored us until when they handed us over to the Government, we were like spoiled children. We wanted to be humored still. At least, we looked upon ourselves as gentlemen, and thought the contractors should treat us as such. This they certainly did not do. It was bad enough, we thought, to compel us to eat on greasy tin plates and to drink our coffee out of cups of the same material; but to serve hair and brick-dust up to us in our soup, seemed decidedly out of place. At first we contented ourselves with dropping hints to the waiters that a reform in this matter would be agreeable; but seeing our hints unheeded we threw out admonitions, which were likewise a waste of words. Finally, two companies, D and F, indicated their displeasure, at their boarding houses, by turning up the tables, and pelting the waiters with beef bones. It seemed to some of our young ideas a glorious manifestation of the old Saxon spirit of liberty. At least, its results were salutary. In both cases it secured us a magna charta in the shape of a new boarding place with earthen dishes and palatable food.

It is doubtless true that under the impression that we were suffering useless hardships, our complaints were at times very unreasonable. Young soldiers, like young children, sometimes act very foolishly. And as a person in manhood generally sees the folly of his early days, so we subsequently had many a hearty laugh at these complaints about what we had learned to consider luxuries, especially during the fasts of Kirksville and the Tallahatchie.

Our duties at this time differed in some respects from those of later days. Of course we had to retire and rise at the tap of the drum; but we had less fatigue and guard duty and more drill. We were required to drill six hours a day, a very irksome duty, as some had sore feet, and the weather was quite warm.

It is now a matter of ludicrous astonishment to us that before we had been in the United States service a week, we began to grumble about our pay. The State owed us for the three weeks we had passed in its service. Why did it not pay us? It was not such treatment as we had expected to receive; but now they had got us in their power, they would do with us as they pleased. But why did we not think of that before? And who did we mean by that indefinite they? It is a monster that has inflicted upon us untold wrongs, but could any one give his locality?

At length, on the 24th of June, we received pay for the time we had spent in the State service. It was a small sum, less than seven dollars to each man; but many of us had been out of money for some time, and it may be imagined it was highly appreciated. Indeed, before night, some of us grew quite rich over it.

The same day we received our arms. Instead of the Springfield or Enfield rifle of which we had had so many dreams, we were disappointed in finding them a plain, bright musket, marked, "Springfield, 1848." But we did not know as much about these muskets then as we do now. There are some graves on a cotton field near Pittsburg Landing that have a tale to tell about them to any ordnance officer that will pass that way.

The following day we went into camp on the site of the late Camp Ellsworth. We received commodious quarters in the shape of fourteen wall tents to the company. The business of getting into camp consumed the entire day. We were beginners then. A strong line of sentinels was established around us. We did not like it. No, nor have we ever learned to like to be thus imprisoned.

The name of our camp was Kirkwood. It was a beautiful situation. The ground was a gently rolling greensward, over which were scattered trees in pleasant variety, and, near by, swept between his bold banks the majestic "Father of Waters."

It may be presumed that for the first few days of our camp experience, we got along poorly. But we could adapt ourselves more readily to our new mode of life than the members of some regiments in the field; for we had among us many whose frontier life had taught them the mysteries of "camping out." Of course we cooked our food badly. But the ladies who daily visited our camp gave us many important hints on this subject. As yet we had no surgeon; and our officers, either from want of knowledge, or not appreciating the importance of the matter, paid very little attention to it. It was a long time before we learned to cook our food so as not seriously to impair health.