“Mount at will, and go ahead.”
Sergeant Murphy took charge of a detail from several companies. We rode down the road a few rods, and a staff officer then assumed command of the detachment.
“We're to go out beyond the picket line and watch the movements of the rebels at daybreak,” the lieutenant informed Sergeant Murphy.
In fifteen minutes we were at the last picket post out toward Todd's Tavern.
“Detail a man to ride ahead, Sergeant,” the officer directed.
I had ridden close up to the officer to hear all I could about the prospects of a fight, and the sergeant detailed me.
“The object of keeping a man well to the front,” the officer said to the sergeant, “is to draw the enemy's fire should we run into the rebel pickets, and thus prevent the detachment from falling into an ambush.”
“Very proper, sir,” assented the sergeant.
“You will ride down the road, keeping a hundred yards or so from the head of the column,” the lieutenant said to me. “Load your carbine and keep it ready for use, but don't fire unless the enemy opens on you, for it is desired to secure a favorable position for watching the movements of the rebels as soon as it is light enough.”
It was quite dark down there in the woods. I did not take kindly to the thought that I was to be used as a target for the rebel pickets. This riding to the front to draw the enemy's fire was a new experience to me. But I tried to comfort myself with the hope that we were so far out on the left that we would not encounter the Confederates.