"Cook Three Days Rations!"

Wednesday, May 4, 1864, In camp near Verdiersville

Something has happened but I know of no one who knows for certain what has happened. There are as many rumors as there are trees in the forest. For myself, I can only think that there are two possibilities. Either the Yankees have come out in order to beat us or our General Lee has seen fit to unleash his army to destroy the Yankees. Either way, something is happening.

It began yesterday  morning. The stillness of the camps was broken with a series of couriers or dispatch riders. Of course, they imparted no information to us high privates, oh no. The officers received the news first and they passed it down the line. We saw Sergeant Harper call Corporals McAteer and our beloved Flynn to him. Some words were spoken but we could not hear what was said. From their looks we could tell that whatever it was, it was of some degree of urgency.

Curiosity got the better of Holton and Barton. They got up and went to them but were cut short by Flynn. "Get back there. All of you, right now. Cook three days rations. Be d'd quick about it."
We tried to comply but were interrupted by the long roll. Rations, cooked or not, were stuffed into our haversacks and we formed up into column on the double quick.

We bade goodbye to our winter quarters with little thought that we would ever see them again. We are an army on the march and have little need for static encampments. Almost all of our march was along the Orange Plank Road, some of which we had planked during the winter. We marched often and rested little. Our spirit, by itself, carried us an extra mile or two before encamping for the night.

It was during this last night, while we were frying our hoecakes, that Barton sprung a surprise on the Dandy Eights mess. Some time ago, he had traded some tobacco to a Yankee picket for some coffee. He had hidden the coffee, intending to keep it for a special time. He announced that the time was now and produced the desirable beans. We stared at them for a moment, taking them all in.

This pause did not last long. In a flash, we built a fire and started our boilers. We realized that we had not enough water in our canteens for all of us to have a decent cup. The march was long and hot and there was little opportunity to refresh our canteens. Hancock and Holton volunteered to take all of our canteens and fill them at a nearby run. We waited painfully for their return and almost attacked them when they got close. In the time it takes to curse Yankeedom, we forgot all about the war. We slept a good sleep.

Our breakfast was scant and quick this morning. We marched on, still not knowing why or where. Despite our all consenting to save some of the coffee for this morning's breakfast, we regretted not having done so. During the morning, we passed a dead Yankee cavalryman every so often. When we stopped around Noon, we heard the call of Yankee cavalry. We formed up into line. I heard some not too distant firing but saw nothing. Back on the road we marched. All during the afternoon we heard sporadic firing, too distant to tell much from it.

At present, the division is encamped around Verdiersville, which is not too far from New Verdiersville. We are not too far off of the Orange Plank Road which is to the south of us. I think we are near the Wilderness.

I must not write much as I am low on ink. I must conserve what I have left as there will probably be much to write about.


I Send You These Few Lines


Coffee. How could the war have been fought without it. Accounts in letters and diaries of the period confirm that coffee was high on the list of wants of the soldiers and sailors. Coffee ranked up there with tobacco as a delectable, addictable luxury.

Anytime someone directs that three days rations be cooked, it is certain that some active campaigning   is imminent. Exactly what is behind this flurry of activity is not for the lower ranks to know. Sometimes, the higher ranks don't know, either.