The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1898-08-17

bad cess to IT'D which had taken many
sheckels from our regiment. Then or
past grim warriors of stone guarding
the sacred fields of forgotten heroism
on past Missionary Ridge, and at its
foot-Rossville. Eight miles from
our late camp. The sun had ceased
it's carresing and had begun to smite
The dust rose up in clouds. but the
soldiers faltered not. Arriving at the
little station, which is four miles from
Chattanooga, the boys sought the
shelter Of friendly trees, and after
brief rest tackled the baggage, which
was aboard by noon. Then the bag
gage and stock trains steamed away.
At 1 o'clock the bugle sounded, and
the first battalion was marched aboard
it's train Of 10 cars. There were three
other sections, the last leaving at 3
o'clock. AS the band boarded the
last section playing 'Dixie,' an old
gray-haired veteran, his joints unlim-
bered by the melody of that most
inspiring of all pieces, was seen shout
ing and frantically waving his arms.
That's the last we saw of Rossville.
Nor did we tarry long at Chattanooga.
In one Of the yards, fanked by coal
cars, shifting engine with a portable
pump and several fat cars loaded with
ice and water sided up to us, and put
aboard quantity Of pure elixir.
Once more the engine driver puts his
hand to the throttle, and away we
go-marching through Georgia on
wheels.
We arrived at Atlanta about 9
o'clock. Here the Pullman cars on
the end Of each section were cut off
and switched up to the union depot,
where the officers were provided with
supper. The trains took on fresh
supply of water and the soldiers a
supply of hard tack and coffee, the
latter not being served very promptly.
The poor fellows, up and at work since
3 o'clock, curled themselves upon the
seats and with their blanket rolls for
pillows dropped asleep. Each soldier
had seat, and two, by throwing their
seats together and ar angling the cush-
ions, could sleep on as good bed as
the people at home.
We awake with start. The dawn
of another day is at hand. We reach
out our hands to touch the sides of
our tents and our hands strike soft
cushions instead. Now we know
where we are, and that we were not
awakened by the reveille, but by lot
of big hearted people at small sta
tion where the engine gets water.
These people have peaches which they
are giving the boys. We have left
the magnificent plantations of North
Georgia behind, have passed Macon
hours ago, and are digging our way
through the pinelands Of south Geor-
gia. We arrive at a small station
where we get breakfast, this time
change Of dishes. 1t was hard tack
and coffee for supper; coffee and hard
tack fol breakfast. A wagon loaded
with melons was diyested of its con-
tents and the boys of their change.
What is that? A genuine palmetto
tree. Now a few more, until we are
soon well into the real Palmetto State.
Strange that we call ours the Pal
metto State, when really three-fourths
of our regiment never before saw a
tree indigenous to the soil. But there
is memory, glorious bit Of history
from which our proud State gets her
name. Fort Moultrie.
Is that the Atlantic Ocean? No,
the St. John River. Aliver? Who
ever saw river like that. Well,
Jacksonville must be near. The boys
begin to prepare for long hot march
across the hot sand. Soon we stop at
station where no house but the depot
is in sight. On the sign board we see
"Panama. Columbia 274 miles. Jack
sonville miles. Then we are shift
ed on to spur track, where, quar-
ter Of mile away, we are told to
disentrain. How far is it to the
camp?' is on our lips. but there is no
use to ask the question, for just few
hundred feet away we see our horses,
our wagons, our baggage, our miscra
bic little "A' tents and some of our
boys
All of the sections soon arrive. 1t
is about 4 p. m. and drizzling. Each
company is soon assigned a street and
the tents hastily erected No police
work is attempted, and the boys start
on a tour of exploration. The first