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Rh As evening came on, questioning of the officers was in order, and for an hour it would be, "Captain, when are we going into camp?" "I say, lieutenant! are we going to or to blank?" "Seen anything of our wagon?" "How long are we to stay here?"—"Where's the spring?" Sometimes these questions were meant simply to tease, but generally they betrayed anxiety of some sort, and a close observer would easily detect the seriousness of the man who asked after "our wagon," because he spoke feelingly as one who wanted his supper and was in doubt as to whether or not he would get it.

Many a poor fellow dropped in the road and breathed his last in the corner of a fence, with no one to hear his last fond mention of his loved ones. And many whose ambition it was to share every danger and discomfort with their comrades, overcome by the heat or worn out with disease, were compelled to leave the ranks, and while friend and brother marched to battle, drag their weak and staggering frames to the rear, perhaps to die, pitiably alone, in some hospital, and be buried as one more "Unknown."

An accomplished straggler could assume more misery, look more horribly emaciated, tell more dismal stories of distress, eat more and march further (to the rear), than any ten ordinary men. Most stragglers were real sufferers, but many of them were ingenious liars, energetic foragers, plunder hunters and gormandizers. Thousands who kept their place in ranks to the very end were equally as tired, as sick, as hungry and as hopeless as these scamps, but too proud to tell it or use it as a means of escape from hardship. 



, April 10, 1865.



I have the honor to report that on the night of the 1st of April, four regiments of my brigade, with intervals between the men varying from six to ten paces, were stretched along the works 