f July,
which at present looks very probable. Camp looks forlorn and
disorganized, everything upside down, boxes being made to be carried by
express, knapsacks packed as though there was no time to do it
to-morrow, but nobody notices it. All of the reserve are under home
orders to-day. Fortune smiled on us this time in being first; aye, it
laughed outright upon us. But, dear Journal, I cannot write, I feel too
_good_.

[Illustration: The Development of a Soldier
Jenkin Lloyd Jones
Enlisted Aug. 14, 1862
At Memphis 1863
Mustered out July 18, 1865]

[Sidenote: 1865 Going Home]

Chattanooga, Wednesday, June 28. It is evening and the great work of
turning over is accomplished in spite of lazy quartermaster. Through the
unceasing efforts of our officers we are here on the depot platform
ready to take the 4 A. M. train for "Home, Sweet Home." Left our old
camp at 6 P. M. in high glee, and departed with hearty demonstrations
for the Old Guard House where we all suffered from military agony.
Captain Nicklin, inspector general, who has often been abused and
everybody else received his portion of "big injun tigers", etc. But I
must go to sleep.

Chattanooga, Thursday, June 29. Aroused from our out-of-doors slumbers
by the familiar notes of the old bugle at 3 A. M. Washed, and got
aboard, and started 4 A. M. exactly. Ran very quietly and on time to
Decherd, Tenn., which we reached by 12 M. Here we changed engines. Took
an engineer unscrupulous and drunk, who ran the train at a dangerous
rate between stations, then stopping for time and getting more whiskey.
At times we traveled at the rate of thirty-five miles to the hour over a
very poor track, in spite of the remonstrance of our officer. The
conductor persisted in allowing him to draw us through.

[Sidenote: 1865 A Final Tragedy]

Stopped to wood up. Many of the boys got off to pick blackberries which
were very plenty. At the instant the signal was given to start, the
drunken brute threw full power on the engine starting up with great
suddenness, and we were soon under full headway. Poor Frank King was on
the ladder between the cars, and he lost his hold and fell on the rails,
the forward trucks of the car I was on, passing over his lower
extremities. The shuddering cries of the wounded man pierced the ears of
all on board, and one and all strove to stop the train, but the engineer
instead increased his power. Not until the boys locked the brakes so
tight