ch you will soon see was not long. We left him on the field
at Shiloh.

4

The recruiting officer got us uniforms--or somebody did; and during the
nice weather--it was October when I enlisted--our company did some
drilling. We had no arms, but used shotguns, squirrel rifles, and even
sticks. Will Lockwood tried to drill us, but made a bad mess of it. Then
one day Buckner Gowdy, who had also enlisted, took charge of a squad of
men and in ten minutes showed that he knew more about drill than any one
else in the county. He had been educated at a military school
in Virginia.

All the skill in drill that we ever got, we owed to him. The sharp word
of command; the quick swing to the proper position; the snappy step;
everything that we knew more than a lot of yokels might be expected to
know, we got from Buck Gowdy. Magnus admitted it, even; but he turned
pale whenever he was in a squad under Gowdy's command. It was gall and
wormwood for me, and worse for him; but when it came to electing a
captain of our company, I voted for Gowdy, and under the same conditions
would do it again. It was better to have a real captain who was a
scoundrel, than a man who knew nothing but kept the Commandments. War
is hell in more than one respect. I felt that Gowdy would be more likely
to bring us safe out of any bad hole in which we might find ourselves,
than any one else. But I was glad, sometimes, when he was rawhiding us
into shape, that Magnus Thorkelson was drilling with a wooden gun. I
wondered how the new captain himself felt about this.

Governor Wade gave us a great entertainment at his farm just before we
marched--still without guns--to the railroad to take the cars for
Dubuque, where boats were supposed to be waiting to take us down the
river--if we could make it before navigation was closed by the ice. His
great barns were cleared out for tables, and the house was open, and
there were flags and transparencies expressing the heroism of those who
were willing to do anything to get us into the fight.

Everybody was there--except Judge Stone. I remember looking through the
open door at the great iron safe into which he had put the county
satchel--I am careful not to commit myself as to the money part of
it--and all the events of the previous visit came back through my mind;
but mainly how angry I had been with Virginia for being kissed by Bob
Wade. And Bob was there, too, all spick and span in his new lieutenant's
uniform with Kit