lived in tents half buried in snow, often drilling in snow knee deep, with the mercury at or below zero, till February 18, 1862, at which date we dug ourselves out of several feet of snow and ice and took train for Boston.
About midnight we found ourselves in the Cradle of Liberty, where, it was supposed, we were to be rocked to sleep, but I don't remember to have seen a single sleeping soldier that night.
On the twentieth a battalion of the regiment (four companies) (Colonel Dow and Major Hesseltine) was marched to Long wharf and down between decks of the good steamship Mississippi, in which for many days and nights we were literally rocked to sleep.
(The six companies of the regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel Rust commanding, sailed from New York.) The next day our voyage began, and before it ended the boys experienced all the charms of life on the ocean wave, and a home on the rolling deep.
As we rolled and pitched on the passage to Fort Monroe, many a luckless soldier went skating d