John D. Billings, The history of the Tenth Massachusetts battery of light artillery in the war of the rebellion

[167] in the unmistakable staccato of our Captain, and we are on the move. We marched past Brandy Station, our depot of supplies, and crossing the railroad moved by rather slow stages over a flat country in a south-easterly direction. But now our labors begin. The roads, scarcely dry from two recent storms, soon give way under the constant streams of artillery and supply trains that are traversing them, so that they are in a most wretched condition. Teams are overhauled at intervals stuck fast in the mud, and these act as beacons, warning all who come after to give their anchorage a wide berth. Cannoneers are in unusually close attendance upon their pieces, and conscientious No. 8 men undergo an amount of strain, mental as well as physical, for which their extra dollar per month is a paltry remuneration.

We munched our hard-tack and raw salt pork this day with many a longing thought of home and roast turkey, yet with a keen relish which our exertions of the morning had begotten; but the afternoon had greater ones in store for us. The horses' patience as well as strength seemed to be giving out, from the frequent and severe strains to which they had been put, and now when a heavily laden caisson sinks more deeply than its wont they sullenly stop. Then ensues lusty shouting on the part of the chief of section and drivers, emulating his example, bellow forth their ‘gee-dap’ and use the lash without stint. Luckless cannoneers go down into the mire and contribute of their muscle to extricate the caisson from the wallow. Rails are sought to use as levers or throw before the wheels when a start has been made; but it all rests with those six horses. If they would only pull together how quickly the difficulty would be ended! But while one pair jumps