After the ranks broke I went to the Captain.  He smiled at my approach.  “You deserved it, Jones; at least I think so.  I don’t know the other men, and I do know you.”

I stammered some reply, thanking him for his goodness toward me, and started to go away.

“Wait,” said he, “I want to talk to you.  Do you know the men of the company?”

“No, sir; only a few of them; but the few I know know the others and say they are good men.”

“No doubt they have been well proved in the line,” said he; “but you know that Company C and Company H have thus far had to do almost all the skirmishing for the regiment, and we have only four or five men in the battalion out of those companies.  It is one thing, to be a good soldier in the line and another thing to be a good skirmisher.”

“I suppose so, Captain,” said I; “but it seems to me that anybody would prefer being in the battalion.”

“No, not anybody,” said the Captain; “it shows some independence of mind to prefer it.  A man willing to lean on others will not like the battalion.  Our duties will be somewhat different for the future.  The men get their rations and their pay through their original companies, but are no longer attached to them otherwise.  On the march and in battle they will serve as a distinct command, and will be exposed to many dangers that the line of battle will escape, though the danger, on the whole, will be lessened, I dare say, especially for alert men who know how to seize every advantage.  But the most of the men have not been trained for such service.  As a body, we have had no training at all.  We must begin at once, and I expect you to hold up your end of Company A.”

“I will do my best, Captain,” said I.

“Come to my quarters to-night,” said he; “I want you to do some writing for me.”

That night a programme of drill exercises for the battalion was prepared, and day after day thereafter it was put into practice.  We drilled and drilled; company drill as skirmishers; battalion drill as skirmishers; estimating distances; target firing, and all of it.

Early in June Hill’s corps alone was holding the line at Fredericksburg.  Ewell and Longstreet had marched away toward the Shenandoah Valley, and onward upon the road that ends at Cemetery Hill.  The Federals again crossed the Rappahannock, but in small bodies.  Their army was on the Falmouth Hills beyond the river.

On the 6th the battalion was ordered to the front.  We took our places—­five steps apart—­in a road running down the river.  On either side of the road was a dry ditch with a bank of earth thrown up, and with trees growing upon the bank, so that the road was a fine shaded avenue.  In front, and on our side of the river, was a Federal skirmish-line—­five hundred yards from us.