It was a long, inexpressibly dreary day’s work, and though undertaken cheerfully and with less complaining than would have been believed possible, the drudgery of it was a thing not easily forgotten.  Before the day had ended, all hope of getting ashore was lost, for we were told that no liberty would be given.

The following day and half of our stay in New York harbor was spent in the same way—­shovelling, lifting, and carrying coal.  The eyes of many of us were gladdened by the sight of friends and relatives, who were allowed aboard when mess gear was piped, and put off when “turn to” sounded.  We were pleased to see our friends, but our friends, on the contrary, seemed shocked to see us.  One dainty girl came aboard, and, as she came up the gangway, asked for a forecastle man.  The word was passed for him.  He had just finished his stint of coaling, and was as black as a negro.  In his haste to see his sister, he neglected to clean up, and appeared before her in his coal heaver’s make-up.

“You, Will?  I won’t believe it!  I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!” And for a second she covered her face with her hands.  Then she picked out the cleanest spot on his grimy countenance and kissed him there, while we looked on in envy.

The “Yankee” at last receiving orders to sail for the front, left Tompkinsville May 29th.  We passed out of the Narrows with a feeling of relief.  The work we had just finished was the hardest we had ever experienced.  It was particularly tantalizing because we were almost in sight of our homes, but could not visit them.  A starving man suffers more from hunger if pleasant food is placed within sight, but beyond his reach.

However, we were to go to the front at last, and we rejoiced at the prospect of being really useful to our country.

The following day, Decoration Day, dawned pleasantly, both wind and weather being all that could be desired.

Directly after dinner we were sent to quarters for target practice.  The target was dropped astern, and the ship steamed ahead to the required distance.  Word was given to the marines manning the six-pounders to prove their skill.

The port forecastle six-pounder, using a shell containing cordite, a powerful English explosive, was in charge of a marine corporal named J.J.  Murray, who acted as captain of the gun.  After firing several rounds with marked success, Murray saw that the gun was loaded for another trial.

Standing at the breech, he steadied the gun with his left arm and shoulder, seized the pistol-grip, placed his finger on the trigger, and then slowly and carefully brought the target within the sighting line in readiness to fire.

The other members of the gun’s crew were at their proper stations.  Numbers 2 and 3, respectively second captain and first loader and shellman, were directly behind the corporal.  They saw him steady the piece again, take another careful aim, then noted that his finger gave a quick tug at the trigger.