Chattanooga, Friday, April 7. A very heavy rain fell all last night, accompanied with vivid lightning and heavy thunder, which scared our sentinel on the guns off his beat, piteously imploring the corporal in tears to relieve him if he had any sympathy for him, which is the cause of some merriment in camp this morning.
The forenoon spent in dividing horses to the different platoons. Afternoon they were assigned to the men. Our teams are composed of good horses, but the cannoneers’ horses are the leavings, and a very poor-looking set. We drew them by lot, and I drew a bony plug, not yet of age, I should judge. Corporal Parish has assigned me to No. 3 on the gun. My duty will be to “tend the vent.” I would rather have another number as it is a heavy responsibility in action.
