CHAPTER 1
Steve Glenn surveyed the jumble in the kitchen and concluded that “Babe” was getting a trifle eccentric.
Eyeing a tall stack of used plastic containers on a sideboard, he said, “Babe, you’ve got the finest collection of butter tubs I’ve ever seen. Early American, I’d say.”
Babe poured some more coffee. “Now don’t start picking on me. You’re supposed to humor us little old ladies. Anyway, thanks for the splendid job you did outside.”
“You’re neither little nor old. And don’t thank me until you’re sure the job merits the gratitude.” Steve had spent the previous afternoon and most of the morning installing a French drain, running perforated pipe in a trench from the back yard to a lower elevation in front, and covering it with crushed rock. This in an effort to save Babe’s flower gardens and shrubbery from a growing swampiness.
“Babe” was Steve’s favorite aunt, and he enjoyed the short jaunts from St. Louis to her home down the road in Jefferson City, Missouri. And he liked to play the role of handyman. But he had an idea there was more on her mind than a French drain when she called the other day.
Steve eyed “Babe’s” old tomcat, who returned Steve’s stare. “You know, I think “Scarface” is mellowing in his adult years. He actually came up and rubbed my leg a while ago. He doesn’t always honor people that way.”
“Yes, I noted that. ‘Scarface’ is a good judge of character.”
Steve laughed. “Try telling that to my ex-partner. Once I was Prince Charming, and now I’m a buddy of Scarface.”
“I’m really sorry you two broke up. Do you ever talk to her?”
“Oh, occasionally we talk. Pleasant conversations, actually. Kind of a “No hard feelings” sort of thing.”
“Babe” reached for the coffee carafe. “You’ve had your share of problems lately. Why’d they let you go at the ad agency?”
“Hey, quit worrying about me. My getting sacked couldn’t be helped. The law of supply and demand caught up with me the day we lost our big daddy account. An occupational hazard in the agency business.” He smiled. “Also, when it came time to shrink the payroll I’m sure my name appeared in bold face caps.”
“I wish you’d never left the newspaper business. Why don’t you go back to the paper in St. Louis? I sure miss not seeing your bylines any more.”
“Babe, that’s ancient history. Things have changed. But I’m not ruling out returning to the news side.”
Scarface seized this moment to issue a “Plurrt” and jump onto Steve’s lap. Steve stroked the old kitty and said, “Are you including Scarface in that family tree you’re working on?”
“Maybe I should. Then maybe you’d read it. Your interest in our family tree seems rather limited.
“I’ll be glad to read it when you finish it, but when will that be? I’ll bet you’ve got enough family stuff now to fill a phone book.”
“It’s pretty complete. We’ve gone back some generations, but there’s one missing link . That is, there’s one link that’s a total blank. Nothing known about your great grandfather, Gideon Glenn. Do you remember hearing about him?”
“Think he died in the Civil War, didn’t he?”
“That could be. Do you know much about the Civil War?”
“The North won, I believe.”
“That’s a start. It seems Gideon disappeared during the Civil War and was never heard from again. Fanny – that was Gideon’s wife – agonized over the uncertainty of the situation.”
“Fanny? Why would anyone saddle a daughter with a name like that?”
“Now Steve, that was a beautiful name in those days. It wasn’t used to describe a portion of one’s anatomy back then. Anyway, Fanny assumed that Gideon was killed. Well, she did at first, then began to have second thoughts. Did he survive the war but didn’t return?”
“That’s a strange thought,” Steve said. “Why wouldn’t he come home?”
“Well, some soldiers did just that. Sometimes after a bloody battle there were desertions. Some would decide they wanted no more of it, and they would slip away and head west. They didn’t have to go far to disappear off the map. And out west, nobody was looking for them.”
“I’d think it would take a desperate man to do that,” Steve said.
“Perhaps so. But there’s more. The story goes that there were marital problems prior to Gideon’s leaving. Your grandmother occasionally mentioned Gideon and the attempts by her mother to learn more. Nothing was ever turned up.”
“Huh. You’d think some government agency would have sent her a message of some sort,” Steve said. “I guess record keeping was a bit primitive in those days.”
“Well, maybe not. People are learning much more about their ancestors these days, and the libraries are bulging with information about the Civil War. And then there’s the Internet. That’s where you come in.”
“Wow! You’re asking me to find the mystery man? Sounds like looking for a needle in a haystack, and you don’t even know the location of the haystack. You don’t have any information at all? Where was he when the war broke out? Was he one of the New York Glenns?”
“Babe” went to a bookshelf and carefully pulled down a large Bible with a dilapidated brown cover that looked to be crumbling at the edges. “Gideon’s father was the one who came over from England and settled in upper New York.” Babe opened the cover to a page containing notations in ink, in a delicate script.
“Here’s all we have on Gideon,” she said. Steve read over her shoulder: “Gideon Glenn, born July 18, 1840, near Utica, N.Y. Married Fanny McIntosh March 27, 1858. Son, Judd, born September 16, 1859. Joined Fifth Oneida, August, 1862.”
CHAPTER 2
Steve shook hands with Jesse Savage in Jesse’s office on the Red Campus at the University of Missouri. He had called the history professor for an appointment before leaving Jefferson City, and was pleased by the enthusiastic reception he received. Of course, Dr. Savage had a flamboyant manner about him, and maybe everyone got a hearty greeting. On the other hand, maybe he actually remembered Steve.
In his college days, some years back, Steve had written a story about Dr. Savage for the campus newspaper. It dealt in part with the idiosyncracies of the professor, who wore knickers and pedaled around campus town on a bicycle, his long hair flowing behind him. And in the fall attracted attention leading snake dances at pep rallies on football weekends.
Steve had wondered how Dr. Savage would react when the story appeared. He needn’t have worried. Next time they crossed paths the professor was all smiles.
Dr, Savage tinkered with his pipe, which seemed to demand frequent attention. “So, you’re embarking on a search for a relative of Civil War days. You’ll enjoy that, although you may find it a bit frustrating from time to time. You’ll also find that the study of ancestry and family histories is approaching a national pastime these days. A large crowd is out there walking these same paths you’re about to explore.”
“Well, I’m a real tenderfoot on the path,” Steve said. “As I mentioned in the call, I’m trying to learn anything I can about my great grandfather, who disappeared from view during the Civil War.”
“Union or Confederate?”
“I don’t know, but I suppose Union. He lived in New York.”
“That could make the job easier. Records for Union troops are much more complete. Some Confederate records were lost during the war, and some were destroyed late in the war and right after the war. Of course, both sides have lost records. Courthouse fires, deterioration of documents, that sort of thing.”
Dr. Savage stoked his pipe. “Lived in New York. Any other information?”
“Just a note along with his birthdate that says he ‘joined the Fifth Oneida’. And it gave the time as August of 1862.”
“Do you know where in New York?”
“The note says he lived near Utica.”
“Aha. Okay. As you may know, Mr. Glenn, both sides consisted mainly of volunteer armies, with regiments as the backbone. These regiments you might say were home-made. Home-made and home-grown. Appeals were made for enlistments, and regiments were formed at the local level.
Dr. Savage went on. “Many regiments consisted of boys from one county. Boys and men. Close friends, many of them.”
“That’s an army? It sounds a little like a social club.”
“To begin with, it was amateurish for sure. But of necessity the soldiers in this conflict were quick learners. Very few career army men available. There were some state militia regiments, but most of them were ill equipped, and some had companies scattered around the state who had never even assembled for training as a regiment. You could say both sides were totally unprepared.”
“So they were setting up new regiments. Who trained these recruits?”
“It may seem strange today, but company and regimental officers were frequently elected by the soldiers. Sometimes they were appointed by the governor. Not a good way to run a railroad, I suppose. Under this system an officer was free to rise to his own level of incompetence. But officers who didn’t measure up, or couldn’t hold up under fire, they didn’t last long.”
Dr. Savage went to a sizable bookcase located behind his desk. “It was on-the-job training for the majority of officers. Of course, West Point graduates were in great demand, both North and South. It was a lucky brigade that was commanded by a West Pointer. He would be painfully aware of the inadequacies in leadership and would spend a lot of time instructing his officers down the line.”
Dr. Savage pulled down a reference book. “All right. You said he was from Utica, New York. That’s in Oneida County. Here’s what probably played out. The county was getting scads of enlistments, and as the number approached 1,000, another regiment was formed. Your ancestor, then, joined the fifth regiment formed in Oneida County. And for starters it was called ‘The Fifth Oneida.”
Returning to his desk, Dr. Savage said, “The Fifth Oneida. A good starting point, I would say, would be to find out the number that was ultimately assigned to that regiment.”
Steve glanced at his notes. “Does that mean I should plan on a trip to New York?”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea. But why not start the search at home?”
“Well, as I mentioned, we’ve found next to nothing about this man in our family files. He just disappeared from the scene.”
“No, I didn’t mean an internal search,” Dr. Savage said. “I meant tapping the vast resources that are out there waiting for you. You’re going to find an abundance of records related to the Civil War, and you can reach some of them from your desk. Just by clicking. Also, from your desk you can identify the sources that appear to have the most promise.
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Steve said.
“Pension records are a good place to start. A great source of information. Some pension records contain original letters, photographs, details about the soldier’s family and his occupation.”
The professor prepared his pipe for a fresh load. “Now, your ancestor didn’t apply for a pension if indeed he was lost in the war. But I’d look here first. Then, start searching military records. There are many sources you can tap – libraries, historical societies, state archives and the national archives, among others.”
“So, the archives in New York might be able to point me in the right direction?”
“Possibly. They may be able to put you in touch with the muster rolls for that state if you go to the archives in person. Or give you the procedure for requesting information if you write. I would caution you that patience is a virtue. People are busy. They get a lot of inquiries. And the records are of great value, of course. Ancient documents are often fragile, and sometimes they won’t allow you to view the original papers. In any event, no one is going to open the files and tell you to take your time. But the man in your search is in there somewhere.”
CHAPTER 3
Back home in suburban Kirkwood, Missouri, Steve lit up the screen and went to his favorite search engine. After a couple of Google clicks he typed into the search box the words, “Civil War Libraries.”
The Internet responded with hundreds of sources of information, from public libraries, historical societies, universities and state archives to local societies formed to perpetuate the memory of a certain regiment.
Steve singled out those sources appearing to have the most promise. All in New York. Among others, the New York Genealogical and Biographical Society, the New York State Archives and Records Administration, the New York State Historical Society and one that particularly caught his eye – the “Sons of Union Veterans of the Civil War, honoring the memory of more than 450,000 New Yorkers who answered our Nation’s call – 1861-1865.”
Steve targeted E-mail addresses with a request for information on Gideon Glenn, who joined the Fifth Oneida in August, 1862. He received one response, that according to their database, Gideon Glenn was a private in the 124th New York Volunteer Infantry. Success! (Perhaps.)
Steve fired off messages to his “New York list” requesting information on the 124th New York Volunteer Infantry. A response, finally. The 124th New York Volunteer Infantry, it seems, originated in Orange County, not Oneida. With 450,000 New Yorkers fighting for the Union, Steve guessed it was hardly a coincidence to be faced with two Gideon Glenns.
Looking for one man among 450,000 New Yorkers wasn’t easy. But he found a tiny consolation. Viewing one site he noted that “Over 75,000 Kentuckians fought for the Union.” But went on to say that this did not include an estimated 12,000 men who saw service with other Union forces, irregular units such as the self-styled “Home Guards.”
Then there were those fighting for the Confederacy, the actual number not known. Estimated between 30,000 and 40,000 Kentucky volunteers fighting for the South. Their service records, it was pointed out, were poorly kept and many of them lost or destroyed during the war. Steve decided he wouldn’t want to trade with someone searching for an ancestor from Kentucky, particularly if you didn’t know whether he fought for the Union or the Confederacy.
Surfing the various sources of information on the conflict, he became aware of an immense interest that the Civil War continued to generate, a fascination that seemed to be perpetuating itself. There were those like Steve, searching for a Civil war ancestor. And then add a sizable number of genuine history buffs. All combing books, pamphlets, diaries, memoirs, letters, maps, photographs, newspaper articles and files full of records.
Steve intensified his pursuit. More messages went out. He had high hopes that he would learn something from a library he had contacted in Utica, New York, the area in which Gideon Glenn was born. And located in the county where the “Fifth Oneida” originated.
As the search continued, Steve became hooked to the point where Civil War books had taken over his desk. The war, he noted, was a contradiction at every turn. Steve read that when Lincoln unveiled his Emancipation Proclamation there were riots. But the riots were in the North, not the South.
Emancipation and conscription didn’t mix. To complicate matters, in some slave states Union sentiment was strong. In the North there were many people who were sympathetic with the South’s cause. The state of Maryland, he read, stayed with the side of the Union only because the state legislature was prevented from convening to vote for secession.
Many men said they weren’t in the war to free the slaves. They were fighting to bring the South back into the Union. Still, it was apparent to Steve that slavery was the catalyst that kept the subject of secession at a boiling point. At first, Steve couldn’t understand why the two sides couldn’t have prevented this volatile, emotional, deadly conflict that wreaked such havoc on the land. But he came to suspect, as one writer observed, that at the time it was like “attempting to control a tornado.”
It was a costly dispute. The war lasted four years, cost hundreds of thousands of lives (estimated at more than 600,000), and wholesale destruction of property, and left a large section of the country (the South) in an atmosphere approaching the Dark Ages.
As the men started marching, the South, Steve figured, had an advantage from an emotional standpoint. They were fighting for their independence. And they were protecting their land from “the invaders.” They were “defending hearth and home.” That’s how they saw it. Southerners, inflamed by the spirit of secession, called it “The Second American Revolution.”
The North, Steve noted, had a huge advantage in manpower and manufacturing, plus a surplus of agricultural products, but the North also had one huge disadvantage. They had to do the invading.
While the mailers were failing to produce any useful responses, Steve decided to pursue the subject at a suburban library. Again he encountered a plentiful supply of subject matter, but most of it of a regional nature, with particular emphasis on a bloody engagement at Wilson’s Creek, near Springfield, in his home state of Missouri.
The Wilson’s Creek battle, described as the second major battle of the Civil War, was the result of an attempt by the Confederates to seize control of Missouri. This was a total surprise to Steve. He had focused on the campaigns of the Union’s Army of the Potomac and the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia. All of this action occurred in the states along or close to the East Coast.
That the Civil War had extended from the Atlantic Coast all the way to points well west of the Mississippi had escaped him. There was no mention of this in the textbooks, to his recollection. Reading further, Steve learned that Missouri ranked third only to Virginia and Tennessee for the largest number of military actions fought on its soil – a total of 1,162 encounters.
Back home, Steve returned to the internet for yet another of many searches. This time he typed into the search engine, “Oneida County, New York, Civil War History.” And this time he was rewarded. A web site appeared with a five-page document, titled, “History of Oneida County, New York, War of the Rebellion, 1861-1865.” All of a sudden his luck was getting better.
The report estimated that Oneida County had furnished 10,000 men for the Union army during the war. Most of them quite young, no doubt. Who was left behind?
The first regiment in the county was organized in Albany, and became the 14th Infantry Regiment, New York Volunteers. The men were mustered into service in May of 1861, to serve two years. Severe losses were suffered, particularly at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, and the regiment was mustered out in May of 1863.
The Second Oneida, organized in Elmira, became the 26th Infantry Regiment. Composed of many men from neighboring counties as well as Oneida, it also was an ill-fated regiment, suffering severe losses at Second Bull Run, Antietam and Fredericksburg, and was dissolved May 28, 1863.
The Third Oneida became the 97th Regiment, New York Volunteers and was known just as well as the “Conkling Rifles.” Organized in Boonville in Oneida County, the regiment appeared to have been everywhere, from Cedar Mountain to Appomattox Court-House and Lee’s Surrender. It was mustered out July 18, 1865.
The Fourth Oneida was organized in Rome and mustered in for three years in early August, 1862. And became designated the 117th Regiment. The regiment saw early action in South Carolina, including bombardment of Fort Sumter, now in the hands of the Confederates, was also involved in the siege of Cold Harbor, Virginia, and in its last major action participated in the capture of Wilmington, North Carolina, in February of 1865. The regiment was mustered out June 8, 1865.
And then Steve’s eye came to the Fifth Oneida, organized in Rome in August, 1862, under the command of Colonel Kenner Garrard and mustered into service October 10 of that year. Known as “Garrard’s Tigers,” it was designated the 146th Regiment, New York State Volunteers.
For a moment at least, the fog had lifted. With just a mouse click, Steve may have found his great-grandfather’s regiment. But how could he be sure? And what happened to him?
CHAPTER 4
Steve discovered several ways to get information from government military records. The trick, though, was getting it done now, not three months from now.
Armed with Gideon Glenn’s regimental number he was ready to go. The source of information on military service that loomed largest was the National Archives and Records Administration in Washington. Steve noted a regional office in Kansas City, Missouri, listed in the NARA web site that appeared on his screen. Just a hop across the state. But a quick phone call ruled that one out. The regional office did not have Civil War Service Records.
But he could get things started by filling out a “National Archives Order for Copies of Military Service Records,” NATF form 86, and sending it to NARA headquarters. And then forgetting about it for a while. Or, how about an NATF form 85, for a search of pension records, just in case Fanny Glenn had filed for a pension? A possibility. But he still wouldn’t have located Gideon.
There was one other possibility, he discovered – military service records in the New York State Archives in Albany. Their web site indicated they would “search Civil War Muster roll abstracts of New York state volunteers,” for a small fee. Just fill out a “War Service Records Search Request Form,” then sit back and wait.
Steve opted for all three, and ordered the forms. So now he was waiting for the forms to arrive so he could formally request a search. It was at about this point that Steve discovered he could have ordered the request forms online. That’s when he decided there had to be a better way. A flight to Washington and a visit to the NARA research room? An expensive trip, and possibly for nothing. He wondered what a decent hotel room was running today in the D.C. area.
Also, he didn’t look forward to taxing his skills as an amateur librarian. The military records on file would probably fill a battleship. It was his understanding every soldier’s record had been painstakingly noted on cards, one card for each regiment in which the soldier served. These “Compiled Military Service Records” weren’t all on microfilm, so they told him, and it took some patient navigating through the catalogs of records to reach the target.
That’s how he came to know Jessica. Well, he knew her voice, anyway. It started when he hit upon a section of the NARA web site entitled, “Hire a researcher.”
Out of the blue, Steve noted the phone number of a researcher near the top of the for-hire list, going by the name of “Ancestral Archives.” It was an Arlington, Virginia, address. The woman who answered said she and her partner were “swamped” at the moment, but she would gladly suggest someone – a part-time researcher.
The name was Jessica Brenner, and she was a co-ed at George Washington University. After a few phone attempts Steve reached her. She said she’d like to take on the job if Steve had any information that could help her. Steve told her about Gideon Glenn’s regiment.
“You sounded a little skeptical there, at first,” Steve said. “Can you find him for me?”
“Probably I can,” Jessica said. “You have something tangible. Some people, it turns out, don’t really know whether their ancestor was wearing blue or gray.”
“What sort of information do you usually turn up in these searches?” Steve wondered how much experience she had in this field.
“That depends. Military service records can be brief. If there’s a pension record on Gideon Glenn, that’s another matter. Interesting reading. You’ll sometimes find accounts of things that happened in the family, marriage certificates, family letters, records of births, things like that.”
George Washington University, Steve learned, was close to the action. Just four blocks from the White House, she had told him.
Steve was now playing the waiting game. After two days he called, and Jessica told him she had made it to the research room the afternoon before, but ran out of time before closing. She would try to get it done after classes tomorrow.
Another two days, and finally a phone call. She had found Gideon Glenn, and a copy of his military service record was on its way. Sorry, she could turn up no mention of a pension.
Steve watched the mailbox, and at last the envelope arrived from Jessica. Had he finally found his long-lost relation? He set aside the enclosed copies of records, mostly to do with “company muster rolls,” and read Jessica’s cryptic notation:
Gideon Glenn – 146th Regiment, New York Volunteers. Age 23 years.
Enlisted August 27, 1862, at Utica, to serve three years. Mustered in as
private, Co. F, October 10, 1862. Promoted corporal March 9, 1863.
Captured in action May 5, 1864, at the Wilderness, Va; no further record.
CHAPTER 5
Gideon Glenn had decided to enlist. He was 22 and in excellent physical condition, thanks in part to a life of considerable toil on the farm. He looked like a model recruit. Unlike some of the other recruits, he also had a wife and a young son.
It was late afternoon, August 27, 1862, in the village of Utica. Gideon was casting his eye at a poster outside the recruiting headquarters:
MEN OF ONEIDA COUNTY – THE UNION IS IN DANGER!
Able-bodied recruits 18 years of age or older are sought to
fill the ranks of the 146th New York State Volunteers,
to quell the rebellion and restore the Union!
Gideon guessed that the youngster in line directly in front of him had yet to celebrate his 16th birthday. But the recruiting committee, he suspected, would approve him if he could stand there and claim he was 18.
The war was in its 16th month now, and reality was setting in. Cooler heads had come to realize that Sherman was right when he predicted that it would be a very long and costly war. And no longer were they looking for patriots to serve for three months. Now, the enlistment term was three years.
Still, there was a circus-like atmosphere in the village. Business was suspended at 4 every afternoon, and bells rung to announce that the recruiting drive was under way. Newspapers published stirring appeals. Banners urged men to come to the aid of the Union. Bonfires, torchlight processions, brass bands and speakers, usually associated with political campaigns, stirred sparks of patriotism in the folks.
Just a week earlier 1,000 men of 1100 volunteers in the Fourth Oneida had been mustered in to the county’s fourth regiment, the 117th New York Volunteers. The other 100 would form the start of the new regiment, the 146th. The county’s military committee was offering a “special bounty” to each volunteer, this on top of the $50 state bounty, but it appeared no inducement was necessary. Shopkeepers, blacksmiths, harness makers, teachers, preachers, stable hands and farmers were among those willing, if not eager, to answer the call.
Gideon was told to report at Camp Huntington in nearby Rome just as soon as he could get there. He bade his wife, Fanny, and son, Judd, goodbye, with the assurance that he wouldn’t be gone long. He really wasn’t sure of that, but thought the odds good that the North might overwhelm the South in the not-too-distant future.
In the meantime, Gideon guessed army life might be a welcome relief from their hardscrabble existence on the farm he had taken over from his father-in-law. Not a great distance from the Adirondack Mountains, the acreage was distressingly rocky and much of it subject to erosion. The past crop year had been a disaster, starting with spring floods that delayed planting in a season that couldn’t afford delays. And the current year promised little improvement.
Fanny’s aging father, too ill to work the fields, was still available to pass judgment when things went wrong, and it seemed to Gideon that his negative attitude was rubbing off on Fanny. Gideon had a plan. After the war he would pack up their possessions, and he and Fanny and Judd would head for the state of Iowa. There he would claim 160 acres as a homesteader, and they could start anew. He had heard that the land there promised abundant yields, and remained fertile. And the homesteaders in Iowa had “just scratched the surface,” so he had heard.
Gideon had plenty of time to think things out, in his brief stay at Camp Huntington. Drilling and parading were the main activities, and this effort was much hampered by the fact that there were only enough guns for use on guard duty. And the regiment’s commanding officer, a Colonel Garrard, from West Point, had yet to arrive.
But things changed in early October, shortly after the regiment was officially “mustered in.” The men responded to the order to “fall in,” and strapped on their make-shift knapsacks. Along with the others, Gideon carried a haversack which he had stuffed with a fresh supply of ham and bread, intended to last for three days. They marched to cars, 25 in all, at the train station.
In Albany, Gideon marched with the men to another rail line, the Hudson River Railroad, enroute to New York City. It was nighttime, and sleeping was difficult. Some men found it easier to sleep on the floor than in the rock-hard seats. The next day, in New York, they marched from the rail terminal to the docks, where they boarded two steamers bound for South Amboy, New Jersey. On the open water, Gideon gazed in awe at the magnificent scene – the two rivers flowing on either side of Manhattan, with the city of Brooklyn, the tree-clad hills of Long Island and the Palisades of New Jersey in the distance.
On shore, they went by train to Philadelphia. There they were invited to breakfast at a place called the “Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon,” big enough to serve an entire regiment at a time. With lady volunteers serving, the hearty meal was a gift from the city of Philadelphia, a service available to all regiments passing through on their way to Washington. Gideon suspected it was a meal to remember.
From Philadelphia, the men were sent by rail to Baltimore, and then on to Washington, DC. The morning they arrived in the Capital City they marched along Pennsylvania Avenue, past the Treasury Building and across a bridge and down a road to Arlington Heights, Virginia.
Along the road they saw thousands of cattle, sheep and hogs, closely guarded by men in the commissary department. Ambulance wagons passed the marchers, carrying soldiers to hospitals in Washington. Gideon realized that the regiment was no longer just a group of men involved in drilling, marching and guard duty. Now they were about to find out what it was like to be a part of the Union Army.