May 3, 1864

Letter from Chauncey Herbert Cooke, May 3, 1864
Dear Mother: --

I think I sent you my last from this place. I am taking this from some scrawls in my note book. I got a letter from home this morning while waiting for orders to march. Am truly glad to hear that you are out of debt at last. It used to trouble me when I went in the field to hoe corn to think that you was in debt. It made my hoe feel heavy. We are on the march again thru pine forests and over mountains enroute for Chattanooga. Troops are coming in and swelling our force from all directions. We are passed every little while by cavalry on good feeling horses, prancing along, and by four and six gun batteries, eight big horses to each gun, the cannoneers laughing and talking as they pound along in the cassions. The cannon eers have a snap on the road and to-day as I limped along with a blistered foot, I wished I could trade places with one of them. But I would rather be in the ranks when the tug of war begins. When it comes long range shooting the boys that man the big guns catch it first. I guess I am satisfied where I am. There is talk that the Johnnies are bound to give us a fight at Chattanooga. We have had a long tedious march to-day over mountains and thru valleys that were pretty and green and wading creeks over shoe top that didn't really help our sore feet. The streams here are clear and cool and come from springs. No danger of fever from drinking Alabama spring water.

Marched 23 miles to-day. My feet are not so sore as yesterday. Many of the boys are badly crippled and will have to take the ambulance tomorrow. I am glad I ain't one of them. Some of them are shamming and it puts every honest soldier that complains under suspicion.

Not many minutes after coming into camp every fence and movable thing in sight is pulled down to make the fires. God pity this south land when we are done with it.

May 4th. Struck camp, not tents, this morning, for we had none. The sky all spangled with stars was our only covering last night. I lay with my face to the north and for a long time looking at the only thing I knew -- the north star and the big dipper. It seems lower down than in Wisconsin.

At Woodville, 8 miles distant, we took the train for Chatanooga. Our cars were cattle cars. Some of the boys said g -- d -- the cattle cars, and some said God be praised for even cattle cars. At 9 p. m. we got under way for Chattanooga. Rushing thru the mountains, rumbling over rivers and gorges that made ones head swim to look down. Some of the tressels were fearful high.

May 5th
Woke up this morning just as the train crossed Tennessee river. I must have been jolted round a good deal as I found myself in the corner of the car some four feet from where I lay down. I was awakened by a lot of the boys singing "When Johnny Comes Marching Home." Max Brill and a company K man who had somehow got into our car, was leading the band. Max made the noise and the Co. K man made the music.

Arrived in sight of Chattanooga at 11 a. m. The level plain far as I can see is litterly covered with troops. Nothing but tents, tents, tents, by the ten thousand. Music by hundreds
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of bands is floating and humming in the air. 160 thousand rations were issued this morning to this vast army.

And this was before our division of ten thousand men came in. Got off the cars, cooked our dinner and lay round on our blanket watching the steady tramp of columns going and coming until 6 o'clock. We were suddenly ordered into ranks and marched out 5 miles and camped for the night at the base of Missionary Ridge, where our brave comrades made that heroic charge in 1863. Lookout Mountain, whose summit is swathed in a blue cloud, is about 4 miles distant from our encampment and about the same from Chattanooga.

May 6th
It was late before we slept last night. There was a constant clatter of cavalry passing, of carbines and swords jangling and of the pounding of gun carriages, over the big rocks that make these roads a terror. The boys think we are close to a fight and there ain't much loud talk. The mail carrier is coming to gather the letters, good bye. Will write again soon. Direct by way of Chattanooga.

Your boy,

CHAUNCEY.

P. S. Direct to 16th Army Corps. via Chatanooga.