4 p.m.
But finally everything was ready , the ammunition wagons , wagon train of stores , and a battery of little guns , about three pounders , had been added . I did n't like the battery . It seemed to me hard enough to kill our fellow citizens with revolver balls , without shooting them with cannon . At 4 p.m. the bugle sounded `` forward , '' and with the clanking of sabers , rattling of hoofs and wagons , we marched outside the picket line , past the cemetery where my deceased friends were buried , and were going towards the enemy . The chaplain and myself were riding behind the colonel , when the colonel asked the good man to ride up to a log that was beside the road , and make his horse put his forefeet upon it , as he did on the bar in the saloon . I felt sorry for the chaplain , and I rode up to the log , and had Jeff put his feet up on it . Then I rode back and saluted the colonel and told him it was I who had done the wicked things the chaplain was accused of , and I told him how the chaplain was using my coat , so I put on his , with the shoulder straps on , and all about it .