On the Old Camp Ground.
May 5. This morning we pitched our tents once more on Camp Oliver. This seems like home again. We shall now have little else than guard duty to perform, keep ourselves slicked up and do the town. This is what we call being on waiting orders, but as the colonel has not had a hack at us lately, I presume he will want to practice some new evolutions he has been studying up out of the tactics. At any rate, we shall not long remain idle.