We detrained at Charlestown, to find a bitter wind sweeping the city, and the sun completely hidden by a malicious blanket of clouds. We marched away, gloomily speculating on the length of time we should wait in this arctic weather. The fears of even the most pessimistic were justified for we halted on Brimmer Street, and it was four hours or more before we started along the line of march.

                The Red Cross gave us box lunches which absorbed our minds for a while, but, oh, how that wind swept up the street. Some few were fortunate enough to obtain liquid refreshments, and remained happily oblivious to the torments and tortures of the elements.

                Shortly after two o'clock the welcome order was given, and we started off, in platoon columns. The parade has been too widely described to make a detailed account necessary here. The Battery's experi ence was much like that of other units. As we couldn't hear the band, good marching was difficult. We were showered with cigars, cigarettes, etc., all along the line of march, and we nearly started a new casualty list when we were given a long stretch of double time on Commonwealth Avenue.

                Chilled and tired, we gratefully crept in through the hospitable doors of the Commonwealth Armory, the Battery's "Old Homestead," where we found cots, blankets, and comforters waiting for us in the small riding ring. Leave was granted until midnight and an indifferent guard posted at the doors, apparently to impart a military atmosphere to the scene, for no orders were issued in regard to the guard's duties.

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