September 7, 1917, First Lieutenant Lawrence B. Robbins was transferred from Battery C to the command of Battery E, and shortly afterwards commissioned captain.
Having no horses or guns, the regiment received plenty of foot drill, relieved by short periods of setting-up exercises, trigger-squeeze pistol practice and instruction in first aid to the wounded. The foot drill became hikes through Garden City and vicinity, then regimental reviews, and finally exhibited the accomplishment of the men in reviews by Secretary of War Baker and Major-General Mann.
Evenings, Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, and Sundays gave generous opportunity for sampling the varied diversions of New York City, and the hospitality of the residents of the neighboring towns of Long Island. And these pleasures were well sampled! The batteries of the 149th entertained the corresponding organizations of the 150th and 151st regiments on the evening of September 28, when Colonel Reilly's description of warfare in France furnished interesting instruction, and abundant refreshments caused general content and satisfaction. The following week, the 151st returned the compliment, with equal enjoyment.
October 2, an additional detail of men left for Newport News, where they joined the men who had left Fort Sheridan with the horses, at the remount station. About this time Lieutenant Packard, from the Plattsburg camp, was attached to Battery E.
Constant instruction in making packs and rolls hinted at leaving. Then the making of allotments and the taking out of war risk insurance, the packing of duffle bags, and the boxing of all Q. M. supplies made us ready for departure by the middle of the month, and waiting for orders to France.
The mounting flames of a bonfire cast a flickering red light down the battery street. Burning the whole night through, to consume boxes, refuse and abandoned material of various kinds, these ruddy illuminations in the quarters of the 149th Field Artillery, at Camp Mills, Long Island, were omens of unusual, and unpublished, happenings. The men of the regiment felt the nearness of these events, though they had been given no warning of them, and slept, fully clothed, with their packs still rolled as they had been at inspection the afternoon before. Covered only by their overcoats, the boys tossed uneasily on their canvas cots in the chilliness of the night. When one, awakened by the cold, ventured to approach the bonfire to warm himself, the voice of a sentry warned him away: "No one is allowed around the fire. Orders are for no unusual appearance or noise." And the chilly one would return to his tent, if not to slumber, muttering, "Tonight's the night, all right!"