Bird's Point, Mo., November 24, 1861.
Sabbath morning, 10
o'clock.
I'm in clover. I've got a great big “comfort,” weighs a ton,
that has been sent to my partner and myself from a young lady in Bloomington.
We've tramped so much since I received that pair of blankets from you, and we
never know when we start whether we're coming back here again or no, that being
unable to carry them I sold them. We have had considerable cold weather. Lots
of frost, and for the last two days it has been freezing all the time. We have
always slept perfectly warm and getting used to it by degrees.
I never hear anyone complain. Yesterday we made a furnace in
our tent that works admirably and now I wouldn't give a snap for any other
winter quarters. This furnace is a grand thing. It keeps our tent dry and
healthy and is as comfortable to me now as ever our house was. Don't trouble
yourself in the least about our underclothing. We all have more than we want
and can get any quantity at any time. Other clothing the same. We commenced
building log houses for winter quarters this morning. Theo Thornton and Clem
Wallace of our mess are up the river now cutting logs for them. We never drill
Sundays, but for anything else we have no Sunday. We have no chaplain in our
regiment. Our captain is religious but he is out now doing as much work as any
of the men. We can enjoy ourselves very well here this winter, but of course we
are very much disappointed in not getting into active service. I think that
when our gunboats get here we will at least be allowed a trial on Columbus, but
you know, and I know, that I don't know anything about it. We have had two
awful rains within a week as the ponds covered with ice on our parade ground
will testify. The first one caught six of our boys fifteen miles up the river
cutting logs for our huts. It wet them beautifully. In camp for some reason
they had doubled the pickets, strengthened the camp guard and ordered us to
sleep on our arms. I think they were troubled with the old scare again. About
10:30 while the storm was at its height heavy firing commenced all at once
right in the middle of the camp. What a time there was. Colonel Oglesby got his
signals ready, regiments formed in the rain and the devil was to pay generally.
It turned out that it was a green Iowa regiment that had just returned from
another unsuccessful chase after Jeff. ’Twas an awful trick and only the
greenest troops would have done it.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an
Illinois Soldier, p. 44-5
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