Norfolk, September 30, 1861.
You think I'm doing pretty well in the number of my letters,
don't you? I can afford to for you are the only correspondent I have. You
musn't be surprised if you don't get letters from me so regularly after this,
for if we start back in the country, as I expect we will, to intercept Price's
retreat if Fremont whips him, we may be away from mails and such like for some
time. If anything happens to me you will hear it just as quick as the news can
be taken to you.
Since my last we have had some more fun here. Our company
was out a few miles the other day to capture an old cuss we thought was
peddling news from our camp down to Columbus. He had skedaddled though before
we got to his house. We gobbled up all the loose plunder we could find lying
around, it wasn't much, and marched back. We had a mighty good time on picket a
few nights ago. It was confounded cold, bushwhackers or no bushwackers we
concluded to have a fire. A couple of the boys volunteered to go back to camp
for kettles and coffee, and we found lots of nice roasting ears in the field we
were camped in, and a kind of pumpkin that ate very well after a little roast
before the fire. Then there were splendid pawpaws, lots of nuts of all kinds
which a little fire made ripe, and we sat and cooked and ate all night. I can
eat, if necessary, 36 hours without intermission except for an occasional
drink, and I drink nearly a half gallon of coffee per day.
Last night the Pekin company in our regiment were on picket
and at 3 this morning they were attacked. Ten of them held their ground against
150 half-mounted and half-foot and finally made them scoot. It was a devilish
brave thing. The Rebels left one dead and one so badly wounded that he’ll die
to-night, and carried off two others dead and four badly wounded. A lot more
were scratched. But one of our men was wounded, and that a flesh wound in the
arm, that will hardly take him off duty. The firing roused us here in the camp
and we thought from the noise that the longed fight had come at last for
certain. I tell you it was funny when the long roll (we would not get out of
bed without the long roll for a thousand cannons these cold nights) to see the
boys scramble for shoes and accoutrements. There was some profanity. I have
just been to see a poor devil that has blown half of his head off this
afternoon to get rid of his troubles. A soldier. Don't know what he suicided
for. We are messed off now, 15 in a tent, each tent's inmates cooking and
eating by themselves.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an
Illinois Soldier, p. 33-4
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