Did not write any yesterday. A man named Hinton died in our
tent at about two o'clock this morning, and his bunk is already filled by
another sick man. None die through neglect here; all is done that could
reasonably be expected. The pants with those buttons on to be taken North for a
little boy whose father died in Andersonville, were taken away from me when
first taken to the hospital. Have also lost nearly all the relics, pictures and
letters given me to take North. For a week or ten days could take care of
nothing. Winn took charge of the book that I am writing in now and Battese had
the other two books, and now they are all together safe in my charge. Wonder if
any one will ever have the patience or time to read it all? Not less than a
thousand pages of finely written crow tracks, and some places blurred and
unintelligable from being wet and damp. As I set up in my bunk my legs are just
fitted for hanging down over the side, and have not been straightened for three
or four months Rub the cords with an ointment furnished me by physician and can
see a change for the better. Legs are blue, red and shiny and in some places
the skin seems calloused to the bone
SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p.
103-4
No comments:
Post a Comment