Still in Blackshear, and quiet. Many incidents happened when
I was out in the wood, and I am just crazy to get there once more. Look at the
tall trees in sight, and could hug them. My long sickness and the terrible
place in which I was confined so long, and my recovering health, and the hope
now of getting entirely well and recovering my liberty, has made a new man of
me — a new lease of life, as it were. The Bucks are the best of fellows, and
having money which they use for my benefit the same as their own, we get along
swimmingly. One of these days my Northern friends and relatives will hear from
me. Am getting over my lameness, and have an appetite for more than my supply
of food. Certainly had a good constitution to stand all that has been passed
through, during which time thousands and thousands died, of apparently better
health than myself. Of all my many messmates and friends in prison, have lost
track of them all; some died, in fact nearly all, and the balance scattered,
the Lord only knows where. What stories we can talk over when we meet at the
North. This Blackshear country is rather a nice section. Warm and pleasant,
although rather low. Don't know where we are located, but must be not far from
the coast.
SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p.
134
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