ANOTHER STORM.
Another great storm. The wind is blowing a gale and the sea
is dashing, foaming and threatening everything with destruction. The camps on
shore are flooded, the soldiers driven into the fort or up the island; more vessels
ashore and the fleet going to the devil. A great many of the men are beginning to
despond, and in fact the success of the expedition begins to look gloomy
enough. Nothing but hardship and disaster has attended us since we left
Fortress Monroe, and God only knows when it will end. Almost any other man but
Gen. Burnside would be ready to give it up as a failure; but he is everywhere
to be seen, looking cheerful and confident, and encouraging his men. He is a
man of indomitable energy, perseverance and courage. He knows no such word as
fail, and is bound to overcome all obstacles and dangers.
If the general, by the blessing of God, gets the expedition
out of this scrape, and is successful where he strikes, it will give him great
prestige, and he will be thought competent for any command. Our engine is slowly
working, helping the anchor cable, and Mr. Mulligan says if the other boats
will stick to their mudhooks an keep clear of us we shall ride it out all safe.
I really hope they will for I am tired of these cathead drills. I have always
had rather of a desire for a sea voyage, but I am willing to confess that that wish
is fully gratified. This being “rocked in the cradle of the deep" sounds all
very pretty in song and romance, but the romance is played out with me, and I
think the person who wrote the song,
“A Life on the Ocean
Wave,”
must have been a proper subject for a lunatic asylum.
SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the
25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 26
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