We are getting right
down to business now. Have company drill and will soon drill with the whole
regiment together. To-day we practiced the double-quick, which is nothing more
than a run. The day was hot and these heavy clothes buttoned around us made us
sweat, and one man gave out. He fell down and several fell over him, stopping
the work long enough for us to catch breath. He was put under a tree, and by
the time we were through was able to walk back to camp. I went into the mill
to-day and asked for a job. The miller said he thought I had about all the job
I could attend to. That is the nearest approach to a joke I have heard from a
native. They are the dumbest set of people I ever met. At least they seem so to
me. The country is queer, too. There are no roads here. They are all turnpikes.
Many of the houses set so far back from the road, and shade trees are so
plenty, that they are not seen unless one goes on purpose. To the west and
south the country looks like a forest, but there are no forests here, only
scattering trees all over the fields and along the roads. The people are Dutch,
mostly, and the rest are negroes,—"Niggers" they are universally
called here. Money has another name, too. I bought a bundle of straw for a bed,
which I was told was a "fip" for a bundle. I tied up a bundle and was
then told it would be a "levy," all of which meant that if the man
bound it up it was a "fip" and if I bound it it would be a
"levy," which is two fips. I found out at last that a "fip"
was sixpence and a "levy" was a shilling. Two fellows got too much of
the sutler's whiskey to-day. They forged an order for it, and as a punishment
each had a placard pinned to his back, with the nature of his offense printed
in large letters, and were marched about the camp until sober.
SOURCE:
Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 27-8
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