Something has
happened. Last night, just as we were settling down for the night, orders came
for a move. Dr. Andrus came round looking us over and ordered me to the
hospital, as well as several others. Where the regiment is going is a secret
from us yet. While the tents were coming down and packing up was going on, an
ambulance drove in and with others I did not know, I was carted to what I
understand is called "Stewart's Mansion Hospital." It is in the city,
and I think near the place of our first night's stay in Baltimore. I was
assigned a bed and for the first time since leaving home took off my clothes
for the night. It seemed so strange I was a long time getting sleepy.
I am in a large room
full of clean cots, each one with a man in it more or less sick. Not being as
bad off as many others, I have written some letters for myself and some for
others who wished me to do so. The room is warmed by two big stoves and if I
knew where the regiment was, I would be willing to put in the winter right
here. Nurses, men detailed for that purpose, are here just to wait on us and ladies
are coming and going nearly all the time. They bring us flowers and are just as
kind as they can be. I am up and dressed and have been out seeing the grounds
about the place. One building is called the dead house, and in it were two men
who died during the night. As none were missing from the room I was in, I judge
there are other rooms, and that the one I was in is for those who are not
really sick, but sickish. John Wooden of our company is probably the sickest
man in the ward. John Van Alstyne came in just at night to see how I came on.
Snow is falling and the natives call it very unusual weather for the time of
year.
SOURCE:
Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 57-8
