LXX
HAVE just got back from the Thirteenth Regiment, where I found not a single man I knew, so I got a good long tramp for nothing. Got a mosaic letter from sister Addie Friday, made up of contributions from half a dozen of her friends. Have just had a pocket tourniquet given me, a little instrument to stop the flow of blood from a wounded arm or leg. I don’t see how it could be of much use in stopping a bloody nose. Charlie Smiley has never been heard from and doubtless never will.
So far as quarters are concerned, we are mighty comfortably situated just now. We have folded up our pieces of shelter tent and in their place pitched a camp of old-fashioned army “Sibleys.” My tent-crew comprises seven good fellows. Each man has built himself a bunk, and still there is room to spare. The heavy tent-cloth keeps out the rain, so we have a perfectly dry nest. But there are persistent rumors that we will not remain here much longer.