150 Years Ago (1864 7/5)

July 5th. Still in camp. Alvin Stokes came over to see me last evening. Had quite a visit from him. Shall try and see Zopher today if I can find the third, but the different divisions and brigades are moving to get good places for shade and water. Should like to see David Morse and Zopher before I finish this, but it will make it too late to get the letter off today. You asked me if I had a rubber blanket. I bought a light one in Washington and some other things. Have no woolen blanket. Could not carry it if I had. Want to keep as light a knapsack as possible. Have to keep four days rations on hand all the time, and that is no small load. Some throw the rations away and get short, but had rather sweat some more and have enough to eat. On these marches there are some that calculate on pilfering, but you will never hear of my digging potatoes, or taking chickens or meal and flour from the mouths of women and children, until I am starved to it, and there is no prospect of any such thing at present.

You perhaps, wonder that I give no more news about that the army is doing. All I know is what I can learn from the papers, and you can get them before we can here. There is firing enough over towards Petersburgh, particularly nights. Last night there was heavy musketry, it is so nearly every night. This morning the guns are very heavy. There is an average of about three to every line I write, and that will do pretty well. It is a continual booming. Petersburgh has got to fall. If Butler had been a Grant Petersburgh would have fallen long ago, but as it is now, the fate of Richmond hangs upon Petersburgh. You will see by the papers that all the rail roads are cut. It is our business to keep them cut.

I must write a word to the children, tell them to be good and mind you in everything you say to them, use no bad words, for it would make me feel very bad to hear that they did not want to mind their mother in everything, for I shall come home by and by and want to find they have been good all the time. Tell them I think of them all the time, and want to think they are always good. It would make me feel very bad to think they were not always good. Tell them when you write again that I want each one of them to tell you how it is so that you can write to me. How much I want to come home and see you all. The heart alone can tell. Words cannot express, but I am not homesick. There are some of our boys from Brattleboro that are woe begone creatures. They are so homesick. I believe a man will die with homesickness, certainly they will get lousy, and it takes considerable care to keep the creatures down. I skirmish my shirt for the rascals every day. If I find a nit, hunt until I find the depositor. I have never found but two upon me at any one time. There are some men who take no care of themselves, and they will keep the camp stocked. It is those homesick fellows. You probably think I have got pretty well exhausted for subjects, but this last one is a very important one here. Let me hear from you as often as you can. Tell Mary Ann to write me. I believe I owe her a letter. I would write to her, but it takes all the time I got to write to you, and this is the first letter I have written with my equipments off and this was commenced with them on.

Your own,

Charles.

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