Читать книгу A Minor War History Compiled from a Soldier Boy's Letters to "the Girl I Left Behind Me": 1861-1864 - Martin A. Haynes - Страница 3
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Camp Union, Concord, April 28, 1861.
IF you could look in on this scene you would rate it as about as good a comedy as we ever took in at Bidwell and Marston’s. I am writing on a rough board table, and right opposite me the fellow who has set up as company barber is skinning a poor victim alive. I don’t think he is much of a barber, and from the spasmodic and at times profane remarks of the patriot he is practicing on, I gather that I am not alone in that opinion.
I have been very busy this week and have hardly had time to write the letters I promised Farnsworth for the American. But I am going to give you a little idea of the routine of camp life. We are in camp on the Merrimack County fair grounds, across the river from the city. Our barracks are rough board buildings with ample ventilation through a thousand cracks. One continuous bunk, bedded with straw, extends along one side. Into this we tumble at night, wrapped in our thick army blankets, warm and cozy, and go to sleep after about so much laughing and joking and blackguarding.
The drum beats to marshal us to our meals, and each company falls into line, single file. At the command we march around by the commissary’s stand, each man, as he passes, helping himself to plate and dipper with rations upon them. I have seen richer food and a more comprehensive bill of fare, but it is all right and there is plenty of it: fish hash (and I always did like fish hash,) bread (white and brown,) pickles, coffee. No butter, no condiments. But the whole outfit seems to agree with me, and I never was in better health and spirits in my life.
There are now about 550 men here in camp—over 240 from Manchester. It is a rattling jolly crowd, and there is something doing about all the time. At night we gather around the campfires and amuse ourselves with songs and stories and badinage until nine o’clock, when “Tattoo” sounds and we tumble into our bunk. As many as are needed are detailed each night to stand guard. I have had one round at it—routed out of my warm nest at one o’clock in the morning and posted at the main gate of the camp. It was very cold, and every star was out with a broad grin on as I paraded up and down with a ten-pound musket on my shoulder.
I shall try to get leave to run down to Manchester Saturday and stop over Sunday. I want to “see my sister.”
We have not got our uniforms yet. We all expected to have them by the last of the week, so hardly anybody brought any change of clothing. I borrowed a collar of Cochrane [W. H. D.] until I could send home for wardrobe supplies. We have got to go to church at Concord this afternoon, in a body.
There are lots of Manchester folks here today, and I have to stop every minute and shake hands with some friend who comes along. Kelley’s [Capt. John L.] recruits came up yesterday. I met them as I was going to the city. Jim Atherton was among them. He brought me lots of things from my friends—pastry from mother, a mince pie from Mrs. Currier, a pin cushion from Augusta Currier, and a great big sugar heart from Mrs. Logue, bless her dear old Irish soul.
Address, Camp Union, Company A, Concord, N. H.
