My tentmate Damon is on furlough. He was not in condition for duty, having strained his back, so they gave him a furlough of thirty days. His time is about half up, and we do miss the boy. Frank Robinson has got back, looking pleasant and happy, as a newly-married man should.
CAMP BEAUFORT, CHARLES CO., MD., _Feb. 9, 1862_.
For a day or two I have been laid up with a bad cut on my foot, which I got chopping wood for my tent. I can not get a boot or a shoe on, but hope it won’t bother me a great while. I guess—in fact almost know—that we are to leave here soon. Gen. Hooker has been to Washington to confer with the commanding General. Rahn, our Commissary Sergeant, thinks we are going on an expedition to Galveston, Texas. Wouldn’t we have a time down there among those Spaniards, Greasers, Negroes, and those perfectly _awful_ Texas Rangers!
Damon has not got back yet. We have a letter from him saying he was at Lunenburg, Vt., laid up with a lame leg.
We have been rigged out with new uniforms. Dark blue dress coats with light blue cord trimmings, and light blue pants.
CAMP BEAUFORT, CHARLES CO., MD., _Feb. 16, 1862_.
Of course you have rejoiced over Burnsides’ victory at Roanoke Island and the success of the Kentucky army at Fort Henry. If we can keep on with the good work, this rebellion will be crushed and we home again before long. We are under orders to be ready to march at short notice and will soon be doing our share of the business. A Vermont brigade is expected here, any day, to reinforce us; and some big guns are being brought down from Washington, probably to be used in shelling the rebel batteries. The gunboats have not had their full armament until lately.
That foot of mine, that I was fool enough to cut over a week ago, is a beauty now. I got cold in it, or something, and it now looks more like a parboiled pig than a foot. If we get orders to march right now, I shall have the foot swathed up in some way and go with the regiment.
Slade is sorting over his stuff, to see what he shall send home. He actually has more than he can lift.
A few days ago there came an order to find out how many men in this division wanted to go on the Mississippi river gunboat flotilla. They proposed to transfer forty out of each regiment, and I suppose the idea was that they would find lots of sailors in the regiments from the coast. The order was quickly rescinded, however.