Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1862-03-27
Thursday Morning, March a., ls6'
LETTER FROM CAMP.

LETTER FROM CSAH!F.>
The Huntsville Advocate says
Mr. Squisgs' seccn& letter came
last week, .direeeediwa large bold
hand to. "Mt. Robert Dodsley
Smith,-esse of p NJ, Huntsville,
Ala. Please deliver immediately.
Mr.. Smith cannot be found-ha
has probably gone to the war.-
We publish it-assthe' most likely
way o. reaching him-
CAxP RosIN, Maroh.6, 1862.
Dear Bob. As youa haven't an
swered my letter, | suppose it has
Mt reached you; 50 | have seated
myself to write again.
Now look here--if you did get
it, aud have neglected. to- answer
lust because youwas today las
iabout half way beliew) FL never
forgive you. kwonderf you think
1 have nothing to. do but write
wouldn't. be writing now, if |
was doing my duty. There is my
DANCED old gun--I ought to be
rubbing it up this very minute.
It rusts if YOU look at it, and its a
good days work to clean it. Twas
run mad for a gun till / got one
a fool. l reckon I've wished q
thousand times since | never had
seen one. You have to 90 stalking
about the field al day, Juggling a
great long 81 FOUNDER; not the
good old way-that would he too
easy-but they make You hook one
finger in the lock, and tote it that
way-a most tiresQme outlandish
fashion. uardee invented it, be-
lieve, or the devil, l don't know
which. I'll tell you what's a fact
I've drilled that way till my
right arm is a foot longer than the
ether, and my forefinger hooks
around like claw-its so. I've
got used TO drilling with the things
now-wouldn't mind toting a can
non-but at first it give me han
kius. One hot day-twas cabbage
day too, and | was in no fix for
running-they made me left guide,
and it was "1nto line, face to the
rear!' and "Forward into line!'-
and here they had me charging
across the drill-ground for three
mortal hours, like the devilwas af
ter me. Once as / was pegging
along past the Major, I looked up
at him and there he set, astraddle
of Bob; fresh asa Californian Jes.
samine, watching me rs [ trotted
along, breathing sand and sweating
fosin; and / thought to myself
"Tve done something, and he's try
ing to kill me-" and 1 had a good
mind to drop right down there be.
fore him and have a fit-and ]
would have done it, but | was afraid
I might have one, sure enough.
had. the string halt for week.
and narrowly missed the SPAWN.
Pete says / was charging bayonets
all night, and shouldeling arms,
and legs too.
But he needn't talk about other
folks-he's the worst bed-fellow ]
ever saw-this same Peter G.
Jones. He has bad dreams, about
being married, and all that; and he
shuts himself mp, when he goes to
sleep, like q razor, and every now
and then he opens with a jerk, and
if you amt used to him, it's ten to
one he pitches You out of the bed,
His wife vial have q hard road to
travel. tHt
Then there's old Mullen Stork,
he's in our mess. and he saws
gourds all night; SO that what with
keeping one eye open, to watch
Pete when he opens, and one ear
open, to punch Mullen when be
SHORES, Its devilish little sleep / get.
The way they drill us now
bark from the tombs! We get up
at day-breek and drill; come back
and wash our faces 8sd drill again;
cook breakfast and drill till 10
o'clock; then we dig up stump,
and drill till dinner; then we strike
tents and move a hundred yards,
pitch tents, and drill till dress pa
rade; then we apply for furloughs|
to cook supper; after which, the
orderly drills usof in squadsto bed.
We eat our meals according to
SCOTS tactics. (See Art. XIV, en-
titled ga Hasty Plate of Soup.")
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