Chapter XII.
A LETTER FROM THE FRONT.
“Halt! Who goes there?” My challenge cry,
It rings along the watchful line,
“Relief!” I hear a voice reply;
“Advance and give the countersign!”
Unknown.
Camp at Liberty Va., Dec.—1863.
You ask me about our daily life, and now, while “All is quiet upon the Potomac,” I will try to give you some idea of company B’s life in camp. Reveille is sounded at sunrise; our company falls into line, and the first sergeant calls the roll.
Each man then cooks his own breakfast, except when two or three tentmates agree to take turns. In my case, my tentmate does the cooking, and I get the wood and water. Our rations when in camp are generally hardtack, pork, salt, sugar, coffee, beans, potatoes, fresh meat, etc., but we do not draw all of these things at once; some days we will draw hardtack and pork, sugar and coffee; on other days, fresh meat, and potatoes.