Vicksburg, Monday, Aug. 10. Took my team this morning and reported at roll call, having been off duty thirteen days. 10 A. M. Coulter Campbell died in the hospital, the first death of the season, a strong, healthy man. A burying party went over at 4 P. M. to consign his earthly remains to their last abode. His death had but little effect in camp, so estranged is the soldier's mind. But some hearts have been wounded and are bleeding that have been patiently waiting his return for many hours, never to be realized in this world.
Vicksburg, Tuesday, Aug. 11. Warm—yes, hot. Lay in camp with no excitement; notwithstanding I whiled the hours away without much trouble with plenty of papers and captured books to read.
Vicksburg, Wednesday, Aug. 12. Received mail. I got two letters from home bearing date of July 12th and August 2nd, the first being detained at Memphis. What a source of comfort these weekly messengers from home are to me. How anxiously I wait for the week to roll around so as to be the recipient.
1863 "Wild, Jovial Scuffle"
Vicksburg, Thursday, Aug. 13. Boys in good spirits, those of them that are blessed with health. At twilight they had a general gathering in our street, and held a wild, jovial scuffle of an hour, such as none but soldiers can partake in or enjoy. An eye witness would call it foolishness, but it is well that they spend it innocently rather than in some worse game. "It is all in three years" they say. Very true.