"The Water is Good Here"

Thursday, May 8, 1962, Milford Station, Virginia

It is such a pleasure to come back to Virginia. The regiment is settling into camp. We do not do a great deal of picket duty. We are engages in substancial drilling. We drill drill more than we ever did when in training at Camp Lightwood Knot Springs north of Columbia. We are now brigaded with two other South Carolina regiments, the Thirteenth and the Fourteenth. We must learn how to march and maneuver as a brigade and not just as a single regiment. Maxey Gregg is our brigadier general. He is a lawyer from Columbia, I have been told.

Some fifteen or so miles north of us is the Rappahannock River and the town of Fredericksburg. Somewhere on the other side of the river is supposed to be yet another great host of Yankees. I can only suppose that we are here to halt then should they cross the river to our side. McClellan and his great army is advancing up a peninsula between the James and York Rivers. His objective is the capture of our capital. That force opposing us here is drawing our own forces away from the defense of Richmond.

They do not know us. Even if we lose Richmond, as long as we have an army in the field, we will fight for our freedom. As long as a single Southern patriot remains, we will fight.

The weather is becoming warmer, a bit too warm for my comfort as I much prefer colder climes. Our rations are better than what we were fed back in coastal South Carolina. The quality of the fare is perhaps only slightly better. The quantity is measureably better. And the water. The water is good here. We do not have to concern ourselves with the incoming tides making our drinking water foul. It is cool and clean.

Not all of us Lancaster Hornets, the Company I boys were able to make the journey to this place. There were fevers that occured at the same time that the regiment was ordered to move to Virginia. From our own squad, Bill Caston was given to the medical officers. We have so very few tents to shelter us from the elements. We have been able to cut our way into the forests and bring forth materials to construct shelters known as shebangs. A shebang is comprised of two or four or as many upright poles as are thought necessary to  provide the desired protection. Cross poles are laid in a horizontal position, fastened to the uprights. At this point, any sort of covering is stretched across be it cloth, a poncho (and there are few of these to be spared), or, more commonly, branches arranged something along the lines of how the English thatch their homes. There will be several layers of covering material. This is cheap and easy to construct but requires continual vigilence as there will be leaks when it rains. As it is open on all sides, it is quite airy.

Our furniture, if that is a proper term to use here, is anything not nailed down , and those items whose original purpose has passed but we have managed to find a use for. Hardtack boxes can be converted into chairs and tables and even firewood if there are enough to spare. A nearby barn or outbuilding, no longer in use, or perhaps even still in use, is considered fair game for a midnight requisition.

We should not get very settled in as there are rumors that we will be marching somewhere soon.