"Our women dip snuff and spit..."

Monday, June 23, 1862, in the swamp

The activity  in the lines has increased of late. Two days ago, there was a good deal of skirmishing along the Chickahominy but it did not involve us. At that same time, there had to have been a battle somewhere near Fair Oaks as the noise was too loud for simple skirmishing. It is the usual expenditure of shot and shell.

We have received some reinforcements at last. I suppose the prospect of seeing some action has convinced some still at home to enlist to defend the cause. Our regiment had received some, how many I know not. Our own Company I has increased by some few more and our own squad has four new members. A father and son, William Barton, Sr, and Jr. are with us as are Samuel Lynn and William Adkins. They look good but it is too soon to tell of what metal they are made. All are farmers and Barton, Sr. is only slightly younger than myself. It will be good to talk to someone who knows something.

As long as it is quiet, or at least comparitively so, it would be a good idea if I were to list the members of our squad for the sake of the record and my poor memory.

In addition to both Bill Bartons, and Lynn and Adkins, we have our Corporal Joseph Flynn, whose name suggests an Irish bent. There is Burrell Hancock, William Terry, Dennis Castles, Thomas Duncan, John Holton, Wilson and Troy Crenshaw, John White, William Johnson, Jefferson Mathis, Sterling or Starling Carter, Isaac Vincent, Richard Lyles, Andrew Conners and myself, David Tooms. This is our squad.

There are others, not part of our squad but serving in our Company I, the Lancaster Hornets, or higher up at the regimental level. J. Marion Bruce is our sergeant but he is not in our squad as he commands two squads. James Williamson is our lieutenant and he has four squads. Our captain is N. Vanlandingham, our colonel is Dixon Barnes who assumed command with the resignation of Dunovant. The regimental major is McCorkle.
We have formed ourselves, for the purpose of cooking our issued victuals, into messes of six or eight each with a splendid name that is much bragg or silliness. My mess is called "The Dandy Eights", just because there are eight of us.

The Dandy Eights are Duncan, Hancock, Castles, the Bill Bartons, Crenshaw, Holton and myself. The other two messes are named "The Ritz", and , "Possum Brothers Mess". Flynn comes around to see and "share" in out repasts even then he can eat with the other non-commissioned officers.

Because I have seen service in the war against the Mexicans, the other members of the squad keep asking me questions about that service, seeking to gain some tidbit of knowledge that might be of use to them. I have told them more than once that the Virginia Regiment arrived too late to see any action but they ask anyway. I tell them to keep a full canteen and always carry spare stockings.

I do have stories that I tell them around the campfire that are more interesting than useful. Speaking of campfire, Duncan ruined his shoes by getting them wet and trying to dry them out by putting them in close proximity to the fire. He is now barefoot and the quartermaster has no replacements. He receives little sympathy from us.

I never kept a diary while I was in Mexico. I was young and thought that there was no need to commit anything to paper. Now, years later, I have trouble recalling details and times of certain instances. I do remember that the only times I ever shot my musket, it was for food or sport.

There was one time that I spotted a very strange bird that seemed to prefer running to flight. I fired at it and missed as did everyone else. Later, I found out that it was a very fast bird called a road-runner. Did that happen near Buenea Vista or Monterrey? I cannot remember anymore.

The feasting was very good. It was my first encounter with freeholys and tortias which were delicioso. The senyouritas that served them could make anyone's head turn. They had a habit of smoking little cigars that our women at home would never do. Our women dip snuff and spit but they would never smoke little cigars. Their maidens were tanned whereas ours were pastely like this paper. We learned very quickly that no matter how comely they were, never get them angry. One would have better luck fighting a wild hog.

For awhile, the regiment was stationed around Saltillo as our colonel, Hamtramck was the appointed military governor for awhile in '48. Our major was Jubal Early who had a talent for salty language. I hear he commands a regiment or brigade in this army.

We engaged in several fights with the South Carolinians. Many a chair was smashed in the cantinas and there was much glass broken. It was a great escapade even though we never were pitted against the Mexican Army. There were some instances when we got into fisticuffical brawls with the Mexicans but that was dangerous as they were well expert in the use of a knife. One might find one's ears removed and fastened to the cantina wall with a horseshoe nail. Much of the trouble  caused there was due to boredom, bluff and braggidocio not to mention their local aguardienty.

That is all past. In these more modern times, we are faced with a challenge to our existance that we must meet successfully if we are to earn our freedom. The Yankees are a mere cannon shot from here. Every so often, they send us one of their iron missiles to remind us that they are hard by. They have not moved the bulk of their army for some time. What are they up to?