"The Yankees have not moved."

Monday, April 27, 1863, Camp Gregg, Virginia

All winter long, I have been missing a button from my jacket. I have not replace it as there has been no pressing need to do so. Now that we could be marching off to battle at any time, I am scrambling about trying to find a button. Vincent gave me one of his, a nice Yankee button. And then he had to loan me the use of his housewife as I have  misplaced mine. One could say Lee's entire army is a similar agitated state of affairs. 

Those of us unlucky to be barefoot over the winter are pressing for the issue of brogans. Lieutenant Williamson is trying to provide for us by placing special requisitions with the regimental quartermaster. I would not mind aquireing another shirt and two more pairs of socks. As I have been favored with one new shirt and one pair of socks courtesy of Mr. Pickle, it is not likely that I will get anything else for some time. After I received the new shirt, I patched my drawers with my old shirt. I'm sure that I have the most colorful drawers in the entire company.

While I like my kepi, with its' martial looks, I would very much prefer a good, comfortable slouch. The kepi, while looking right and proper for a soldier, it does next to nothing to keep the Sun from emblazoning my head or rain from cascading down my neck. I hear the Yankees have slouch hats.

If we go off to battle anytime soon, it will be with one brogan off. We are missing so many. Adkins, Conners, Lynn, Carter and Johnson are dead. Castle, Lyles, and Duncan are absent, sick. Troy Crenshaw has been absent, wounded since Second Manassas last August. These losses are just in our squad. I am sure the rest of the company is similarly affected. Our captain, Vanlandinghan, resigned last month, being disabled from his wound at Gaines Mill. His replacement, Lieutenant Stover, is absent on a medical furlough due to his wound at Sharpsburg. Lieutenant Williamson runs the company. In the absence of a colonel or lieutenant colonel, Major Bookter now commands the entire regiment. No matter. Corporal Flynn is still with us. He can do anything.

With Castles and Duncan still at odds with each other, I hope they will go to separate hospitals.

The weather has turned wet again but we do not mind. If the roads can be kept bad, Hooker will not move and we can use the time to prepare to receive him. Part of this preparation is the cleaning of our uniforms, muskets, accoutrements and ourselves. Soap has become more available if not abundant. No amount of soap however, can rid us of the problem of pestilence. Our friends, the greybacks, respect no rank or status. All are equally infected and afflicted. To scratch is to be a soldier.

We have tried smoking them out, boiling them out, and picking them out by hand. No matter how many we kill by whatever means, ranks of them advance to replace those killed. There is no end of them. All during this winter inside our cabins, we ate with them, slept with them, played at cards with them and could not exist without them although we wanted to. They entertained us as we held races with them. They entertained us as we killed them. As we mashed them between our fingers and fingernails, they made such a satisfying popping sound. We never tired of the sound. We probably never will. 

The time is nearing when we will be called upon to kill bigger lice- Yankees. We cannot throw them in the fire but we can make things hot for them and make them think they are in H--l. They are still. When will they move?