Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills, (8th Illinois Infantry)
    

“That I have lived something over a thousand days, in a blue uniform seems incredible. Six months sounds much more reasonable.”–Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, Charles Wright Wills.

Scottsboro, Ala., April 24, 1864.

Spring is here at last, and summer is almost in sight. The last two days have been fully as warm as I care to see weather in April. There has been a great deal of cold, wet weather here this spring, and vegetable life is unusually backward; but the last few days have effected a great change in the forests. The north side of the mountains still look bare and wintry, the soft maple being the only tree I have noticed “in leaf” on those slopes; but nearly all of the trees and bushes on the southern mountain slopes are in full leaf. In the valleys, the poplars, the beeches, and the black gums are nearly in full spring dress, being far in advance of their comrades–the oaks, chestnuts, hickories and white gum. Of the smaller trees the dogwood leads in assuming a spring costume. Two years ago this date, vegetation was further advanced at the mouth of the Ohio than ’tis here now. Do you remember, I arrived home just about two years ago this time; stayed two and one half days, and then, for Corinth? How easily my three years in the army have made way with themselves. That I have lived something over a thousand days, in a blue uniform seems incredible. Six months sounds much more reasonable. “Black Jack” reviewed our division yesterday. Only eight of the 13 regiments could be present; but ’twas the finest review I ever saw. Logan rode through our camp, and expressed himself much pleased at our way of keeping house. We have a beautiful camp, every part of it cleanly swept every morning. It is also decorated profusely with evergreens from the mountains. I suppose it is unnecessary to tell you what we killed in the deerhunt, I spoke of in my last, as in prospect; but we did have a power of fun. Colonel Young, the citizen who proposed the party to me, is probably some 55 years old; and at heart a Rebel (he is now a member of the Alabama Legislature) but has taken the oath. I noticed a suspicious “auburn” tinge on his nose, and provided myself with a canteen of pure lightning commissary whiskey. The colonel had tasted none of the ardent for a long time, and his thirst was excessive. He became intensely demoralized; and proved the most amusing character of the party. He made us a speech, and committed so many fooleries, that if he had been anything but a Rebel, I would have been ashamed of myself for my part in his fall. Captains Wyckoff and Brown received orders yesterday accepting their tenders of resignation, and have started home. Lieutenant Worley has been detached to the Signal Corps. He is worthy of it. We (the whole corps) received orders this morning to prepare for the field immediately. The order is from McPherson and says: “Not one tent will be taken into the field, only two wagons will be allowed the regiment, one for the officers and one for the cooking utensils of the men.” That is coming down pretty low. Three years ago we had 13 wagons to each regiment. Two years ago eight, one year ago ’twas reduced to six, and now to two. What will it be next? Captain Sid. writes that two divisions of our corps will be left on this line of railroad to guard it this summer. I think ours and Morgan L. Smith’s will probably be the two; but ’tis hard to tell. I would for my part much rather march; if we do march, I have no doubt our course will be what I have before told you, Larkin’s Landing, Lebanon and Rome, Ga. They have made a change in our artillery. Two batteries now accompany each division, and the rest goes into an artillery reserve, a corps organization. You remember that I told you that the 1,500 horses we foraged in this country would be dead loss to the government. Our authorities fed them all winter, and this last week an order came to give them back to the citizens. Remember they have all been paid for. But they are of no account to the army, and ’tis the best thing that can now be done with them.

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