Meeting to-day.
Chaplain Parker preached. He asked those who would stop swearing to hold up
their hands, and so far as I could see every hand went up. After inspection in
the morning we had nothing to do except to go to meeting and dress parade,
which I believe we are to have regularly. We march to the parade ground, which
is just back of our camp quarters, and form in line. The colonel, with the
major and adjutant on his right and left, station [themselves] in front, the
colonel opposite the colors, which are in the center, between Companies C and
H. The fifer and drummer pass along in front and back again when the colonel
puts us through the manual of arms. A great many civilians come out and it must
be a pretty sight, provided the orders are well executed. If we do well,
nothing is said, but if not, we are cautioned to do better next time.
How I wish I could
peep in on the old folks at home to-night! I imagine just how they are sitting
around, talking, perhaps of me, or better yet, writing me a letter.
There is no use
denying that I am homesick. I have been such a home-body, and my home life has
been so pleasant.
The comforts of my
home, though humble, have been many, and I have never missed them as I do
to-night. I have only been away a short time, but it seems longer to me than
all my life before. It has been crowded so full of strange and stirring events
that it seems as if I would go crazy unless I can see and talk with our folks
about it. Mr. Parker says confession is good for the soul, and I believe it,
for after confessing to my diary as I have I feel better already. I will crawl
in now and perhaps dream of home, which I often do, and which while it lasts,
is just as good as being there.
SOURCE:
Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 40
