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From: Tally Simpson, Camp near Fredricksburg
To: Anna Simpson
Camp near Fred'burg
Dec 25th, 1862
My dear Sister
This is Christmas Day. The sun shines feebly through a thin cloud, the air is mild and pleasant, [and] a gentle breeze is making music through the leaves of the lofty pines that stand near our bivouac. All is quiet and still, and that very stillness recalls some sad and painful thoughts.
This day, one year ago, how many thousand families, gay and joyous, celebrating Merry Christmas, drinking health to absent members of their family, and sending upon the wings of love and affection long, deep, and sincere wishes for their safe return to the loving ones at home, but today are clad in the deepest mourning in memory to some lost and loved member of their circle. If all the dead (those killed since the war began) could be heaped in one pile and all the wounded be gathered together in one group, the pale faces of the dead and the graons of the wounded would send such a thrill of horror through the hearts of the originators of this war that their very souls would rack with such pain that they would prefer being dead and in torment than to stand before God with such terrible crimes blackening their characters. Add to this the cries and wailings of the mourners - mothers and fathers weeping for their sons, sisters for their brothers, wives for their husbands, and daughters for their fathers - [and] how deep would be the convictions of their consciences.
Yet they do not seem to think of the affliction and distress they are scattering broadcast over the land. When will this war end? Will another Christmas roll around and find us all wintering in camp? Oh! That peace may soon be restored to our young but dearly beloved country and that we may all meet again in happiness.
But enough of these sad thoughts. We went on picket in town a few days ago. The pickets of both armies occupy the same positions now as they did before the battle. Our regt was quartered in the market place while the others occupied stores and private houses. I have often read of sacked and pillaged towns in ancient history, but never, till I saw Fredricksburg, did I fully realize what one was. The houses, especially those on the river, are riddled with shell and ball.
The stores have been broken open and deprived of every thing that was worth a shilling. Account books and nots and letters and papers both private and public were taken from their proper places and scattered over the streets and trampled under feet. Private property was ruined. Their soldiers would sleep in the mansions of the wealthy and use the articles and food in the house at their pleasure. Several houses were destroyed by fire. Such a wreck and ruin I never wish to see again.
Yet notwithstanding all this, the few citizens who are now in town seem to be cheerful and perfectly resigned. Such true patriots are seldom found. This will ever be a noted place in history.
While we were there, Brig Genl Patrick, U.S.A., with several of his aides-de-camp, came over under flag of truce. Papers were exchanged, and several of our men bought pipes, gloves, &c from the privates who rowed the boat across. They had plenty of liquor and laughed, drank, and conversed with our men as if they had been friends from boyhood.
There is nothing new going on. I am almost dead to hear from home. I have received no letters in nearly three weeks, and you can imagine how anxious I am. The mails are very irregular. I hope to get a letter soon. Dunlap Griffin is dead, died in Richmond of wounds received in the last battle. Capt Hance is doing very well. Frank Fleming is in bad condition. (He has been elected lieutenant since he left.)
Write to me quick right off. I wish to hear from you badly. Remember me to my friends and relatives, especially the Pickens and Ligons. Hoping to hear from you soon I remain
Your bud
Tally
"Far, Far From Home" (Tally Simpson, 3rd South Carolina Volunteer)"
Christmas Eve 1862 found Union Brigadier General John Geary in Fairfax Station, Virginia, nearing the end of his convalescence from a wound he had received at Cedar Mountain in August. He took some time to offer holiday and fatherly advice to his daughter at home in Pennsylvania: My Dear Little Pet:
"On this Christmas Eve I have no doubt you have been enjoying yourself, perhaps with the toys of the season, eaten your nuts and cakes, hung up your stockings in the chimney corner for old Kris Kinkle, when he comes along with his tiny horses, "Dunder and Blixen" and his little wagon to fill in Lots and Gobs of sweet things, sugar, candy sugar plums, and if you please, sugar every thing. Well, When I was a little boy, a good many years ago, I was fond of such things myself. And when I look back, they were indeed the happiest days of my life. Enjoy them my little "Pet"--they come but once. The boys, I mean the two Willies, are getting too old for the enjoyment you can have. When ignorance is bliss `tis folly to be wise. I wish you a Merry Christmas and many of them. I must close. There is a lot of soldiers at my door giving me a serenade and I must give it some attention."
Letter From Unknown Confederate Soldier- 1864
(printed from America's Memories) Nashville Tenn Jany 5th 64
Friend Ettie
I believe I am not indebted to you by way of letter, but for your kindness to me I will write you a few lines. On New Year's day about one o-clock I received a verry nice gift which I appreciated verry much. It was the only gift that I received, and on that account realize its worth. You have my heartfelt thanks for your kindness and remembrance of a Soldier.
It is quite cool Weather here now and some snow upon the ground but not enough to make sleighing. I wish I wish I were in Hillsdale today I think I would call around to friend Ettie and go out a Sleighing. I get lonesome sometimes and I not know what to do, if I ever get out of the Service alive I am agoing to settle down and get married.
What a novel Idea that is, perhaps you will not believe it but I am not joking. I am not quite an old Bach yet but I fear I will be before long. If you know of some good looking amiable young Lady that wish to change her situation in life, just mention the fact to her, and tell her there is a Soldier in the Army that wishes to marry in less than two years after his time expires in the Army.
Enclosed you will find the likeness of your unknown Correspondent which you will please accept, with the kindest regards.
Bright Merry Christmas is here again, and so am I, right in the breezy woods to enjoy it, unhampered by the restraints of custom, the fetters of fashion, and thraldom of etiquette, ready and willing to hide away a first-class Christmas dinner if I had it. I am glad I am alive and whole, for during this year many a poor soldier whose sun of life glowed in the very zenith of manhood and glory was cut down and immolated on the altar of his country, like the full blown rose that sacrifices and casts its beauteous and fragrant petals on the altar of the passing storm. At sunrise this morning we fired two rounds from our guns in commemoration of the birth of Him who said, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you, not as the world giveth."
The menu of our Christmas dinner was composed wholly of beef with gravy and corn bread. Our mess was afraid to try anything new, as it might throw us headlong on the sick list in the busy season of house building. I was hard at work all day, getting raw material for the business end of our culinary department."
Your letter came to hand a few days since and I am now seated to answer. I have but little news times is very dull out here yesterday was the most quiet day we have had for some time. The soldiers all look sad and lonely. We have nothing spiritual or refreshing in camp. Have not see one case of intoxification during our Christmas holiday. All is calm on the lines in front of Petersburg and Richmond, except some little picket firing on Saturday night. I have a splendid cain and am living quite comfortable at present. Rations are rather scanty.
I have not heard from your Pa since he went to hospital at Staunton. I saw him on the cars, he had measles, but was getting on fine, he told me he would write to me as soon as I wrote to him. I have wrote but have not had time to get an answer.
Mat - I hope you are having a good time today taking Christmas. I am passing it off writing my friends. We had drill this morning. What has become of Fannie? I have not heard from her in some time. You must offer my highest regards to all the girls. I hope I will get off home before the winter breaks. I want to come home very bad this Christmas. Tell "Tee" if I get to come home he and I will start up some Christmas--if it is only to go out and hunt rabbits and know there is a heap of squirrels and other wild game up there. Robert you must be a smart boy while your Papa is gone.
How is my little namesake getting on? Is he most as large as you "Tee"? Polly, your brother Calvin is in my company well and harty, except he sometimes complaining with reumatism in his legs. He seams to be pretty well satisfied for a soldier. I hope you are well. I must close as I have nothing worth notice on hand. My love and best wishes to all the children. Remember me kindly to all who make an inquery if there be any. May heavens best blessings be always with you all.
Yours affectionatly,
Jasper
"Surry County Soldiers in the Civil War" (Hester Bartlett Jackson.)
The following was written in December, 1863 by "Manton", a pseudonym for a correspondent to the Danbury Times during the Civil War. "Manton" wrote a letter for virtually every edition of the paper while the Seventeenth was in the field. "High Private Manton", "H.P. Manton" and "Manton" were all pen names of James Montgomery Bailey, a member of Company C.
"Manton's" description of Christmas 1863 at Folly Island, South Carolina.
Life in the Seventeenth
No. 23 Our Christmas
Holidays will come, you know, and if they do come, why they have got to be attended to. So much fussing and landangling, so much beer and whiskey to be drunk, so much yelling and singing to be gone through whether or no. A friend confidently told me that Christmas came but once a year and I determined to profit by the hint.
By order of Gen. Gilmore and the Orderly I was put on guard yesterday, cautioned to look after the interest of the Country at large, and keep sober. Determined that the Country should not suffer through my negligence, and indignantly refuted all idea of getting drunk. Night came, and Christmas Eve in all its primitive and gorgeous and oriental and magnificent and munificent and beautiful and glorious and splendiferous and South Carolina robes was upon us.
When darkness had settled down on the tapering and graceful sand ridge of Folly Island, the inhabitants thereof concluded that the set time had come, and everybody that was able to go in went in forthwith. N.B.---Now for a bit of sentiment. The heavens were devoid of clouds and comets. Perfectly transparent was the azure dome, and sparkling in myriads of Republican stars. Proudly through this brilliant host sailed the queenly queen of night, showering a million rays of soft lustrous glory, over the verdant foliage and white palaces of the private martyrs of the gallant Seventeenth.
How's that, eh? That "private martyrs" ain't bad, considering. And now leaving the prostrated reader to admire the aforementioned high-falutin, I will give you Mr. Times, a brief description of our unequalled camp. Co.'s E, G, B, and K, of the right wing have their streets hedged tastefully with young spruces and pines, slightly interspersed with a long leafed shrub, beautiful to look at, but very aggravating on a too close acquaintance, each leaf being pointed to the intensity of a needle, and safely calculated to pierce sheet iron.
Although not knowing the name of the plant, yet I flatter myself that I am thoroughly acquainted with the points of things by regularly falling over it three times a day. The entrances to their respective streets are overhung with beautiful arches of evergreens, enclosing well-made wreaths, and pretty festoons of the same material. Co.'s C, F, A, and H are similarly decorated. Co.'s G and K, occupy the central street, in the centre of which, a few feet back from the line is a double arch of lofty size, with the word CONSTITUTION, prettily worked in it.
On the line, and on each side of the street, is a juvenile arch with a wreath in the centre, holding the letter of the Company. The devices are quite unique, and taken together form quite an imposing and picturesque front. Co.'s B, and G, are of the Gothic turn. Co. F---Norwalk---have three fine looking arches, one large and two lesser ones, with correspondingly sized wreaths. The centre contains their letter, and the two others stars. Co. F have also erected a palmetto dining room, and through the indefatigable efforts of their Captain---Allen--- have the satisfaction of taking the lead of the other Companies in this modern convenience.
Today they had a fine dinner served up in the new building, to which I was most kindly invited by Sergeant Oscar St. John, who will please accept my thanks for the seasonable remembrance. A table bountifully loaded with a pleasant variety of substantials extended the length of the room. A half "shelter" with the following inscribed in green leaves was stretched against the wall above the head of the table:
" A MERRY CHRISTMAS."
Co. F
Below it was their Company flag, festooned quite handsomely, and flanked by tasty wreaths of cedars, containing stars of holly. On the opposite wall were similar wreaths surmounted by a cross. I shall not soon forget the pleasing effects of that dinner taken with the bonnie boys of Co. F, not least among whom is little Johnny Bulger with his laughing face. May our next Christmas be eaten within Connecticut lines.
The Hospital and Doctor's headquarters have been handsomely arched, wreathed, festooned and otherwise decorated under the superintendence of Charley Rhan, ho has shown in the effect that he is by no means adept in floral architecture. I am sorry to say that Dr. Gregory is unwell, but we trust soon to see him among us again. His place is temporarily filled by Doctor Shaw of the 41st N.Y., who, I hear, is giving satisfaction with his mixtures. Sammy Barnum is now Hospital Steward.
And now we come to something nice in the quarters of our jolly Drum corps. Imagine four tents on a slight eminence, topped with cedar boughs, and connected together by an evergreen cable, a railing in front also evergreened, surrounded by young pines and holly, and with a pretty arched stairway leading up to the whole, which is tastefully interspersed with handsome wreaths, and loyal stars. Also from out first arch hangs a suspended banner, bearing the following worked in leaves:
17th C.V.
DRUM CORPS,
Union
The drummers tents are as tidy and cozy inside, as they are beautiful without, and the boys being a reserved set of cusses, my grave disposition leads me quite frequently among them.
Long live those musical beings, the only objection I have to whom is the sad repetition of their "calls." But time, my twenty months, will obliterate all such impressions.
Henry Huss, one of them, has drawn a faithful picture of what I have been kindly describing to you. Possibly it may be further illustrated, when you will do well to secure a copy. But I must close now. Every thing is considered lovely by the knowing ones in Camp, and hereabouts. The sutlers from one end of the Island to the other were painfully drunk last night. I was on post from 12 to 2 o'clock dead of night---countersign was all correct, so was I. Several tents were burning lights, whose occupants were not all correct.
Walking my beat in pensive mood, I thought of crowds gathered in certain places in Beaner, and of certain young men who have not yet escaped minority, wandering on Main Street with heavy coat-tail pockets, a Germanic way of conversation, and a tendency to yell at everything, and hug lamp posts.
Suddenly I heard something and casting a heavy glance into the dim darkness, I saw a party approach; looked at them again, and concluded they must be a remnant of Franklyn's Arctic Expedition. Halted them, and after the usual preliminaries got the countersign. While passing by, the most inebriate of the lot, if there could be any distinction, affectionately asked if I were drunk. Angered by the unjust hint, I turned the entire party over to the mercy of the Guards, and fifteen minutes after an amicable settlement was made, and we all -----, but I must not let out the secrets of the guards. It isn't military. It is Christmas night, Tom Hern is talking of canteens, and I must close while I ----
CHARLESTON MERCURY, December 30, 1861, p. 1, c. 3
Richmond, December 25.
Christmas, the fire-cracker Sunday of the year, dawns as brightly as heart could wish. There is anything else than "peace on earth and good will to men," yet the present situation and the prospect before us afford ample cause for gratitude. We are not perhaps so well off as we might have been, but are intact as a nation, and after many months of war with a people much superior to ourselves in numbers and resources, have proved our ability to maintain our independence. Of course, there were egg-nog parties all over the town last night. "It was the custom of my ancestors," said a friend, at whose foaming bowl your correspondent presented himself, "and I intend to keep it up, whether I am able or not, war or no war." Military Christmas gifts are all the go among children, judging from the number of little boys in the street this morning with drums swung from their necks. . . . Hermes.
SAVANNAH [GA] REPUBLICAN, December 25, 1863, p. 2, c.1
"A Merry Christmas?"
Ah! no. We cannot find it in our heart to utter such a wish in these solemn times. The day for merriment wish to [illegible] a people has passed. We are dealing with the fearful realities of blood. We are in the midst of a revolution and the angel of death and desolation stalks abroad through the land. Brother is in arms against brother, a deadly and terrific strife, on the part of one for liberty and his own fireside—on the part of the other for vengeance, subjugation and a remorseless tyranny. Nearly every household in the land is clad in mourning for dear ones departed; want and distress extend their bony arms and embrace thousands upon thousands of a once happy and contented people; avarice wields its might sceptre among us and bring low the widow and the orphan, the naked shoulders of our brave troops are bared to the rude blasts of winter, and their shoeless feet crimson the frozen earth on the battle-field and the march.
Verily, this is no time for rejoicing, for present making, for the revelry usually [illegible line in fold of paper] the sun of 1863 goes down in blood, and the stoutest heart must grow sad when it sees his sickly lingering rays cast athwart a land [illegible] by the tread of hostile armies and resounding with the lamentations of the [illegible]. We hope nobody will have or desire a merry Christmas.
The close of another year is an occasion for reflection, for good deeds to the public, for repentance of our manifold shortcomings, for resolutions of amendment, less selfishness and more patriotism for the future—and for solemn invocation of the Most High to watch, [illegible], reform, protect, and guide us in all our struggles to come.
Thus improved, the Christmas of 1863 will rise upon a precious incense to Heaven, and call down its mercies and blessings upon this suffering land of the South. In the stead of jollification and mirth, we wish for all our readers that quiet but happy contentment of having discharged their whole duty at a time when God and our country required no [illegible] at their [illegible].
PEORIA (IL) MORNING MAIL, December 28, 1862, p. r, c. 2-3
Letter from "B. Sharp."
High Mass at St. Mary's.
Editor Mail:--I have hitherto done little but find fault with the musical arrangements of the churches of this city, and really feel a little ashamed of myself; but I cannot help it, for, first, I think the fault-finding is "called for," and second, it is my privilege, as a "confirmed old maid," to find fault, and I shall exercise my prerogative as I think it is deserved. I am one of those unfortunately constituted individuals known as "nervous," and, to save my life, it is impossible for me to quietly listen to a constant succession of "unresolved discords," or the promiscuous "coming in" of the various voices of a choir—out of tune and out of time,--as it would be for me to be easy when tormented with a raging toothache. Patience is a cardinal virtue, but in the above cases the supply is not equal to the demand.
For a number of years I have been in the habit, on Christmas morning, to attend the early service of the Catholic church. On this, the greatest festival of the year, no pains or expense is spared to render the service as imposing as possible, and as music enters very largely into the Catholic order of worship, it is on this occasion, generally, of the highest order. In the metropolitan churches the choirs are strengthened by the addition of at least a quartette of professional vocalists, and also full orchestra is called into requisition. Then and there can the lover of music enjoy a rich repast in listening to the artistic rendering of the sublime works of Haydn, Mozart, and some of the more modern masters.
But in this city I did not expect all this, and therefore, when in company with some friends, we left our comfortable firesides, and encountered the storm and midnight darkness of Christmas, in our visit to the midnight service at St. Mary's church, it was not with the expectation of listening to the artistic, finished performance of the cathedral choir, but I did expect something—perhaps simple and easy of execution, but still tolerable.
The choir commenced the service with the good old hymn, Adeste Fidelis, during the performance of which, I found that a large proportion of the singers were Soprano—and some very good voices, too,--the Alto very fair in one or two instances, the Tenor and Bass I did not sufficiently distinguish to note peculiarities. The organ—a sweet-toned little instrument—was very clumsily handled, or else the accompaniment to the Adeste has been most unharmoniously altered. Then followed the commencement of the Mass,--the Kyrie Eleison.
The music was not familiar to me, but struck me as being very peculiar in its composition, or else _____. Then followed the joyful "song of the angels"—the Gloria in Excelsis—the opening strain of which was unmistakably familiar—it cannot be mistaken when once heard.
I listened attentively for what followed. Surely, that strain was the commencement of the Gloria of Haydn's Third Mass—the Imperial—but where was the balance? It must be that some scribbler has surreptitiously appropriated that much to his own base use, or else the choir of St. Mary's have, in this instance, done what so many aspiring church choirs have before this accomplished in the same way—undertook more than they could succeed in doing well and made a signal failure.
During the entire service that little organ was not quiet for a moment, but persisted in "showing off" its capabilities of murdering harmony, and of putting in defiance all known and acknowledged musical laws. I verily expected it would attempt to accompany the sermon, but to my great joy it ceased its idle clamor at the moment the reverend father ascended the pulpit, but only to collect strength to commence with renewed vigor the moment the sermon was ended. I think the organist of St. Mary's is determined to earn his salary, and to that end has concluded to make up in quantity of his performance what he lacks in quality.
Myself and friends did not stay to hear the conclusion of the musical (?) portion of the service, but elbowed our way through the throng of worshippers, there assembled, and sought our homes.
Now, Mr. Editor, I wish to know why it is that second rate choirs will, on all occasions like the present, almost invariably attempt more than they have the ability to accomplish? Why can they not be satisfied with less difficult music? There is plenty of easy music of a very pleasing style for the use of Catholic choirs—Masses by Peters, Webbe, LaHache, and very many others—the tasty performance of which will give good satisfaction to all, both performers and listeners, and the choir of St. Mary's would do well to practice such and such only.
If you have no Tenor—and Tenors are hard to find—get the three part Masses of LaHache, for Soprano, Alto, and Bass, which are very pretty and not difficult of execution, and if your organist is capable of performing well his part, you will in good time, by much practice, furnish a style of music gratifying to your honored pastor, to the congregation, and to yourselves, but until then the music will be, as it was on Christmas morning, a FAILURE.
SUMMARY: Letter written to P.H. Powers' wife wishing her a merry Christmas and informing her that the Confederates had whipped Burnside at Fredericksburg and are now hoping for a peaceful separation with the Union.
Dec 25th 1862 Mrs P.H. Powers Care of Dr A.L. Baldwin Winchester, Virginia
Wife Camp Near Fredricksburg
Dec 25th 1862
My Dearest Wife
I hardly have the heart to wish you a Merry Christmas this beautiful Christmas Morning because I will know merriment is not for you this day but I can and do wish you a happy day and the same to our little dears, who I suppose must be content with very meager gifts and very few sweet things. I thought of them when I first awoke this morning about day. And wondered what you managed to put in their stockings. Memory went back to the many happy Christmas days we have shared together with them. Alas will the good old times ever return again? And you and I with our little ones dwell together in peace? I hope so. I believe so, but the heart sickens with the deferred hope.
So I have been Jim's chief cook for a week since his servant left. Not much time was given me this morning for such sad affections, with the responsibilty of a Christmas breakfast on my mind. So I stirred myself from a warm bed (end of sentence deleted). A Major Quartermaster to a Captain (word missing) but necessity is a hard master. And you know I can do anything. I am a better cook than Steven. I wish you could have been present to witness my sweets and partake of my viandes, Barbecue Rabbit, Beef Hash with Potatoes, hot bread and coffee. If the darkies all learn as I shall be able to (illegible word) some assistance. We are very comfortable in camp. have good tents, and wood is in abundance to keep off the frost. I have been axcidingly busy for the last week assisting Jim in paying off the troops and really he needed it. He worries at every thing. Allows every (illegible word) to suffer his equanimity and makes himself (illegible phrase). I wish from my heart he could get out of the Department he is in. Though I see no hope for him.
He had a letter from Robert yesterday. All well. And nothing new. I have written you several times since I have been here but as yet have not heard from you. Continue to write some of your letters will (end of sentence cropped off.) I wrote you some account of the great fight. But you wil see from the papers how terribly whipped Burnside was, and what a commotion it has produced in Yankeedom. I think the sky brightens and our chances for peace improve. But still the war may bring on another year, or event to the end of Lincoln's term. It is as warm this morning as June. And every thing bright. If I only was with you for the day at leat I would have a happy Christmas. We are invited to dine with Tom Bullard. And I am (illegible word). I must now stop. With love to all.
Very Affectionatel Yours
P.H. Powers
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George P Kersh Camp Tip Top, Pocohontas County, VA
December 25, 1861
Dear Brother
I take this opportunity to write a few lines home I received your letter dated on December 15th on the 19th and was glad to hear from you all I wrote a letter home on the 9th of December and on the 16th I suppose you did not get all the letters I wrote home Some must have been mislaid I have been writing nearly every week on an average We have been trimming and burning brush ever since the fight we had no fortifications for the canon the day of the fight we have five now we have been blockading some roads also and extended our trenches around further we will have a better chance at the yanks if they come now the brush being burnt from around our fortifications they had a better chance then we had the day of the battle they could lay behind the brush and logs concealed and when we would raise up to look for them they would fire at us they knew exactly where to look for us in the trenches we had a false alarm here last Monday we were ordered in our trenches about five o'clock in the morning all the regiments were ordered in the trenches we waited for the Yankees till about an hour by sun and no yanks come so we went home to our breakfast disappointed the way the alarm got out was that some of our men slipped the pickets that night to hunt some liquor and When they returned the pickets heard them and took them to be yanks and fired a couple rounds on them and run in no one was hurt Wm Cupps is doing pretty well now since he has been put on duty he had done no duty since he belonged to the army worth naming until a few weeks ago the Doctor would not have him on the sick list no longer so he had to go on duty Wm H Fry is well and bustling around Jacob Harvey Craun is nearly well again he is taken off the sick list and goes on duty again Adam Craun is not well & has not been for some time having a kind of diarrhea and jaundice Adison L. Hisner is has not been well for some time one of our boys named Philip Caffrey went home today with the fever the balance of our Company are well that we have here now we have none at the hospital here now Harvey Misner has gone home sick Wm Jammason had been sick getting well again The health of our regiment is improving now not as many sick as had been we have a dry Christmas here the boys had to go to work today as well as any other day we work here on Sundays too as to myself I am excused from duty to day having a bile on my leg which hurts me some otherwise I am in good health as to getting a furlough it would be impossible now as we ain't through with the work yet and look for the yanks every day towards spring probably we may get them, it is just left to the officers choice if you and (B?) should come out you may bring a flannel and cotton shirt along if you can get flannel yet if not it dont make no difference I believe that is all I want now I will answer Josey letter next
Yours respectfully
AW Kersh
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