George Joseph Williams Samuel Thomas III's Journal

(Civil War Journal)

I am George Joseph Williams Samuel Thomas the Third. I am from Albany, New York. I am the oldest of my family of 5, and I have a sister and brother. Family life is good. We are merchants, and we are well-known for our general stores through New York. I am serving as a private in the great Union Army.

Frank Thompson: I've been through the mill in the kitchen today, but the roots are as scarce as hen’s teeth. But I did find some goobers.

PERSON: I didn't have time to go through the mill today, I was busy being chased by graybacks who wanted to pierce my sheet iron crackers and greenbacks with their Arkansas toothpicks.

Frank Thompson: Did ya see the jailbirds that whirled past here? They look like a hard case being chased by some angry green horns.

PERSON: Yeah, they were wallpapered on joy juice.

Frank Thompson: Completely. Those hornets should catch em’ someday soon. By the way, Aren't our uniforms hunky dory?

PERSON: If you mean sown by kid glove boys as wallpapered as the jailbirds, sure. They were definitely not made by bottle washers. They are snug as.......

Frank Thompson: a BUG!!!!

PERSON: No. A slug.

Frank Thompson: -_- ….I am so fit to be tied with those skunks treating us the way they do. Hold on… I need to go quick-step!!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

PERSON: Top-rail, possum.

Dear Mother,

Camp life is boring. All we're doing is drills, drills, drills, drills, drills, and lastly, drills. Attached is a picture of me. As you can see, I am wearing my new uniform (finally!). I look pretty spiffy, don't I? Anyway, back to camp life....We have drills, and the food is the equivalent of bat droppings. It's dry, brown, and stinky. We have dessicated vegetable soup (which we found hay stalks in, by the way) and sheet iron biscuits. The meat we do get is flecked with green specks. If you have the ability and means to....please send me some food! I'll appreciate it. Otherwise, camp is divided into 3 parts. Fields for drills, soldier quarters, and the mess area. The ammunition and supplies shed is by the fields. One night, a soldier got caught sneaking into the mess area for more food. Poor thing didn't get dinner because of the drills. He was caught and whipped in front of all of us. They probably mean to scare us.

From your ever-obedient son,

George

Citing:

INTERVIEWER: Welcome to The Daily News #3, your daily source of interview news! Today, at the studio, we have Civil War POW Jeremiah Handley!

JEREMIAH: Thanks for having me, Bob.

INTERVIEWER: No problem. Let's get started. So, Jeremiah, how was life at Andersonville?

JEREMIAH: Horrible to the 13th power. My whole regiment was sent to Andersonville, where we were basically told to fend for ourselves. We got poor cornmeal, nasty guards, unsanitary conditions, and contaminated drinking water.

INTERVIEWER: So, how serious was your injury on the battlefield before being sent to the camp? Was it a gunshot wound?

JEREMIAH: It was horrible. I got shot in the heel by a shard of rock splintered off of a bigger rock from a bullet. It was not that bad, but the prison camp made it all worse.

INTERVIEWER: How is your brother while you were at the camp? Did you survive?

JEREMIAH: ...

INTERVIEWER: ...

[Jeremiah starts crying]

JEREMIAH: He found me at the camp. He found me, among his enemies. He found me and killed me.

INTERVIEWER: But you're here now.

[Jeremiah pokes finger through himself, audience gasps]

INTERVIEWER: AHH!!! IT'S A SCARY GHOST!!!! RUNNN!!!! HIDE!!!!!!!

[everyone runs out screaming]


Beautiful, ain't it? There's nothing like sunrise in the camp.

NASA. "Sunrise." NASA. NASA, 30 Aug. 2011. Web. 22 Apr. 2014. <http://www.nasa.gov/multimedia/imagegallery/image_feature_2047.html>.

Dear Friend:

How are you today? I'm great. Camp life is slowly improving. The chefs are coming up with better food, we are doing less drills (and we are getting the hang of it!), and the generals are getting lenient. It's near Christmastime, everyone is preparing for the holidays at camp. My favorite food is bettle fritters, and the recipe is as follows:

Recipe for Beetle Fritters:

Ingredients Needed:

3 Hardtack Crackers

3 Globs of Grease

1 Pan

Instructions:

1. Crack open hardtack crackers over pan, over fire, shake weevils out.

2. Add the 3 globs of grease.

3. Fry the weevils over the fire. (there should be approx. 42 weevils)

4. Take out to cool.

5. Enjoy!

Makes 5 Servings

Me and my pals chilling.

Citation:

Bowling State Green University. "Center for Archival Collections." Archival Chronicle. BGSU, n.d. Web. 29 Apr. 2014. <http://www2.bgsu.edu/colleges/library/cac/ac/page47563.html>.

Found this by the side of the woods. It's so pretty and colorful!

Citation:

BYU. "Brigham Young University - Idaho." Flower & Bridal Show. Brigham Young University, n.d. Web. 29 Apr. 2014. <http://www.byui.edu/applied-plant-science/flower-and-bridal-show>.

Some artist drew this and plastered it all over the camp wall today.

Citation:

Marching Song:

(To the tune of They'll be Coming Round the Mountain)

The Graybacks be coming from their holes -

The Graybacks best be coming from their holes of homes -

The Graybacks be coming, oh they best be coming, ooh the Graybacks are coming to the battlefield!

Dear Journal:

A lot of people are being injured from the battles lately. I've seen people coming in screaming for their families, blood pouring out of their legs and arms and faces, and worst of all, dead soldiers coming in on medical stretchers. The surgeons are no use, all they do is cut off the offending limbs and say, "You're done. Next!". Is that any way to treat a wounded warrior? Do they even practice medicine? One time, I saw a general coming in on his horse with a wounded ankle, the surgeons simply cut it off. That man may never fully walk again. Dang surgeons....the world never needed them anyway.

Dear Journal:

Well, it's all over. We're all finally going back. Our enlistments are all nearly over, the war is nearly over, and everything. I'm finally going back to Mother and Father and my brothers! Or at least, I hope. I've heard from the Graybacks in the prison camps that they will probably never see their families again because the South is ruined. If my family is gone.....I will get a job with the little pay I got for my enlistment. I will move on. I do not want to live with this terrible war anymore.

Citation for Photo:

"Polk County Itemizer-Observer." Polk County Itemizer-Observer. N.p., n.d. Web. 29 Apr. 2014. <http://www.polkio.com/ns/news/23526/historic-hoskins-house-hopes-to-go-home>.

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