It was expected last
night that we should march to-day, but instead we policed camp. Our
officers are making a sudden effort toward strict discipline so long
neglected, that it is properly called "putting on style" now. C---- put
on a day's extra duty under guard by order of Captain ----, more to glut
vengeance than justice, I am afraid. Men put on extra duty for not
attending roll-call.

[Sidenote: 1863 "Honest Abe"]

Bridgeport, Saturday, Dec. 12. A misty morning which broke into rain,
which drizzled all day, enough to make it sun-less and disagreeable
outside and chilly in tent for want of fire. Read "Honest Abe's"
Message, which in my estimation is true and honest, every word. The
_old_ Democrats in camp would like to criticize, but can't find much
fault. It is hard to put away party prejudices. Small mail arrived, but
none for me.

Bridgeport, Sunday, Dec. 13. The heavy rain of yesterday and last night
still continued, and in the afternoon it rained much heavier with strong
wind which drove it through the tents, rendering everything wet and
uncomfortable. Wrote an imperfect letter to Sister Ellen in A. M. The
remainder of the day spent in reading _Gleason's Companion_ which I
luckily hit on. Comrades in tent playing "poker" all day "for fun". Laid
down at night in wet blankets and aching bones.

Bridgeport, Monday, Dec. 14. Woke up last night to find myself "shaking"
at double quick. Shook for nearly an hour and a half as hard and fast as
ever, after which a burning fever came on and continued all night. Did
not get up to roll call, but watered my horses, after which I was called
on guard, the 2nd relief, guarding C----. Cold and windy, rain cleared
off. Many of the boys raising their tents, walling them with logs,
building chimneys, etc. At night C---- was allowed to go to his tent, so
I was relieved from guard. The evening seemed very long with nothing to
do or read.

Bridgeport, Tuesday, Dec. 15. Quite cold in the morning but sun soon
appeared and warmed up the air as well as the soldiers' heart. Intended
to "fix up" our tent but failed to procure team, so we washed in the
forenoon, built a fire in the woods, it resounding on all sides with the
axes of the soldiers felling trees, etc., as if it was a chopping bee in
the backwoods.

P. M. Wrote a letter to sister. Sewed and darned. The day passed quickly
and pleasantly. No mail, though much looked for.

Bridgeport, Wednesday, Dec. 16. Reveille