Jan. 3rd, 1863
It is now nearly 4 weeks Since we came to Washington, And though I wrote you imediately after our arrival, and though I have watched each successive mail with an anxiety know only to your-Self yet I have as often been [illegible] to disappointment.
I was almost sure that to-day I should certainly hear from you, but alas; the same luck attended me.
Nor have I heard from home either. I guess you have all forgotten me. Well, I’m hardly worth thinking about, and of course it is no wonder then that I get no letters. I presume, however, you will all take pity on me by and by and Send me a few lines. How cheering a few lines would be to hear from home, and those we love. These long evening while gathered around the campfires, how it would make the poor Soldiers heart pound, to get some such little token of remembered love, Some Such gentle proof of unbroken affection. Ah; you little know how much the Soldier thinks of home and those he has left behind, those whom he has gone to defend. You may think too that we are given to complaining but do you not remember, when we left, how you drew from us the promises to “write often”, and assured us that our letters should be met with a hearty and speedy response, but the answers thus far have been few and far between.
But I will not chide you too much.
I presume you would like to hear news but indeed you will get it much more correctly from the news papers and speedier than I can give it here. In fact we don’t hear anything correctly, nothing but rumors come our way. So you must excuse the scarcity of news in this.
Hoping and trusting that I shall hear from you directly, I will close this hastily written note. I am well, only tired, for we have been drilling pretty hard to-day.
With a sweet good night, I remain dear, yours as ever,