I am about to enter my 3rd battle. The skunk told our regiment that we should be engaged in a battle sometime tomorrow. Some of the fresh fish that were recruited last week got the quick step and won't be fighting. All that is left to eat is goobers and sheet iron crackers. It doesn’t settle well in the bread basket. Eating this food makes me miss your cooking. We still got good ole tar water. The skunk says we shouldn’t drink before battle’s cause we’ll get wallpapered. My possum Jim got shot in the last battle, he was a real chief cook and bottle washer. The bonesaw took a look at him and said he might not make it. He said he wasn’t shot with a musket, he said that he was shot with a pepper box. I am just hoping we stay strong and don’t
