Fort Gillem, Sunday, Dec. 25. Christmas. A warm day, misty and muddy. All is quiet. Health very good. 8 A. M. had our regular Sunday morning inspection, after which Griff and I attended church. Were there in time for Sabbath school, went in and listened to the sweet melody “There is a Happy Land”, and “Homeward Bound”, which sounded very sweetly to my ear. Read the 2nd chapter of Matthew in concert, then went above to listen to a sermon from the 13th and 14th verses of the same chapter. The Calvanistic dogmas preached stronger than I ever listened to from an American pulpit. Did not like it at all.
Returned to feast on Irish potatoes, Uncle Sam’s Christmas dinner. Mail received. Brought us news of a dinner having been started us from home. At night Griff and I attempted to while away the remaining hours by sundry attempts at singing, but we retired early, and the third Christmas in the army was gone.
