Letter No. XXVI.
Camp near Knoxville,
December 19th, 1863.
My Precious Wife:
I would like to write you a long letter but it is so windy and disagreeable, and the smoke blows so much in my eyes that I will hardly be able to get through a short note to let you know that I am well. I dream many sweet dreams about you and the children. We are having pretty tough times now; only half rations and half of our brigade barefooted. I was without shoes for two weeks, but have a good pair now.
Macon Mullens, Sam Billingsly, Billy Robinson, Joe Ben Majors and some others, whom you do not know, have been barefooted for three or four weeks, but we have pressed a good deal of leather from the tan yards about here, and several of our men have been shod, and I trust all soon will be. Many letters reach us through Mr. Gushing, of Houston. I have nothing to write which I would enjoy writing out here in the cold. Billy Dunklin has seen Colonel Tom Harrison. He is well and full of fight. Your husband, faithfully ever,
John C. West.
