Will Fisher to his mother
Stafford C. H., Virginia
February 1, 1863

Dear Mother,

Although at present I have no stamp to mail this letter with, I will write & run the chance of getting one before long. Almost everyone is getting out of stamps just now, but they will be plenty enough in a few days when they get a mail from home. I sent you one day before yesterday with my money in. Have you got that one yet? If so, I hope you will answer immediately so as not to keep in suspense about the safety of the money. I have just been writing to Nelson B. Holden, but will have to wait before I can mail it.
Today is Sabbath & is very quiet. There is no service from some cause, nothing only the usual Sunday morning inspection. We have to do a good deal of picket duty now, but do not have any drill.
The mud is very bad indeed now.
There is a boat load of express come in for us & the wagons have gone to the landing after it. Have you started the box yet? This weather I feel the want of a vest. My old vest give out awhile ago & the government does not furnish any.
We have drawn potatoes once or twice since we came here & I tell you they are good. I drew 6 potatoes for a ration. We draw ¾ of a lb of salt beef or pork or 1½ of fresh meat per day. Of hard crackers, we draw 12 a day. Of sugar, 2 tablespoonfuls a day per man, & coffee we draw 3 times as much as we want, & the same of soap. We also draw beans & rice. I think we are well provided for as the circumstances will permit.
I hear them talking outside of the tent of the arrival of the express boxes. I wish there was one for me for I am hungry as a bear but I don’t allow myself to think of such things much. There is some in this company that are dreadful home sick & I don’t envy them their unhappiness.
I have sometimes thought that I did not say enough about my boots being made large, but I guess they will do.
With much love to you & Aunt S.

I remain as ever your boy,

P.S. I would like to have some paper & envelopes for I am near out. Tell Uncle Nat to answer my letter. Excuse these flourishes.
William Garret Fisher

P.S. One thing I had like to forgot, I wish you would send me a little black pepper, in a paper, by mail, if you don’t send the box.