Thomas Wright's Diary

March 1863

1, March 1863

My feel much better, leg near good, still stiff no real problems. Don't know what that fever was, after about a week it just stopped. Up an moving with a crutch, help support my weight some.

Nurse say, I should tell my family I am doing good.
Should last letter they got, sent it from Nashville, just as I arrived. I am now just ta the point of thinkin clear not all blurry on thins. Don't know what they gots planned fer me. I can stand some without that blame crutch. Soon as I can walk, I am gettin back ta Leonard and Pete. Finish out my enlistment. Might tired, first full day of movin an all.

3, March 1863

Still hard ta bend my knee, I will bend my knee! Needs ta get back ta my friends. Doc checked on me this mornin, say I may not get back ta my Regiment again. I say ta hell with that! Ain't goin home, just won't do that! My friends and the Regiment needs me! Nurses they right nice, treat us all good. Have no idea why they treats me good, this broke leg was from no battle, just done while workin was all.

Truth be known, don't even know how I broke it.
Just know the pain ain't near as bad. Unless I walk or stand ta long. Or ifin I am tryin ta bend it, like I am now. Lane sakes need out a here. Needs my musket and kit, get back out ta the fight.

10, March 1863

Well can bend my knee some, walk well near it without that blame crutch. I am ready ta at least Drill some. That a help get thins ta workin, it will I knows it. Use that blame crutch ta do some drill with. Fer an hour seemed longer kept track, by the nurses enterin an leavin the ward. I walked right shoulder arms then left attention parade rest.

My I now ache. I will do this every day till I am out of here. I will not give up! Supper was beans an cornbread. Beans tasted bad, cornbread was dry. How ya screw both up? Not get one of them right.
Well guess I go hungry. Right nice Nurse brought me some milk broke that cornbread up put in that milk. Least it tasted better. Ma, did that sometimes fer breakfast left over cornbread an milk. Reminds me a home. Late best try an sleep.

12, March 1863

Ma an Betsy came ta visit, Joe brought them out. Spent time with thum just talkin and lookin at Betsy then Ma. All is good spent time alone with all three. Joe well we talked about, what may happen, told him I was not quittin this fight, till it was over.
Think Joe understood, least ways I hope. Ma I calmed her worries some, she smiled at me.

Betsy, well think we said few words, other than her smile and warm eyes, a lookin at me and just holdin each other. Don't remember much else other than sayin by ta all three. I may be wrong, do need ta finish this. End this war, so we can start ta mend this Union this country. Oh an Betsy an Ma brought a cake an Joe brought some good whisky.
Might Grand day! Who care about poor cooked supper, got plenty a cake ta eat.

13, March 1863

Fella on the ward, asked ifin Betsy were mixed like a dog or cat. Say she looked just a touch black. I say what business it a his? Whites an darkies shouldn't mix. Is what he say, then he say theys should be free, but keep ta themselves. I walked away, he needed a good beatin. I will not be put on charges fer killin a man. Turns out he from Indiana, just when ya think some in the north had some kind of hope.

Day spent two hours drilling, ache some not like the first day. Knee bends better can walk better. Goin ta try and run tomorrow, ifin I can do that I will ask ta go back ta my Regiment. Long day plum tuckered.

14, March 1863

Well can't quite run yet, near it but not a run. My that brought on some pain. Doin fine n
o worry I a get this, try some again every day. I will get this.
Ladies from near here brought in some stew and pie some other thins. Supper was good fer a change. Full up, couldn't eat more ifin I tried.

The bands are playin, they started up Home Sweet Home. That one brin back memories of Stones River. Still hear the sounds of Battle, musket an cannon fire, screams. That Rebel Yell! Men fallin like leafs. Ground covered in dead, not place ta walk. Blood stained dirt, an rocks. Cedars lookin a fire from smoke driftin out thum. Tattered brown gray and blue shirts fluttering in the breeze.

The tin stench of blood filled the air, burnt powder what all else a man could smell. Dead eyes closed peaceful like others like they saw death himself eyes stuck open look of pain on they faces or fear dreadful fear. That poor Drummer seein all that, still goin back ta help. Tattoo just played, best get myself ready fer bed.

17, March 1863

I can move good. Still can't run ta well, they are a lettin me work some. Handing out supplies ta the newer recruits. Gives me somethin ta do makes the day seem shorter. Still Drill some got a musket ta use. They not send me back ta the Pioneers I just find a Regiment here an leave. That battle stuff may linger and scare ya, but I can't let it stop me.

This need ta end, this killin must stop. Poppy could been killed by members of the 59th. It don't matter it is not right, we killin ourselves. We are a Union we should be whole. These new fellas all look an act like, they ready ta fight, like wild fire. They not knowin what battle be like, just hope they make it.
Hell I am stuck here fer a broke leg. Am I insane wantin ta go back? The thought a killin, just scares me ta no end. Best try an sleep, maybe those night scares a quit.

Well, Thomas seems to be on a steady recovery.

Does he end up back with the Pioneers? I guess time will tell.

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