As usual, everything is very quiet along the Potomac, but we are hoping for a little storm soon as this quiet life is really, I think, worse than if we were doing something.
I am writing in a new hospital where I am stationed for the first time. It is like the other hospital I wrote of where the men are brought in from the post des secours and given their first real dressings before being sent back. When they are sent back, they all have an envelope and paper like the enclosed tied to them.
Here it is very quiet, but very pleasant. The hospital is at the end of a little valley made by two very steep pine covered hills that run back about a quarter of a mile and meet forming a pocket. The hospital is at the mouth of the pocket and looks out over another little valley.
The men here are very nice and there are two who speak English. One is a Catholic priest who has charge of the pharmacy or laboratory. I was sitting in his room the other night with the other boy who is here and he asked me if I would like some lemonade. Then he took some tartaric acid and water, mixed them up and made some of the most wonderful lemonade I ever tasted. Tartaric acid diluted with water and sugar forms a strong lemon juice so that was how he was able to do it, but imagine cold lemonade at the front - some luxury.
Here also we have sheets and mattresses on the beds as we are sleeping in a little room kept for grands blesses in case of an attack. The food is pretty good and I am feeling fine. I have only been in at headquarters for two days in the last ten so I don't know what has arrived in the way of packages.
This is a small bit of news, but it is all that there is.