"Minor" Matters

Dear Fred,

In the western theater, the build up at Fort Donelson was continuing. I daresay some of the men were holding their breath, waiting for the guns to begin echoing through the cold February air. However, literary fancy aside, it was true that Grant's position was getting a little stronger as each day passed. Three more wooden gunships steamed up from Alabama in preparation for the fray.

Back east, what remained of the the Confederate shipping in the Hattaras area was smashed by the Yankee's superior navel prowess. General Burnsides set his feet more firmly into Southern soil around Elizabeth City and turned his be-whiskered face south toward New Berne.

All in all, it was not what I would call a momentous day, but still, the wheels of war continued to turn...and the Yankee's to invade.

More tomorrow,

Grandfather

Charles grinned at his friend over the map's edge, "Freddy...I like it when your grandpa throws in some of that...wha'dhe call it? 'Literary fancy'?"

Fredrick reached for the map, "Let me see that now. Yes, he likes fancy phrases on occasion. I think he must have been in a good mood when he wrote that. Not that the subject is a happy one for him."

Chuck shook his head, "No...I don't reckon it is. Still, I like it when he's funny."

Their third room-mate pulled his head from his Latin book, "Huh. Chuck, you just like anything 'funny'. Now, will you guys be quiet? I'm trying to get my conjugations straight!"

The two scholars of the late war observed each other with amused grins and then turned themselves to their own Latin books.