In the evening we buried five men from the hospital. It seems to be our mournful pleasure to witness such scenes, and listen to the requiem which is breathed by the pieces of the comrades of the departed soldiers every day.
Wednesday, June 23, 1847.—This morning an express left this place for Puebla to ascertain from Gen. Scott whether the train which is now encamped here should proceed on, or wait until the next train coming from Vera Cruz, and then both move together on to Puebla. So, of course, the order for marching to-day was countermanded until the express returns from Puebla.
At noon we had a long drill, drilling in the manual of fire arms and field movements; so, in case we should be so fortunate at meeting the enemy on our way up that we will be prepared for them.
In the evening we again buried eight soldiers; one of them, I think, was Lloyd Coldier, son of John Coldier, of Lewistown, Pa. He belonged to the Second Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers; he was a man well liked in his company. All his company, besides many others, followed him to his final resting-place. If they keep dropping off this way (twenty in three days) there will not be many left to get back to see their wives, friends and sweethearts. They all die of that much feared disease, diarrhœa. There are no less than five hundred now in the hospital down with the same complaint, all belonging to the different regiments in our army. Oh! How solemn and imposing is a military funeral; many a poor soldier dies and is put under sod without anyone knowing anything about him, or even what regiment he belonged to. He is thrown into his shallow grave, with his blankets wrapped around him, without any coffin.
Thursday June 24, 1847.—This morning Col. Wynkoop received information through some of our spies where there was a large quantity of corn, barley, etc., stored away several miles from here, belonging to the Mexican Government. So, at noon, Col. Wynkoop, accompanied by Capt. Walker's