To My Pards in the 24th Me.
After the miasmic melange of Ship Island and the numerous dissipations of the Crescent City, the riparian fresh air at Hudson was just the needed restorative. Not only was I able to keep up with my patients on the march, but, at one point, I was able to put on a burst of speed catching the Major up with his pre-battle, ah, dose. (A case of Bolus Rounds on the fly.) At this rate, IF we stay in these parts, I shall soon be the very picture of vitality and vigor. And so should we all, them of us as ain’t shot or alliga-tah bit.