I am Sick—discontented—and out of humour. Poor food—hard lodging—cold Weather—fatigue—nasty cloaths—nasty cookery—Vomit half my time—smoak’d out of my senses—the Devil’s in’t—I can’t Endure it—why are we sent here to starve and Freeze—Here all Confusion—smoke and cold—hunger and filthyness. A pox on my bad luck.
—ALBIGENCE WALDO, CONTINENTAL ARMY SURGEON, DECEMBER 14, 1777