Army Letters from an Officers Wife, 1871-1888 | Page 2

Mrs. Phillips gave us a most cordial
welcome--just as though they had known us always. Dinner was served
soon after we arrived, and the cheerful dining room, and the table with
its dainty china and bright silver, was such a surprise--so much nicer
than anything we had expected to find here, and all so different from
the terrible places we had seen since reaching the plains. It was
apparent at once that this was not a place for spooks! General Phillips
is not a real general--only so by brevet, for gallant service during the
war. I was so disappointed when I was told this, but Faye says that he is
very much afraid that I will have cause, sooner or later, to think that the
grade of captain is quite high enough. He thinks this way because,
having graduated at West Point this year, he is only a second lieutenant

just now, and General Phillips is his captain and company commander.
It seems that in the Army, lieutenants are called "Mister" always, but
all other officers must be addressed by their rank. At least that is what
they tell me. But in Faye's company, the captain is called general, and
the first lieutenant is called major, and as this is most confusing, I get
things mixed sometimes. Most girls would. A soldier in uniform waited
upon us at dinner, and that seemed so funny. I wanted to watch him all
the time, which distracted me, I suppose, for once I called General
Phillips "Mister!" It so happened, too, that just that instant there was
not a sound in the room, so everyone heard the blunder. General
Phillips straightened back in his chair, and his little son gave a
smothered giggle--for which he should have been sent to bed at once.
But that was not all! That soldier, who had been so dignified and stiff,
put his hand over his mouth and fairly rushed from the room so he
could laugh outright. And how I longed to run some place, too--but not
to laugh, oh, no!
These soldiers are not nearly as nice as one would suppose them to be,
when one sees them dressed up in their blue uniforms with bright brass
buttons. And they can make mistakes, too, for yesterday, when I asked
that same man a question, he answered, "Yes, sorr!" Then I smiled, of
course, but he did not seem to have enough sense to see why. When I
told Faye about it, he looked vexed and said I must never laugh at an
enlisted man--that it was not dignified in the wife of an officer to do so.
And then I told him that an officer should teach an enlisted man not to
snicker at his wife, and not to call her "Sorr," which was disrespectful. I
wanted to say more, but Faye suddenly left the room.
The post is not at all as you and I had imagined it to be. There is no
high wall around it as there is at Fort Trumbull. It reminds one of a
prim little village built around a square, in the center of which is a high
flagstaff and a big cannon. The buildings are very low and broad and
are made of adobe--a kind of clay and mud mixed together--and the
walls are very thick. At every window are heavy wooden shutters, that
can be closed during severe sand and wind storms. A little ditch--they
call it acequia--runs all around the post, and brings water to the trees
and lawns, but water for use in the houses is brought up in wagons
from the Arkansas River, and is kept in barrels.
Yesterday morning--our first here--we were awakened by the sounds of

fife and drum that became louder and louder, until finally I thought the
whole Army must be marching to the house. I stumbled over
everything in the room in my haste to get to one of the little dormer
windows, but there was nothing to be seen, as it was still quite dark.
The drumming became less loud, and then ceased altogether, when a
big gun was fired that must have wasted any amount of powder, for it
shook the house and made all the windows rattle. Then three or four
bugles played a little air, which it was impossible to hear because of the
horrible howling and crying of dogs--such howls of misery you never
heard--they made me shiver. This all suddenly ceased, and immediately
there were lights flashing some distance away, and dozens of men
seemed to be talking all at the same time, some of them shouting,
"Here!" "Here!" I began to think that perhaps Indians had come upon us,
and called to Faye, who informed me in a sleepy voice that it was only