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Saturday, March 18, 2006

March 17. 1777
Nothing exceptional. After several weeks on the Burford we are now getting into a routine. Each morning we are mustered out and counted by our sentries. We continue to be divided into the messes we had aboard the Dolton. Each day one of our messmates is appointed to draw our rations and bring them back to the mess. Our officers reside above decks but we confer with them nearly every day to see what news they have heard. At times we still receive a newspaper from friends among the Burford crew which we share througout our people but the news generally bodes ill for us. To keep up our spirits those of us who are well enough play at games during the day with balls fashioned from old cloth and rope ends. My friend Joseph Shillaber has taken sick and is laid up with our other sick at the far end of this deck. I look in on him several times a day to check on his condition. We are not allowed candles or lamps in the evening and therefore we are asleep soon after dark.

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