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I can get no ink, nor pens nor paper. I hope this letter will find you at home in the same good health as it leaves me at present. Thank God for it. Not many who came out with me are like me in that respect. After we landed there were eight of us transferred to No. 3 Company, 11th battalion, and the rest to other companies. I have seen my old company twice since I have been leading driver of No 3 gun waggon here. I assure you we have had most fatiguing marches, night and day. I suppose you have heard of the battle of Alma. We began our march on the 19th of September, and had a skirmish the same evening. The battle of Alma was fought the next day, and a most formidable position the enemy had. No troops in the world ever had one such as the Russians had that day; yet victory crowned our efforts. The cheer which our brave fellows gave after it was over made me long to be at them again. It is not at the moment of action that you think anything about it; but it is in going over the battle-field the next day that it would grieve the stoutest heart to see the dead and wounded lying about. I cannot describe it, but the papers will tell you all. We had another engagement on the 25th of this month at Balaclava, where we completely routed the enemy, which was a reinforcement trying to get to Sebastopol. The Turks are no use at all, as they always run away. They had a colonel tried and shot the other day for deserting a post.... There are a great many prisoners taken. There was a spy taken yesterday, and papers found on him, one of which stated that if the reinforcement did not get in in three days they could hold out no longer. I hope it is true.... We have been cannonading Sebastopol 14 days now, and i cannot say how much longer we shall be; but something must soon be done, for it is getting very cold here. The winter will soon destroy more than the enemy. I have not had my clothes or my boots off since we have been here; and as for soap, we cannot get any, and have not seen any since we left the ship. If it please God to spare me to reach home I shall be a happy man. I hope the next time I write to you I shall be able to tell you Sebastopol is taken, and we about to embark for Old England. We have passed through some of the prettiest villages I ever saw. Grapes and fruit of all kinds are in great abundance. But the inhabitants have all fled into Sebastopol.... And now, dear father, accept my kindest love; and may God Almighty protect you all is the sincere prayer of your affectionate son, William James Edwards.”