Everyone—and everything–in Libby Prison is infested with lice. Most men have large, scabbing patches of exposed scalp from having scratched the flesh off in a desperate attempt to ease the itching. Many of these patches ooze with infection. Full grown lice run freely over heads, bodies, blankets, and provide a modicum of dark amusement in the attempt to squash them. It’s a misery not entirely foreign to the soldiers from the battlefield, but here, where there is no opportunity to bathe or escape infestation, the situation is considerably worse.

Unsure what the message was intended to be, you set the cloth aside until tomorrow when you can begin again anew.