There was no religious service of any kind, as Uncle Sam did not seem to think that the souls of us people in the outposts needed looking after.

It would have afforded much comfort to the Roman Catholics had there been a priest stationed there.
The only sermon I ever heard in old Camp MacDowell was delivered by a Mormon Bishop and was of a rather preposterous nature, neither instructive nor edifying.

But the good Catholics read their prayer-books at home, and the rest of us almost forgot that such organizations as churches existed.
Another bright winter found us still gazing at the Four Peaks of the MacDowell Mountains, the only landmark on the horizon.

I was glad, in those days, that I had not staid back East, for the life of an officer without his family, in those drear places, is indeed a blank and empty one.
"Four years I have sat here and looked at the Four Peaks," said Captain Corliss, one day, "and I'm getting almighty tired of it.".