Near Chattanooga, Monday, Nov. 30. Cold during the night but comfortable at midday. Wrote a letter to John, signed pay rolls in the afternoon. It is expected we will move soon. Hope it is so as our infantry are in a suffering condition, their tents at Bridgeport and their blankets, many of them, lost on the battle-field. They are scattered through the valley seeking shelter from friendly cliffs, drawing comfort from glowing fires, and trusting fate and fortune for rations, as Uncle Sam fails this time. But hope it will not be so long.
An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones
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