Chattanooga, Sunday, June 11. Sultry and oppressive weather. Rain still keeps at a distance. The day has passed very quietly. It was with difficulty that I managed to scribble a sheet to Sister Hannah. Read several old numbers of Cincinnati Commercial giving glowing accounts of the grand reviews at Washington, a brilliant thing I have no doubt, but I rather think unpleasant to the soldier. If the lookers-on thought of how the soldier boy would return to camp to munch his “hard-tack” and “sow belly” notwithstanding he has finished up the rebellion, while the pleased spectator returned to his hot biscuit and et ceteras—fewer flowers and more good eating, I say.
An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones
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