Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

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“The air was alive above us with shells, screeching and howling in their rapid flight.” –Diary of Josiah Marshall Favill.

June 17, 2012

Diary of a Young Officer–Josiah Marshall Favill (57th New York Infantry)

June 17th. Weather very threatening to-day. About 3 P. M. it became almost dark, but immediately afterwards cleared up without rain or wind; very curious. The firing on the picket line, always continuous; to-day it has been unusually severe, resulting in the death of a great many men, without advantage to either side. Colonel Zook was detailed this morning for twenty-four hours as general officer of the day in charge of picket lines. He took off his shoulder straps and wore ordinary soldier clothes in accordance with orders, as every officer exposing himself is sure to be shot. The works are finished in our front, and are strong and handsome and can never be taken by direct attack, that is certain. Everybody is joking now about “on to Richmond.” These works don’t look much like advancing, and from that point of view are a mistake. I forget whether I ever mentioned the best of all, camp beds. We never think now of using any other, and it is worth noting, even at the risk of doing so twice. Seth gets a barrel from the commissary department, takes off the hoops and loosens the staves; then he drives four crotches into the ground about five feet apart lengthways, and two feet across; places two long poles parallel to each other, resting on the crotches, and lays the barrel staves across them, when the bed is complete. We have two in our tents, covered with red blankets, which look very fine. Inverted cracker boxes, placed on sticks driven in the ground, make the best of tables, and are always to be had for the asking. Received letters and newspapers from home; how much pleasure it gives one to hear from civilization. Here there is nothing but pine trees and sand, not even a ditch or spring to relieve the dull monotony; where there is no water I soon grow dull and stupid. Made out to-day a record of the Fifty-seventh, from the date of its organization, for the War Department. Towards evening the enemy opened all his guns, and a lively bombardment followed; our guns replied, and the row was tremendous. The skirmish line increased its fire so earnestly, we thought certainly this time something was up; at 9 o’clock P. M. we were ordered to fall in, and soon afterwards marched to the works and stacked arms, just in rear of the breastworks manned by Burn’s brigade. The air was alive above us with shells, screeching and howling in their rapid flight. They all went over us and think did no harm to anybody. Remained all night, and at 6 A. M. returned to camp and went to sleep.

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