Diary And Memoranda, 1864
Mar. 12th. Camp life begins to look like a dull affair; am not so anxious to come out with my pretty gun as at first. Have just come in from parade, have eaten supper and now my thoughts wander to friends and relatives at home and the good times I used to have. It would be impossible to count the number of times that my mind turns toward it during the day, still I am contented.
