Wednesday, 31st—I got a pass and went to the city again. I spent most of the day in the patent office and in the Smithsonian Institution. I also got my watch repaired, which cost me $3.00. The city seems to be astir; new buildings are growing up all over and some of the Government buildings are being improved. Except for the presence of so many soldiers in the city, no one would think that a four years’ war had just ended. The city needs most of all paved streets, for in wet weather they get very muddy and the city looks no better than a country town. The Washington monument is not yet finished and from a distance it looks like a large smokestack with the top lacking. A part of the Fifteenth Corps left for Louisville today, but all men whose time is out by October 1st were left here to be mustered out at once. All of the eastern men in Sherman’s four corps are to remain in Washington for the present. We had a temperance talk here this evening by William White Williams. I bought a medal of honor from him. Everything is going along fine.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
31st. Arose late. Feeling well. A beautiful day. Visited hospital. Saw Sergt. Babcock and got him released. At 12 took cars. Got into Cumberland at 7:30. Stopped at St. Nicholas. Strolled up town. Some very pleasant residences. Crook and Kelley carried from here.
May 31st. 1865.
Dearest Wife:
I cannot rest this night without writing you a few lines to report progress. Have we not been busy these last—I cannot tell how many—days? To me, it seems an age. Our papers are all complete and have been sent to Headquarters for inspection. Our roll accounts for one hundred seventy-three men; this for Company G. Of the above number, twenty-three are present to be discharged.
The Twentieth Michigan was mustered out this morning, and will start for home tomorrow morning. We expect to be mustered out tomorrow; certainly the next day. My anxiety is for you, my wife, fearing the suspense is greater than you can bear.
It is useless for you to write to me again, darling, and this is the last letter you will get from your soldier. Before this reaches you, I will be on my homeward way, a full-fledged citizen, and as I come, my glad heart will ting the joyous refrain: “Oh, I come. I come, ye hare called me long; I come o’er the mountain with light and song.”
Yours lovingly.
Chattanooga, Wednesday, May 31. Had a pleasant drill with the Battery this morning. No mail, but much grape-vine news via “picket rope line”, but we have not started for home yet. Drew the “last” forage for the 10th time. Drilled an hour and a half over some dismantled pieces. Bathed in the Tennessee in the evening.
