Before Vicksburg, Monday, June 8. Unusually quiet during the day, our ammunition being scarce, none at the arsenal, and we used it sparingly for fear of an emergency. George Spencer, David Evans and myself remodelled our shelving, which, for want of something else is this: a shelf dug in the hillside, two feet deep above and long enough to lie down, covered with a double roof of cane-thatch. And this is what we call our home. Yes, it is filled with the dear ones here in mind if not in body.
An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones
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