Etowah Bridge, Monday, Nov. 7. A fine day. Health good. Received letter from home. On duty in the afternoon. No news. Trains passing in great numbers, taking stores to the front. Artillery and wagons, etc. to the rear. Walked to town in the evening. Met Mother Bickerdyke on the hospital train going North after supplies. Shook hands with her and had a motherly chat. Noble soul. Thy memory will remain bright when that of traitors and rebels lies mouldering in oblivion. Thy smiling face is a cordial to the lonely soldier, better to the aching heart than money or medicine.
An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones
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