Vinings Station, November 5, 1864.
Our brigade rear guard all day. Foragers could not find a thing. Traveled through a perfect labyrinth of breastworks. Rebel or Yankee grave every 100 yards. One month ago we passed here confident of overtaking Hood, but he was too swift for us, and after 300 miles travel we are back at the starting point. Altogether it has been the most pleasant campaign of my soldiering. The officers of the regiment have all messed together, and we have had all the good living and fun we wanted. I was under the civilizing influence of a white woman’s society to-day for five minutes, and in consequence feel duly amiable.
