July 26th, 1864.
It has been unusually quiet at the front the past week. It is the calm that precedes the storm. That storm will, doubtless, be a fearful one; the very earth will shake in terror when all Grant’s artillery opens up in concert. The signal is to be the springing of a mine or mines. All able-bodied soldiers, doing duty in hospitals, leave for the front today, their places being taken by musicians. Every man will be needed in the coming onslaught.
It is nearly supper time, and I, who never gave a thought to such matters in all my previous life, must go and see that the table is properly spread.
