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.
