Line of Battle,
three miles southeast of Hagcrstown, Md.,
Sunday, July 12, 1863.
Dear Sister L.:—
All my writing material is in my knapsack and I have had no chance to write since the 4th, when I sent you a line to say I was safe. Now I have begged a scrap of paper just to relieve your impatience for news, but I can’t write much more now.
Since the great victory at Gettysburg we have been straining every nerve to overtake and strike the enemy before he leaves Maryland. Thousands of the men are barefoot, and officers, too, but they are bravely struggling on, footsore and hungry, enduring everything without a murmur, so we may finish the war now.
We had one of the greatest battles of the war, and a great victory, too. The old Third Brigade fought like demons, took four hundred prisoners, and laid the rebels in heaps before them. We were splendidly posted behind rocks and trees, and you may judge of the fight when I tell you that of thirteen hundred men in such a position we lost three hundred and fifty-nine and no prisoners. Colonel Vincent was mortally wounded, and died on the 7th. That was a loss to our brigade that cannot be replaced. The night he was wounded I went in to see him. He was very weak, but he held out his cold hand to me and asked “if I had just come from the front.” When I told him yes, and how well the boys had fought, his eye brightened, but he was too weak to talk much. His commission as Brigadier General was read to him on his death-bed.
There are thousands of things I could tell you that I cannot write. The main thing is to tell you that I am still safe and well, doing my duty the best I can, never shunning danger when it calls, but ever coming out safe. With that for the present you must be content. I am tired, almost worn out, haven’t had my shoes off for a week, lying sometimes in the heaviest rain without a shelter, not allowed a minute of my own, and you can see I have but little time to write.
Edwin Willcox has been within ten minutes’ ride of me for a week, and yet I have not and cannot go to see him.
Last night there was one of the grandest sights ever seen. The whole Army of the Potomac advanced two miles in line of battle, column by division, ten lines deep. As far as the eye could reach through fields of wheat, corn and clover that grand line was moving on.
I have no time for more. Write to me (at headquarters) as soon as you can. Alf is well.
