June 5, 1864.
The Rebels run last night. Everything gone this morning slick and clean. Our regiment was the first in their works. I was over their works to-day and find three lines, two of them very strong. A number of dead men lay beween their lines and ours, which neither side could bury. They were killed during Hooker’s fight of May 25th.
Well, I expect another heat like this at the Chattahochie river and when we get them out of there, as we are bound to do, ho! for easy times!
My health continues excellent, and I hope it will until this campaign is over. I am making up for some of my easy times soldiering. The Rebels were awful dirty and the smell in their camps dreadful.
We got some 25 prisoners in front of our division. I think one more big stand will wind the thing up. They made no noise whatever in getting away. I was from 12 to 3 o’clock in the night working within 75 yards of them and did not hear them at all. At one place their works ran through a graveyard, and they had torn down all the palings inclosing graves, to make beds for themselves, and unnecessarily destroyed everything of beauty around. I am sure we would not have done so in our own country, and would not anywhere. I don’t give these Rebels half the credit for humanity or any of the qualities civilized beings should possess, that I used to. I estimate loss of our army here at 7,000—killed, wounded and missing. It may be more. Heavy reinforcements are arriving though, and the strength of the army is much greater than at any time heretofore. Spirits excellent. I could tell some awful stories of dead men, but forbear. We moved at 9 a.m. about four and one-half miles toward the railroad and have gone into camp for the night.
This is the first day since May 26th that I have been out of the range of Rebel guns, and hardly an hour of that time that the bullets have not been whistling and thumping around. I tell you it is a strain on a man’s nerves, but like everything else that hurts, one feels better when he gets over it.