April 8, 1862

Dear Rose,                                                                                                            
     
 It’s been a while since I last wrote, and please forgive me, for I have been busy.  Yesterday I witnessed one of the worst scenes I’ve ever seen. I’m afraid that God’s plans did not include the Confederacy’s victory. There are times where you win and times when you loose. But if only I knew losing would come at such a great cost, dragging lives with it to pay the price. 23,000 to be exact, that’s how many people went  to the other world yesterday. God knows what’s going to become of us when we leave this place. I just wanted to let you know that I am fine physically although I can’t say the same for my mental health. Oh darling you can’t even begin to imagine the monstrosity my eyes endured yeasterday. I heard a fellow soldier, Corporal William Matthews is his name. He was talking about how it was one of the bloodiest battles we’ve witnessed as a nation. I just thank God that I made it out alive. I saw this one Yankee mercilessly shoot a friend in the head. The last thing I remember before I blanked out is seeing his eyes pleading, begging me for help. Asking for me to do something. That image keep repeating in my head. It follows me in my dreams. I’ve seen plenty of death, more than any man should witness at my age. But for some reason those eyes follow me. They  remind me that we have to win this war. I won’t forget why I’m fighting this war, because  slavery is a necessary evil. I’m doing this to defend our way of life. And I don’t mean to scare you when I’m telling you this. It’s just to remind you of our cause, and to let you know of how I’m doing. I imagine you must be worried. But don’t worry, I’ll come back home to you and my little boy. I love y’all and I’m doing this for y’all, for us.
       Yours truly,
        James