Dearest Laura: The Civil War Letters Of Captain John Reed Beatty, 1861-1865

By Peter Steffens

The authors of the letters in this collection were my great-grandparents Captain John Reed Beatty (Union) and Laura Elizabeth Maxfield. He wrote nearly 150 wartime letters to his "Dearest Laura" while soldiering in the Western Theater during the Civil War.

I am not yet aware of a larger collection of personal letters from the Civil War. By sheer numbers they naturally reflect more of daily life than battle. Unlike history books which jump timelines between battles, these letters provide a narrative which is exactly the opposite. Like broken mirror pieces, the letters once reassembled offer a true reflection of one soldier's complete wartime experience, and through that one, many others as well.

How many of us wish we could learn something exact of our forebears, especially during an important historical period? I decided to take on the daunting multi-year project of digitally transcribing these stacks of letters because I wanted to learn something of an ancestor's life directly, as well as contribute to the Sesquicentennial.

The original decaying letters and envelopes were donated by my mother Nancy to the Minnesota Historical Society and should not suffer any further deterioration. The copies she received in return were my source materials.

Captain Beatty had conflicted feelings between his love for Laura and his military duty and obligations. As he described it, he was “exiled from home on the march and in the bloody battle.” We read of his temptation to resign his commission and return home at Laura’s urging, but also his grim determination to see the fight through to its conclusion. I'm sure his love for Laura was the reason he wrote so many letters, it was a way for him to try to cling to normalcy as the chaotic war swirled around him.

Beatty’s military title was Captain of the Second Regiment, Minnesota Volunteer Infantry of the Union Army. Previous to the war he was a civilian, a school teacher in Mankato Minnesota. Laura and many of John’s regimental comrades were former pupils of his. In the letters we see his growth from a green civilian into an experienced veteran over time.

There is biographical information on Captain Beatty (including a photo in uniform) in the book “The Story of a Regiment” by Judson W. Bishop, Newell L. Chester, editor. It explains in detail the activities of the Minnesota Second Regiment during the war.

Captain Beatty was fortunate to survive the war. He suffered from two life-threatening fevers. At the Battle of Chickamauga his horse was shot dead from under him, and his next horse was shot and wounded as he conveyed battle information between the front lines and his commanders to the rear. Laura would have none of his assurances that he would survive the war; she could read the casualty lists in the newspapers as well as anyone.

As I was transcribing the letters, nothing struck me more than how very long that four year period of time must have felt for the war’s participants. When we study war history we jump months at a time between major events, conveniently skipping over all the arduous living that must be done in between. After reading these letters you will certainly have a better sense of having lived through the war vicariously.

It is my great pleasure to present these letters in a convenient digital format. Because of a shortage of paper during the war, there were two letters that were written first one way, and then written over in a checkerboard fashion, causing a nightmarish warp and woof to transcribe. You might say cursive caused curses.

I hope you will enjoy these wonderful letters. This updated version (2.0) now includes extensive handwriting samples for historical flavor, and a lowered price of only $0.99.

Prepared for the Sesquicentennial of the Civil War by Peter Steffens, digital transcriber, photographer, editor, and publisher.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Steffens
• Release date: Apr 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452425054

Book preview

Table of Contents

Forward

1861

July 1861

7/61—O Laura!

I Am Officer Of The Day Today

Mustered In

Try And Be Happy My Dear Girl

Minnehaha Falls

It Was A Terrible Fight

August 1861

8/61—Dress Parade

Playing It Alone

Touching The Cap

Battalion Drill

September 1861

9/61—They All Have Some Fever

Crust Coffee

I Wept Like Infancy

October 1861

10/61—Hurried Along Like Everything

Crowds Of People

Nothing But Tents

Late 1861

Late 61—A Stinking, Crowded Hospital

1862

January 1862

1/62—Burning With Fever

February 1862

2/62—Old House At Home

A Great Many Folks Come To See Me

The Long And Terrible March

Annie Laurie Variations

March 1862

3/62—We Lay To At Fort Donelson

The White Tents Of About 100,000 Men

We Teach Ourselves Not To Fear Death

The Hum Of Voices Outside

April 1862

4/62—Here We Are Camped On This Bloody Battlefield

We Got Our Pay Yesterday

May 1862

5/62—It Rained Torrents

June 1862

6/62—Evacuation Of Corinth

Repairing The Railroads

Writing While The Shells Were Falling

All Ruin And Desolation

July 1862

7/62—Spoiled That Speculation

How Many Thousands

An Appetite Like A Saw Mill

August 1862

8/62—It Is Very Horrible

Our Happiness In The Future

September 1862

9/62—We Have Had A Long Tramp

The Indians Will Get You One Of These Times

October 1862

10/62—We Were In That Fight At Perryville

November 1862

11/62—How They Do Swear

December 1862

12/62—Guard Duty

Crimson Plush Cover

1863

January 1863

1/63—We Have Stirring Times Just Now

When The Mail Comes In

Our Poor Country—How She Suffers

February 1863

2/63—Old Abe

I Did Not Wish To Love You

What A Dream It Furnished Me

March 1863

3/63—I Predict That African Slavery Is About At An End

The Shadow Of Your Dear, Familiar Face

The Outlandish Way I Popped The Question

April 1863

4/63—A Little Skirmish Now And Then

May 1863

5/63—It Was A Good Joke

June 1863

6/63—I Received Your Picture

Let Us Go Down On Some Gory Plain

July 1863

7/63—Ten Years Older In The Last Two

Hot Weather And Hard Crackers

August 1863

8/63—A Delegate From The U.S. Christian Commission

The Girls Are Just Wilting Away

I Am Bilious

When This Cruel War Is Over

September 1863

9/63—Fell Plumb Down

Dreary Exile

My Horse Was Killed Under Me

October 1863

10/63—Wounded In Every Conceivable Way

They Threw Shot And Shell Quite Freely

The Enemy Have Nearly Surrounded Us

The Men Are Now On Half Rations

November 1863

11/63—The Rebels Annoy Us Very Much

He Was Kind Of Heart Broken

Soured And Cross

December 1863

12/63—We Gained A Glorious Victory

I Am At Home

My Wild Western Girl

1864

January 1864

1/64—A Happy New Year To You

I Will Come If I Can Get Away

February 1864

2/64—Your Devoted Husband

April 1864

4/64—A Little Blue As Usual

Distance Sends Enchantment

The Muscatine

Nancy, She Has A Bad Cough

A Carnival Of Vice

Don’t Take Any Calomel Or Blue Pills

John, Mary Adair Is Very Much Hurt (Sarah)

I Was Foolish And Wicked Both

I Love The Old Flag

May 1864

5/64—If Your Suspicions Are Correct

The Great Battles Going On

All Alone In No. 29

Just Waiting For The Boat

Milwaukee

Apple Trees In Full Bloom

Sherman Has Johnston Surrounded

June 1864

6/64—One Of The First Generals Of The Age

Hoops Are A Great Thing

You Ought To See Me Perspire

A Few Particles Of Gold

War In Earnest Under Sherman And Grant

The Very Earth Seemed To Tremble

The Very Same Ditch

July 1864

7/64—Batteries Are Playing Quite Lively

We Laid Days And Nights In Our Trenches

Bread & Coffee, Roast Beans, And Desiccated Potatoes

A House With Quite A Number Of Young Ladies

I Go For Lincoln

We Are Busy Drilling Our Recruits & Conscripts

Our Army Stretches Around Atlanta On Three Sides

Had To Ride On The Top Of The Cars

Perhaps You Are Sewing On Some Baby Clothes

August 1864

8/64—I Just Laughed When I Finished This Last Letter

Exiled From Home On The March And In The Bloody Battle

A Scrap From A Paper

Dearest Husband, I Have Just Finished Ironing (Laura)

A Plaything For Baby

General Grant

Another Great Indian Excitement (Laura)

I Dreamed...We Had A Great Fat Boy (Laura)

There Is Considerable Artillery Firing

I Cleaned The Revolver All Up Myself (Laura)

I Think We Will Soon Have Atlanta

September 1864

9/64—Willard Has Been On Another Spree (Laura)

Atlanta Is Ours At Last!

I Wish They Could Be Born About A Year Old

Trying To Tear Him To Pieces With Twelve Pound Shells

Wouldn’t I Make A Rough Teacher Now

There Goes The Mail Call

You Must Not Borrow Trouble

October 1864

10/64—How I Would Like To Kiss You Five Hundred Times

I Had Been Marching For More Than A Week

The Suffering Of The People

I Have Risked My Life In The Terrible Storm Of Battle

Lincoln’s Election—We Consider It Sure

November 1864

11/64—You Must Be Strong And Have Good Courage

How Anxious I Will Be

I Could Not Get Away

I Am So Glad It Is A Boy

December 1864

12/64—The Fever Is Entirely Gone

You Must Get A Cradle

The Fighting Here Was Terrific

His Wound Is Quite Severe And Painful

How I Would Like To Hold Our Boy

1865

January 1865

1/65—You Had Injured Yourself Some By Lacing Too Tightly

Still Doing Duty On Court Martial

The Night Before He Died

As Fat As Anybody’s Baby

February 1865

2/65—I Have Put In My Resignation Once More

I Am Uneasy About Nannie

One Day We Marched 33 Miles (Kinsey)

He Looks Wonderfully Large For His Age

The Everlasting Hills Are The Same

Pension Records

TOC

Forward 3.0

The authors of the letters in this collection were my great-grandparents Captain John Reed Beatty (Union) and Laura Elizabeth Maxfield. He wrote nearly 150 wartime letters to his Dearest Laura while soldiering in the Western Theater during the Civil War.

I am not yet aware of a larger collection of personal letters from the Civil War. By sheer numbers they naturally reflect more of daily life than battle. Unlike history books which jump timelines between battles, these letters provide a narrative which is exactly the opposite. Like broken mirror pieces, the letters once reassembled offer a true reflection of one soldier's complete wartime experience, and through that one, many others as well.

How many of us wish we could learn something exact of our forebears, especially during an important historical period? I decided to take on the daunting multi-year project of digitally transcribing these stacks of letters because I wanted to learn something of an ancestor's life directly, as well as contribute to the Sesquicentennial.

The original decaying letters and envelopes were donated by my mother Nancy to the Minnesota Historical Society and should not suffer any further deterioration. The copies she received in return were my source materials.

Captain Beatty had conflicted feelings between his love for Laura and his military duty and obligations. As he described it, he was exiled from home on the march and in the bloody battle. We read of his temptation to resign his commission and return home at Laura’s urging, but also his grim determination to see the fight through to its conclusion. I'm sure his love for Laura was the reason he wrote so many letters, it was a way for him to try to cling to normalcy as the chaotic war swirled around him.

Beatty’s military title was Captain of the Second Regiment, Minnesota Volunteer Infantry of the Union Army. Previous to the war he was a civilian, a school teacher in Mankato Minnesota. Laura and many of John’s regimental comrades were former pupils of his. In the letters we see his growth from a green civilian into an experienced veteran over time.

There is biographical information on Captain Beatty (including a photo in uniform) in the book The Story of a Regiment by Judson W. Bishop, Newell L. Chester, editor. It explains in detail the activities of the Minnesota Second Regiment during the war.

Captain Beatty was fortunate to survive the war. He suffered from two life-threatening fevers. At the Battle of Chickamauga his horse was shot dead from under him, and his next horse was shot and wounded as he conveyed battle information between the front lines and his commanders to the rear. Laura would have none of his assurances that he would survive the war; she could read the casualty lists in the newspapers as well as anyone.

As I was transcribing the letters, nothing struck me more than how very long that four year period of time must have felt for the war’s participants. When we study war history we jump months at a time between major events, conveniently skipping over all the arduous living that must be done in between. After reading these letters you will certainly have a better sense of having lived through the war vicariously.

It is my great pleasure to present these letters in a convenient digital format. Because of a shortage of paper during the war, there were two letters that were written first one way, and then written over in a checkerboard fashion, causing a nightmarish warp and woof to transcribe. You might say cursive caused curses. Included are some pictures of this devilish weave.

I hope you will enjoy these wonderful letters. This updated version (3.0) still includes extensive handwriting samples for historical flavor, but also now a lowered price of only $0.99.

Prepared for the Sesquicentennial of the Civil War by Peter Steffens, digital transcriber, photographer, editor, and publisher.

TOC

Fort Snelling Minn.[1]

July 12th 1861

Dear Laura,

O Laura! How I would like to have a talk with you just now face to face! I have not said a word to a lady since I left home—nothing but men, strong unfeeling men.

It would do me so much good to have you talk to me in your kind, mild way. But I hope to see you some of these times, and then the joy will be greater on account of the absence.

I have recd no letters as yet from any one. We are getting along very well—not mustered in yet. I went down to Hastings day before yesterday, got back to-day about noon. It was a pleasant trip—went down on the Milwaukee, came up on the Star Eagle.[2] I wish the Captain was here, I think we could be mustered in immediately.[3]

Libby, I am doing pretty well I think. I refuse to drink and just do as I always do, indeed I feel more than usually serious. There is a responsibility upon me. For two nights now I have prayed to God to bless and protect my loved one. I hope that we may succeed, and that I may be enabled to do what is right. It may be of some satisfaction to you to know that I am quite popular among the men, and that I think I can by kindness to them bind them all to me, so that they would fight for me as they are accustomed to express it. I have not space nor time yet to tell you of our trip down the river. I wish you could see us here. Maybe you will come down. I can’t write much more now.

Good Bye, now. Try to enjoy yourself Libbie, keep your mind engaged on something useful. Please write me what you are reading & what you are learning. Don’t forget that I love you, and will see you as soon as possible. Give my best respects to Dora & Hus., your folks, & Hannas, also to George C. & my dear old Aunt. Please remember me to them all for I have not time to write, and believe me forever your

John

If we stay here till fall I’m coming up as soon as I get uniformed.

(Kiss Annie for me—Annie Maxfield I mean)

TOC

¼ to 10 O’cl.—July 13th 1861[4]

Libbie, I am Officer of the Day to-day, & will be up ‘till 1 or 2 O’cl. to-morrow morning on duty.[5] I was reading Harper’s Magazine and found this picture. I have cut it out & please find enclosed.

Libbie I suspect you are now asleep, dreaming perhaps.

Good-night, dear. Good n-i-g-ht.

P. S. This miserable pumpkin head—I scratched his eyes out—He was too good looking to represent me.[6]

________________________

Editor’s Note—this short letter was written in the top & right margins around an engraving, "Laura’s Fireside, on pg. 817 from Harper’s New Monthly Magazine" May 1861 Vol. 22 Issue 132. You may see this page online, where you can navigate to other pages in the magazine as well: http://digital.library.cornell.edu/cgi/t/text/pageviewer-idx?c=harp;cc=harp;rgn=full%20text;idno=harp0022-6;didno=harp0022-6;view=image;seq=827;node=harp0022-6%3A1;page=root;size=s;frm=frameset

TOC

Fort Snelling July 15th/’61

Dear Laura,

We are mustered in at last.[7] To-day about noon we were sworn in. Held up our hands & swore to support the Constitution, and fight if necessary. We had just 83 men, just enough. I am so glad that it is over. O you never saw such a worrying time as we had. Didn’t know what minute the whole thing would blow up, on account of the detention.

I have felt very bad for a few days, but it is all over now and let it go. I shall feel better soon.

I have stuck to this thing well, although some people think I never do. We have seen some pretty hard times since we left. You know that we shipped on Saturday at Saint Peter. Well, we go along pretty well until night. Then came the tug of war. We had no place to sleep but in the Cabin, & not half enough of Bunks for the boys. I lay down for awhile but could not sleep, got up and found many of the men without any accommodation. Went to the Clerk, got some blankets & gave them. I then went up on the H.-Deck to open the ventilators, found Nothrup up there (you know him, Jennie Parson’s old beau). He belongs to Capt. McKune’s Co. We sat down and talked over old times till nearly midnight. He then got a blanket & we lay down on the Hurricane deck without anything over us & fell asleep.[8] When I awoke I was nearly frozen and wet with dew. I couldn’t sleep any more. I went down to the Cabin and found the men strewn around every way, snoring heavily. They looked pretty hard. I thought a pity of the young fellows, the boys along. It seemed like putting them through a hard lesson.

Sabbath about 1 O’cl. we got here, I believe I have told you that before. I think I have not told you that the Officers & men have different quarters. We have very pleasant rooms for ourselves where we write & where we sleep. We also have a different place to eat & get some better fare, but the mess got good enough for any one when he is soldiering.

Libbie dear, I would like to hear from you. I have not heard a word from you yet. I was just thinking today that likely you are keeping school. It will not be near so convenient as if you were living in town. You must write often Libbie.

The men are all pretty well. Some have been complaining a good deal. You see, the supplies for this second Regt. have not come yet, and we have not enough of blankets. Some of the nights were cold & some of the men caught cold, & it made them wish they hadn’t come, for five of them deserted. I was afraid that the half of them would go, but I kept busy cheering them up & kindled fires in the quarters & we got through.

You will probably hear of a man named Franklin of Mankato who deserted the other morning. The night I was down at Hastings he came to our Quarters to sleep and fell downstairs and hurt his wrist. This with the cold made him feel very bad, & when I came home he was talking of leaving again. I doctored his wrist and took him down to our quarters and gave him a book to read. Very soon I noticed he was gone & went up to the quarters, & they told me he was gone out to drill. I thought he was getting along very well, but when they came in I asked for Franklin, and found that he had stayed behind. I sent Dave after him, but when he got out Franklin was about a quarter of a mile gone on the prairie putting in for dear life. I suppose he will have a hard story to tell when he gets back. He is a regular nobody. The others were Littlefield of S. Bend and two fellows from Blue Earth City, also a little German.

Now Good Bye my dear Libbie. Don’t forget me. Be a good girl, and be as happy as you can. You can be happy as a teacher if you will think of the result of your teaching. You can leave an impression on those young minds lasting an eternity. You can do much good in the world to them & through them to others, & on to the end of time. Be careful of your health Libbie. Now again dear, Good bye & believe me ever your

John

P. S. Please direct all your letters to this address,

John R Beattie

1st Lieut. Co. H

Fort Snelling

Minn.

TOC

Saint Peter July 24th 1861[9]

My Dear Laura,

Here I am (Wed. morning) at Saint Peter waiting for the boat. I did not start as soon as I expected. I heard that the Albany was coming up here last evening to start down this morning.[10] It has not come. I will probably start down to-day on the stage. Last night I stopped at Cleary’s, he is the same old fellow.

I am so sorry Libbie that I could not stay more with you. I think the next time I will take no one with me. I think I like you more than ever. You seemed so good to me, your efforts in going away up there to do something for yourself & for others makes me think more of you. Try and be happy my dear girl. I think that you will find that to be happy we must do something to make others better & happier. We should not live for ourselves alone, God never intended it to be so. Just think what you can do this summer. What an influence for good you can exert over the minds of your little school. As rational and immortal creatures we should be active workers in some way for the benefit of our race. Such consideration will sustain you perhaps in your self-sacrificing labors.

This is a miserable letter, this is all the paper Cleary has.

Good bye, Libbie dear, I love you. Ah! I love you my dear. Be a good girl. Oh, won’t you be good Libbie & pray for me when I am away. There is a God Libbie, a merciful God who will keep you if you ask him. I will ask him to keep you.

I have forgotten what you said to me that eve. I know you love me, and for you to think that I do not love you is painful to me, & must be horribly painful to you. Don’t think so. Good bye, think of me, and believe that I am your own John.

John R. Beattie

P. S. Please excuse the miserable scribbling.

TOC

Fort Snelling July 26th/’61

________________________

Editor’s Note—34 Star U.S. Flag letterhead.

Dear Laura,

I think now I am done running around for awhile. I arrived here yesterday about noon—came from St. Peter to Shakopee in stage—had a hard ride—stayed over night & took the boat yester-morning for this place. I then went to St. Paul yesterday eve, stopped over night & came up this forenoon. Now I think I will stop a few days.

I went to St. Paul yesterday evening by way of St. Anthony & passed Minnehaha Falls. When I stood looking at the falls I wished that you were there, & wondered if you ever saw them. I thought that perhaps you had visited them in some of your excursions. It, or they (which is it), I will say the sight is magnificent & sublime. I went down & stood a little distance below the falls, & the spray would have drenched me in a very short time. They are beautiful. If you never saw them I wish that you may sometime. St. Anthony & Minneapolis are pretty. Built on high ground & interspersed with small trees giving the place a decidedly rural aspect.

The Army of the East has had some hard fighting, but is not as badly beaten as at first reported. Ah! They will have some terrible fight, my, but we can whip them. The 1st Minna. Regt. had a chance in the fight & behaved well. There are forty reported killed of the 1st Regt. Wikoff is said to be to have been killed. Capt. McKune, who went down the river from Ridgely with us when we came down is among the killed. Poor Fellow. Just fifteen day after he left the Fort he was killed. He was a fine old fellow & in high spirits when he went down.

I am well my dear Libbie, & I do hope you are. You looked bad that morning I left. Take good care of your health & do nothing to injure it. Much depends on the state of your mind. Be cheerful & hopeful.

Excuse my bad writing, I write in a hurry. Give my best respects to Mrs. Conrad. I do not care if you tell her that we expect to (getbe) married sometime. It does me good to think you love me. Don’t forget me, & I will love you my dear. Good bye. I will think of you my own Libbie, & will always consider myself your John.

P. S.

What a plain old name.

Libbie couldn’t you make

me one, a new one, I am

tired of that old one.

John R. Beattie

TOC

Snelling

Sunday Eve. July 28th/’61

My Dear Libbie,

Where are you now? The shadows of evening are falling here and I am alone in my room. O how I wish you were here. I am sore tired, I have worked hard all day, Sunday as it is. I am acting Adjutant at this Post. I tell you I am getting promotion a little too fast. I have to study day and night, but this appointment only lasts for a few weeks.

I could have been Quartermaster of the Regt., but I would not accept it as it would only give me ten Dollars per month additional pay & keep me nearly all the time away from the Co. Let them go along, I am well enough satisfied with Lieut. S. D. Parsons will probably be Quartermaster’s Sergt.

But enough of this. How do you get along? My own dear Libbie? (bad punct–) O it is too bad! I wish that I could hear your voice Libbie. I like your voice & I like your laugh. I do like to hear a lady laugh a human laugh. I wish I could see you. I guess I would think you were getting pale, or that you were sunburnt, or that you looked dim out of your eyes, or something else—you know I always think something is wrong with you. Do the young ones trouble you much? Are the Musketoes bad? Where are you boarding now?

Pshaw! I must stop, it seems to me that you should ans. me. You must write me all such silly things, & also how Annie is getting along.[11] You know I like Annie, some! This interj[ection] didn’t mean anything. I do, partly because you do. Don’t you feel like liking those I like? Poor Annie! I am afraid she will not like it at all up there.

There is no connection in this letter. Please pardon, & let me finish as I have begun. I must tell you that I am quite well now. Fere tip, top,...[12] Libbie, I had to stop at tip top, for the Officer of the Day came in for the Parole & Countersign for to-night. I will give them to you, & if you could come down to-night you could pass the guard.

Parole—McDowell—

Countersign—Manassas—

When the guard changes you give him whichever he asks for, & you can get in.

The boys are all well except one (Liscom[,] George), and he is getting better. I hope you are well, I would not like to hear of your being sick.

I nearly forgot the big battle, you will hear all by the papers.[13] It was a terrible fight. The Minna 1st Regt. did gloriously. They fought well. They will do to bet-on, but Ah! how they suffered. There are a good many heavy hearts for it. Peace to the ashes of the brave fellows who fell.

Good bye now my dear girl. Do not grieve for me. I will get along very well, although I say it myself. I stand well here & will soon have plenty of friends. Good bye. Don’t forget me Libbie, and write often, very often to your

John

TOC

Ft. Snelling

July 32 or Aug 1st/’61

My Dear Libbie,

For a few days I have been writing considerable & used to writing July, you notice my mistake. Confound it! It takes nearly a full letter to explain.

O Libbie, I wish you were somewhere where you could write to me oftener. Just now seems to me the worst time. I have recd only that one letter from you my dear, not one from home.

I have been very busy since I came back. Soon after I came the Col. appointed me Adjutant. I do not know why, for I know very little about Military matters, but old fellows seem to take a fancy to [me]. I told him I was not fit to act but he said I could learn, so you see I have to study. I should say this appointment is only temporary.

I wish you were here some evening at the time of Dress Parade. I command the whole battalion then. I have no sword of my own but use Capt. Dick’s. Mine has not come in yet. I got Military hat cap, pants & coat. I stay most of the time at Hd. Quarters.

We have a good many visitors. I had a nice little talk with a young lady from Chicago to-day (There are a good many visitors from below in St. Paul now.) I was at the table in the office writing, the Col. & visitors in the Hall. They came into my room & looked at some pictures on the table. When after some conversation she wanted to know if I was Col. of the Regt., & if I had ever been to war before. To the last I ans. no, but told her I was going now sure.

You must please excuse my bad writing for it