Washington, June 6th, 1864.
Dear wife,
I did not finish my letter yesterday, so will write a little more today. You ask me about the length of time I must serve. I feel a little delicacy about talking to anyone about what I have not got, but it is this way, it is for life or during good behavior, but there is no doubt but I can get out of it at any time I can give a good excuse for resigning it is the same as in the volunteer service. The government is not obliged to receive a resignation, but they do it. I should not feel like resigning during my term of service if the war lasts. If it does not last, I shall, but I must get my commission first. I think then I shall have you with me if it is a possible thing. It will depend upon where I may be, if in a fort then you can be with me, if in the field, I shall not try it. You speak of my coming home. If I get my commission, I shall try to come home, if not, I cannot come home until the campaign is over. Shall have to wait sometime for the commission if I pass, as there are several officers ahead of the recruits now, some thirty captains and I do not know how many first and second lieutenants. The recruiting among the colored population is slow now. They are trying to do something in kentucky. They are doing pretty well in Maryland yet, and there are a good many contrabands coming from the neighborhood of Richmond now. It will depend upon the success of Grant and Sherman. Georgia is full of negroes. They have been taken there from all quarters. If Sherman takes Atlanta, he will have command of Georgia and there will only be South Carolina left, where the negroes will be safe from the Yankees, but this is dry stuff. I hope I shall have a chance to talk it all over with you, but at the present time I cannot say when, but as soon as I can see out I shall let you know.
Emery Clough is not in the hospital. He is well, and ready to go back. I saw Jacob yesterday. He has had to work very hard since the wounded were brought in, says that he had rather run the risk of getting shot than to stay where he is, but he cannot go to the front again, he has got a rupture on to him. That will prevent his doing any more hard marching with a knapsack, but he is well, and able to work hard. I shall have to leave my overcoat and dress coat with Jacob. He is going to send them home soon. I shall not want an overcoat or dress coat with me. I am going to carry as light a knapsack as possible. Jacob is going to draw a blouse for me and a pair of shoes. I have written to George Spafford to hunt up my things and send them to father by express. I carried that basket of strawberries up to Carver yesterday, and how glad those poor boys were. There are a few in each ward that are pretty low. They all bless Mrs. Baxter. One man told me that those were the first strawberries that he had tasted for three years, he was low but doing well. The hospitals look much better than they did when I first went into them. There are a few beds in each ward that keep their occupants all day, but most of them get out now. Many of them are ready to go back and “try it again.” This is the third letter that I have written today, one to Chester Carpenter about Chester Wheeler Alden’s son, and one to George Spafford.
Yours in love,
Charles.
