Sunday, July 23, 1864

Dearest Beatrice, 

I am counting the days since I have seen you, James, and my sweet little Anna. It has been years since I have seen your faces. I think about you every single day. Right now I am in a tent near Atlanta, Georgia. I have been here since the morning of the 21st. Yesterday we fought the Confederates once again. I don’t think it’s over, the war is gruesome. No one has a heart when we go to fight. When you go to the battlefields it is every man for themselves.  I am sad to say I have been wounded in the foot. My dear friend Samuel who has fought with the Union since the summer of 1861 is taking care of me. The doctors tell me I will have to have my leg amputated. This is not the shape I want to be in right now but, I have hope. I have hope of coming back to New York. I miss the old days.

This war is pointless; it doesn’t accomplish anything. I have seen so many innocent men die who don’t even believe in this silly war. They have families. I can’t imagine never seeing you again. It would be heartbreaking. I want to see our children grow up. The confederates won’t stop. I do want all slaves to be free and have their deserved rights but is this war doing anything for them? 

Even though my foot is not doing well I am imagining the moments of the war ending. The moments where I can see you and our dear family. Samuel and I have been sharing our hopes and dreams of the future. Being a soldier is depressing and dull but I keep my spirits up and eat every day to be strong. I have to go to sleep. We don’t know when the confederates will strike again. I will keep thinking of you, James, and Anna.

Sincerely,

Your dearest Frank.