July 18, 1863

Dear Journal,                                                                                           

Every day is a challenge. The only reason I don’t just give up and leave is I hope the money I will soon send to my family will help them. They struggle with having enough money to buy food at home but it’s not any different here. I’m still eating hardtack and meats that I’d rather not know what they are. I wanted to disguise myself as a man and leave for war to help get money for my family, but I don’t know how long I can take this. I wish I could write to my dear husband James but as I’m still impersonating him, I don’t write in fear of getting caught and hogtied.  I’m currently in Fort Wagner, South Carolina and the smell of death is in the air. 

As I was on the battlefield it was quite obvious that the Confederate had much less casualties, while we were dropping like flies. The wall was huge and I thought there was no getting past it, some of us did, others didn’t. At one point I remember just shooting and not being able to tell who was a friend or a foe. I was marching one minute with my fellow soldiers then the next the air was filled with dust as bullets shot by my head. It was terrifying, not knowing if I’d make it out as a whole or just make it at all. My fingers still ache from loading my gun over and over and sleepless nights from trauma don’t help me gain my strength back. The only thing that keeps me from going insane is hope for being able to see my family again. As I go on with my journey in hiding, this one question always comes back to haunt me. What does this war change? It’s either I die or someone else does, one life for another. There will always be more wars just to traumatize people that fought and for others to remember. When I soon die I am certain it will be from losing hope to see my loved ones once again.