To my Dearest Lover, 

Yesterday was momentous. It was the first big battle of the war, and we aren’t far from Washington DC. Just 25 miles. Just 25 miles to go till the war is won. But the casualties were numerous. I saw uncountable numbers of people fall to the ground on both sides of the battlefield, and even though the yankees lost 2800, we the confederates lost 1900. Less, but still a considerable amount of men. We fought between Fairfax and Prince William counties. 

Even though we won, it felt like a loss, because of my close friend Samuel. We were very close, and shared a tent. Yesterday, July 26, 1861, We were fighting side by side, and the northerners were making their last stand. A yankee shot at me but just missed. It did find a target though. The ribs of sam. I saw this, and fired at the attacker, but he was already struck down by a stray fire. My heart ached with this injustice. I couldn’t even avenge my friend.

All this death makes me think that the war is pointless. Every yankee I shot could have been someone’s Samuel. They could have been loved. What is the point of this war anyway? People are dying, but why? Couldn’t they just come to an agreement? Why isn’t the President just in charge? If he was the sole ruler, couldn’t he just set the rules, and have no one question his authority. But things are how they are. War goes on, more sams die, and seems incredibly hopeless. Hopefully the war will end soon, and we will march on Washington as planned. 

Overall, the Battle at Bull Run was big for everyone. Some of the other men at camp are predicting this war will have many like it, but I hope it is not the case. The camp felt empty, even though only a sixteenth of our men were lost. I fear the yankees are prepared for our assaly, and I have seen the vigor in which they fight with.

I hope I can return to you soon,

John Baker