September 18, 1862
Dear Pops,
It’s Thomas Brown, your son. It is September eighteenth, at 5:00 am; the day after the battle of Antietam. I am writing to you from Sharpsburg, Maryland, where the battle was fought. At dawn we attacked General Lee’s left flank. Despite our great numerical advantage, confederate soldiers held their ground. Union attacks and confederate counter-attacks went back and forth across Miller’s cornfield and the West Woods. We had a temporary advantage in the morning when we dominated the Sunken Road. We fought hard for this key defensive position in the middle of the battlefield. Later in the day we pushed across a stone bridge over the Antietam Creek. We managed to compromise the Confederate right without too much difficulty, but A.P Hill’s division arrived in the nick of time and counter-attacked, saving the army of North Virginia. Lee used his entire force during this battle, and we used less than three-quarters of ours. In spite of crippling casualties, we fought through the night, and eventually Lee retreated with his men back to Virginia. No ground was gained from this battle.
It’s rough over here. Yesterday we lost 2,100 men, including my good friend William Moore. He was from Vermont, and one of the first people I met when I got drafted. He was kind to me, told me all would be alright. I told him the same as he died in the hospital bed. Nurses had to work so close to the battle that some were shot. 9,550 of our men are wounded from yesterday’s battle, and 750 of them are missing. I am one of the lucky ones, as I got out with just a few scratches and bruises. This battle has been hard on all of us. There were so many casualties, everyone has lost someone. I’ve seen so many awful things, and learned so much; I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same. Pa, I’ve killed so many men. I have caused unthinkable pain to so many families. How am I supposed to forgive myself for that? I know I am supposed to be a man, but when we march into battle I’m scared. It’s terrifying to think today may be my last. It pains me to know I may never see my family again. That I may never meet my newborn daughter.
I made a new friend a few months back. He has become one of my best friends. His name is James White, and he is from Maine as well. Luckily he was not wounded in our recent battle. I am extremely grateful for that. Maybe one day you will meet him. He’s got a family back in Maine near you all. They sound lovely. How is it back home, is all going well? Tell Ma and my sister Elizabeth that I send my love. How’s my lovely wife Hannah? Tell her my love for her is unimaginable and I am trying my best out here. Tell my boys Peter and Elias I love them. Make sure they help out during this hard time. How’s my little angel Susan? Have her first few weeks been well? Tell her I can’t wait to meet her. I will meet her, I’ll make it back, I have to. I miss you all dearly, stay strong.
Love, Thomas
P.s There is a button in the envelope that came off my uniform.