I got the board and played several games with him, but not being an adept at the work, of course he beat me every time. He would pause to rest, and his features would often contract with the heavy throb of pain, and his breathing was a difficult labor. Yet he let no complaint fall from his lips.
He wished me to write to his friends that he had died for his country, and was willing, and that his last hours were spent in thoughts of them. He died peacefully not long after he had finished the last game, and thus early life's story was told for him.
I could not keep my tears back from my eyes when I covered the face of the young dead, and left him in his peaceful slumber.
Captain Lee, of the One Hundred and Eleventh Pennsylvania Volunteers, was brought in, bayoneted through the right leg, and suffered the most intense agony. He was delirious nearly all the time, but in his rational moments talked of his wife, and sustained the cause in which he was suffering, and was so sure that success would crown the efforts of our noble general.
He died, and a sister came for his coffined remains, bearing them back in sadness to the lonely-hearted wife, in her desolate home.
A Lieut. Dupree, from a Rhode Island regiment, came in badly wounded, also in the leg, and for two days and nights the nurses relieved each other, as they sat with fingers pressed on the severed artery, to keep the life-blood from ebbing away till his wife could reach him.
