The gun-boats are lying off here to protect us, in case we are disturbed by the rebels, which I think is very improbable. They know we have wounded men from their own ranks with us, and we should be no great spoil.
March 29.
The weather continues pleasant, and the men seem to be doing well. We have lost none to-day. I have many things to try my patience. The doctor gives me orders to get things for the sick from the cook-house, and when I go after them I hear mutterings and growlings, and am denied often, while the sufferer has to go without the coveted article of food.
I wish I could order an evacuation of that post by some certain ones. I think I would institute a new order of things without much delay.
A terrible battle must be raging at the front; we hear the cannonading like near thunder, and the battle is so close we can hear the cheering of the men as they go to the wild charge. I went to bed, but not to sleep; visions of horrors too dark to portray haunted my mind, and when sleep wooed me, the vivid fancy brought sounds of stifled groans and cries issuing from lips growing cold on the clay before Petersburg, and roused me to full consciousness again.
Our steward, and the steward of the Third Regiment Maryland Volunteers, made me a call in the evening, and after retiring, I arose, and wrote a letter, finding it impossible to sleep with my mind so overwrought.
