Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 29.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

[290] little bags from his pockets. ‘I thought maybe you rebs would like to have a little coffee,’ he continued, ‘and my mess in that pit over there just clubbed in and sent you this,’ and he handed over the coffee. Coffee! Why, I hadn't had a smell of it for months. We invited the Yank into our parlor (rifle pit), made him sit down, and then we filled his pipe, and that made his eyes sparkle. He had coffee and we had tobacco, and little else besides; and when that Yank returned to his chums he carried some with him. It's pretty tough to have to shoot such good fellows. There are a good many of us who believe this shooting match has been carried on long enough. A government that has run out of rations can't expect to do much more fighting, and to keep on is a reckless and wanton expenditure of human life. Our rations are all the way from a pint to a quart of cornmeal a day, and occasionally a piece of bacon large enough to grease your palate.

February 5—About 10 o'clock to-day the brigade received marching orders, and moving to the right, was joined by heavy bodies of troops, when the whole crossed the breastworks and marched quietly along between the two picket lines for some distance, when the Federal skirmishers were attacked and driven in, and an assault made upon their works; and, although maintained with great vigor, was repulsed with heavy loss. The two other assaults by fresh troops met with no better success. We then retired, leaving most of our dead and wounded on the field. In this engagement, among others of our battalion who fell, was poor Lieutenant Charles Hodges, commanding Company C. He halted for a moment in the charge to unbuckle the belt of one of his boys who had fallen wounded, when he was shot through the head.

February 24—Desertions from our brigade and division are very numerous, the men leaving their posts in squads. Much dissatisfaction prevails, and not without cause. For months we have been in the trenches with scarcely food enough to sustain life, and we are in a state of nudity, while the weather has been intensely cold. If I wasn't one of them my heart would bleed for the gaunt, shivering wretches all around me; but misery loves company. As yet there has been but one desertion from our battalion, a fellow named Porter, and there will not be another.

March 27—Fighting has been going on for the past two days along our front south of Petersburg, and it is evident the crisis is approaching. In the series of engagements the enemy has been successful,