nished the subject of conversation to-day and happily
"grape-vine" is forgotten. The inebriated look very sheepish and ashamed
to-day. Well they might. Seven thousand bales of hay were destroyed
yesterday. $250,000 to $500,000 of property destroyed in all. Eight
lives lost. One woman broke both arms, many soldiers wounded.

[Sidenote: 1865 The Soldier and Reviews]

Chattanooga, Sunday, June 11. Sultry and oppressive weather. Rain still
keeps at a distance. The day has passed very quietly. It was with
difficulty that I managed to scribble a sheet to Sister Hannah. Read
several old numbers of Cincinnati _Commercial_ giving glowing accounts
of the grand reviews at Washington, a brilliant thing I have no doubt,
but I rather think unpleasant to the soldier. If the lookers-on thought
of how the soldier boy would return to camp to munch his "hard-tack" and
"sow belly" notwithstanding he has finished up the rebellion, while the
pleased spectator returned to his hot biscuit and et ceteras--fewer
flowers and more good eating, I say.

Chattanooga, Monday, June 12. On guard since last night. Sat quietly in
the shade and listened tamely to the wild reports flying, although
nobody, except a few yearlings, believed any of them. It is amusing to
see what keen interest the arrival of an orderly or the sight of an
official envelope excites amongst us. The fact of it is, one day of
"muster-out talk" and idleness with apparent uselessness to the
government, will create more homesickness than a year of war and active
service.

Orders directing us to clean harness, etc., preparatory to turning over.
Inspection announced at 2 P. M. Camp swept, clothes brushed and buttons
polished, then it was postponed to 6:30 P. M. Rained, but it stopped
long enough to be inspected by Captain Nicklin, assistant inspector
general, known better in camp as "Jack o' Clubs", not liked too well.

Chattanooga, Tuesday, June 13. Rained a refreshing shower through the
night and I slept very sound. Several squads out blackberrying. They are
getting ripe. I forgot to tell you that we had blackberry pie last
night. One-year men and we '62 recruits are getting wrathy. The orders
that reach all other commands except the reserve ought to take us, we
think, mustering out all men where term of service expires prior to
October 1. One of our boys saw the General to-day. But who cares. I am
not so badly excited over this matter, but that I can rest well.

Chattano