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I took a walk about the stockade today our rations now are part bread and part beans and I trade my bread for beans or rather unclear stock peas and to this I ascribe my recovery to health. Wednesday August 17th "I read Psalms and went to sick call first to see how horrible it really is. And O my God! I pray that something may relieve this wretched mess." There were men with great gaping wounds in which maggots were working and flies continually annoying. Here were skeletons with hollow glaring eyes staring vacantly around, reason having fled. That meaningless look, who that has once beheld can ever forget. Here were men with limbs swollen with scurvy turned black and blue and rotting from their frames. Others naked and covered with sores. Here again between the dead line and stockade lay the dead who have been relieved from their sufferings within the last twenty-four hours. These sick and wounded are all turned back to die within this horrid den, then be tumbled carelessly into a trench with cold and brutal remarks over his grave. Northern mother, whose son perished