October 7, 1863

On the 20th of September there was no hope of coming out alive. I lay a long time by a stump by the side of a dead Rebel and fired on the enemy. That day I shot about one hundred shots, and many others shot more. We all filled our bags with that we took away from the dead and wounded, and used the Rebels’ ammunition.

It has been quiet yesterday and today. Yesterday we shot two shots with a cannon but got no reply, but the enemy is still holding its place, but we are now not so scared of them.

These last days we have gotten many large cannons, but we have not too much ammunition for them yet, for they shoot thirty to sixty-five pounds each shot.

It is now ten o’clock in the morning but much too cold to write. I can hardly hold my pen.

Today it is the 8th of October. Last night I went over to Peder and have been with him all night and will be with him until there is a change. He is very sick. I am afraid that he will die. I will do all that is in my power for him. I think that I will be allowed to stay with him, but it isn’t easy.