April 29, 1863
My Dearest Wife

    I am happy to report that I am alive and well and consider myself fortunate to be so after the recent skirmish here.  I am continuing to make due with the best that Richmond and Selma can send to me, which is, at best, just short of adequate.
     Throughout my stay here in this state, I have been witness to several small battles and skirmishes, all prompted by Federal attempts to capture and destroy interior supply lines or routes, or by Confederate attempts to retake the port cities. Most of my day is pent in the monotony of administrative paperwork, recruitment for our medical corps and the continued attempts to treat the diseases and conditions of our army with little to no supply.  All this to be tempered by the egos of the commanding officers, who sometimes seem to seek their own glory in face of the ravages and desolation of this war.
   All but gone is the initial spirit which so abounded two years ago.  I am having little to no luck with the recruitment of qualified medical personnel, as none are readily available.  The one element saving this army is the charity of the churches and communities who donate supplies and medicines which are so desperately needed by our men.
   Friday, I performed emergency surgery on two of our brave young men.  Although the details involving the first one are unclear, (he might have been shot by a local farmer), the second was shot near my tent by a federal scout.  Our Colonel was nearby, returning fire with his pistol that killed the Yankee intruder.  However, this was only the beginning as we found ourselves under attack the next day by a detachment of Brooklyn and Pennsylvania troops, obvious in their intent to destroy our camp and outpost.
   My dear, I cannot describe the carnage that I witnessed that day.  All that I saw was the inside of our hospital tent, crowded and surrounded with the dead and dying.  As soon as we could get a man off of the operating table, another was waiting to take his place.  We even performed surgery on the ground, out in the open, due to lack of room.  Our hospital became the refuge for Rebels and Yankees alike.  Ironic that we take such strides to destroy life on the field then ask our surgeons to save it.
    The fighting continued the next day, but the federal, cutoff from their supply lines as is often the case here in Florida, were unable to stand the repeated charges of our brave men.  They retreated in defeat to St. Augustine, there to regroup and resupply so that this bloody war can drag on further.
    As an officer, I can only hope for Lee to make a great invasion of the North, for that is about all that will bring about an end to this war. If President Lincoln can see our men in gray at his front door, then certainly he will yield to our demands for freedom and recognition. Meanstwhile, the heat, the monotony and the general melancholy of the troops stationed here make for a most home-sickening spirit.
   I do look forward to my return home to visit you and our son.  Give him a hug from me and remind him that the illusion of a glorious war is only that; for after three years of bloody fighting I have failed to see the glory so far, yet I have seen the illusion of it, that dream be it so prevalent in our time that lead men to forsake home and family at the risk of death. There is no glory here; only disease and death. I thank the Lord daily that I am not amongst those so afflicted. Please remember us in your prayers.

Your loving husband,
Sam