10 July, 1863
Not how I wished to spend my sixteenth year, not that any of us would wish this nightmare on another. I am recovering from a bullet wound I received on the last day of battle at Gettysburg.
I count myself fortunate in that I am still whole of body, while many others have not come through with all their appendages.
Not much else to do but think, and the woman of the house was gracious in giving me this journal and pen so I could write a few thoughts down. I will, with no doubt, go back to the beginning of this war to recount much of what has come to pass.
My own near death experience, followed by my own father's death in another battle, has urged me to write of my experiences.
If I am the only one ever to read this, so be it, but I do hope someday to pass this on to my children so they may see what life their father had.