Rowe getting very bad. Sanders ditto. Am myself much worse,
and cannot walk, and with difficulty stand up. Legs drawn up like a triangle,
mouth in terrible shape, and dropsy worse than all. A few more days. At my
earnest solicitation was carried to the gate this morning, to be admitted to
the hospital. Lay in the sun for some hours to be examined, and finally my turn
came and I tried to stand up, but was so excited I fainted away. When I came to
myself I lay along with the row of dead on the outside. Raised up and asked a
rebel for a drink of water, and he said: “Here, you Yank, if you ain't dead,
get inside there!” And with his help was put inside again. Told a man to go to
our mess and tell them to come to the gate, and pretty soon Battese and Sanders
came and carried me back to our quarters; and here I am, completely played out.
Battese flying around to buy me something good to eat. Can't write much more.
Exchange rumors.
SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p.
89-90
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