Some Observations by Alexander G. Downing

BROTHERS IN COMPANY E.

Twelve families are represented in Company E by two brothers each, and one by three brothers. John W. and Samuel Albin — John W. slightly wounded June 15, 1864, on the skirmish line on Noon-day creek, Kenesaw Mountain in Georgia. Robert and William Alexander —William killed on the skirmish line June 15, 1864, on Noon-day creek at the foot of a spur of Kenesaw Mountain. John M. and Sylvester Daniels — John M. received a wound on one hand at Shiloh April 6, 1862, and was discharged for disability on October 13, 1862. John W. and William Dwiggans — William died of typhoid fever December 28, 1861, and John W. died from wounds received at Shiloh May 7, 1862. John W. and William Esher — John W. was severely wounded June 25, 1864, at Kenesaw Mountain and discharged for disability March 20, 1865. Allen and Carlton Frink — Carlton killed at Shiloh April 6, 1862. Dean and John Ford — John had his right thumb shot off at Vicksburg and then slightly wounded on the skirmish line June 15, 1864, on Noon-day creek, Kenesaw Mountain. Ezra and Samuel McLoney — Ezra killed at Shiloh April 6, 1862. Francis and Reuben Niese — Reuben died March 2, 1865, in McDougal's Hospital near New York City. Ebenezer and James Rankin. Burtis H. and James K. Rumsey — James K. died at Chattanooga, Tennessee, February 2, 1865. George W. and Wilson Simmons — George W. wounded at Shiloh April 6, 1862, and died of his wounds May 12, 1862; Wilson died of lung fever April 15, 1862. Daniel, George and Henry Sweet — George killed in battle July 22, 1864, near Atlanta, Georgia; Henry L. died of fever in the Division Hospital in Tennessee, May 4, 1862.

CASUALTIES IN COMPANY E.

Killed in action, 11. Died of wounds, 4. Died of disease, 14. Discharged for disability, 15. Taken prisoners, 6. Deserters, 4. Absent on account of sickness for short periods, 52. Absent on account of slight wounds, 31. Total casualties, 117, or a fraction over 82 per cent of the 142 men in the company during the four years' service. There were those who were sick and marked not fit for duty, yet who did not leave the company, and there were others slightly wounded who likewise did not leave the company. Then, there were those, who for the same causes, had to go to the hospitals and be absent from the company for weeks at a time. The regimental surgeon would examine all cases, and it was left to his decision as to what a man had to do.

CROCKER'S IOWA BRIGADE.

Crocker's Iowa Brigade was composed of the Eleventh, Thirteenth, Fifteenth and Sixteenth Infantry Regiments. The regiments enlisted in the months of September and October, 1861, and were organized into a brigade April 27, 1862. There were in all 6289 enlisted men in the brigade.

The regiments had the following numbers, rank and file:

Eleventh	1297
Thirteenth	1788
Fifteenth	1767
Sixteenth	1441

The record of re-enlistments in the different regiments at Vicksburg, Mississippi, January, 1864, is as follows:

Eleventh	420
Thirteenth	450
Fifteenth	440
Sixteenth	415

The casualties numbered 4773, or seventy-six per cent of the strength of the brigade. The record of the officers and men who died during the war is as follows:

	Killed in battle	Wounded	Died of wounds and disease	Total dead
Eleventh	90	234	148	238
Thirteenth	117	313	176	293
Fifteenth	140	416	231	371
Sixteenth	101	311	217	318
	448	1274	772	1220

The miles traveled in marching during the war are, by years:

	By land	By boat and railroad
1862	495	581
1863	470	651
1864	1979	1660
1865 (to July 24)	1622	440

This makes a total of 4566 miles traveled by land and 3332 miles by boat and railroad, with a grand total of 7898 miles.

BATTLES ENGAGED IN BY CROCKER'S BRIGADE.

1862.

Shiloh, Tenn., April 6th.

Advance on Corinth, Miss., April 28th to May 30th.

Iuka, Miss., September 19th, 20th.

Corinth, Miss., October 3d, 4th.

Waterford, Miss., November 29th.

1863.

Lafayette, Tenn., January 2d.

Richmond, La., January 30th.

Siege of Vicksburg, May 20th to July 4th.

Oakridgetown, La., August 27th.

Monroe, La., August 29th.

1864.

Meridian, Miss., February 24th.

Big Shanty, Ga., June 10th.

Noon-Day Creek, Ga., June 15th.

Brushy Mountain, Ga., June 19th.

Kenesaw Mountain, Ga., June 27th to July 1st.

Second Advance on Nick-a-Jack Creek, Ga., July 3d, 4th, 5th.

Advance on Atlanta, Ga., July 20th.

Charge on Bald Hill, Ga., July 21st.

Battle of Atlanta, Ga., July 22d.

Ezra Church, Ga., July 28th.

Advance on Atlanta, Ga., August 3d.

Before Atlanta, Ga., August 3d to August 16th.

Atlanta & Montgomery R. R., Ga., August 28th.

Jonesboro, Ga., August 31st to September 1st.

Flynt Creek, Ga., September 1st.

Lovejoy Station, Ga., September 2d.

Fairburn, Ga., October 2d.

Snake Creek Gap, Ga., October 15th.

Savannah, Ga., December 10th to 21st.

The battles from June to September are known as the Siege of Atlanta. During this period of eighty-seven days Crocker's Brigade was under fire eighty-one days.

1865.

Garden Corners, S. C, January 14th.

River Bridge, Salkahatchie Swamp, S. C, February 2d.

Big Salkahatchie Swamp, S. C, February 3d.

North Edisto River, S C, February 9th.

Columbia, S. C, March 3d.

Fayetteville, N. C, March 11th.

Bentonville, N. C, March 20th, 21st.

Raleigh, N. C, April 13th.

INTEMPERANCE IN THE ARMY.

Intemperance in the army during the war was the cause of much disturbance, and, to the men using intoxicating liquors, it was a curse. Men who were good men when sober, became, when intoxicated, regular demons. There were more men ordered bucked and gagged by officers for drunkenness than any other cause, and that just for the reason that a drunk man will talk or fight.

The only trouble I had with any of the boys in my company was at Louisville, Kentucky, just before we were mustered out. One of the boys came back to camp from the city so drunk that he could hardly walk. I was out in front of my “ranch,” cleaning my rifle and accouterments, and, as I was the first man he happened to see upon his return, he was ready for a fight at once. I, of course, kept out of his way and soon a number of other boys came out, captured him, took him to his “ranch” and tied him to a post. There he remained till he “cooled off.”

HARDSHIPS OF WAR.

Some people think that being in a battle is all there is to war. While experience in battle is a dreadful thing, it is by no means the only hardship in war. Here are some of the hardships and dangers aside from being under fire: in a field hospital; suffering from wounds or from any of the many diseases to which a soldier is subject; on long marches, sometimes for days and even nights at a time, or on picket line for a day and a night without sleep; in rain or snow, and that without protection, or perhaps in digging trenches all night for protection the next day, or in remaining in the rifle pits for days and nights at a time, and in addition, drinking stagnant water, thus causing fevers; then for days and weeks at work, building heavy fortifications, and besides all at times on short rations, when an ear of corn would be a Godsend — these are some of the many hardships. But above all things, starving to death in a Southern prison required more courage than going into any battle fought during the Civil war.

MY PAY FROM THE GOVERNMENT.

While in the army, I received as my pay, $700.00, as bounty money, $500.00, and for clothing, $40.00, making a total of $1,240.00. Besides this I received from the State of Iowa, $24.00.

Privates received $13.00 per month to May 1, 1864, after which time they received $16.00. Sergeants received $22.00 per month.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 298-302

Autobiography Of Alexander G. Downing.

I first saw daylight early on Monday morning, the 15th day of August, 1842, in a log house of one room, on the northeast corner of block 14, in the town of Bloomfield, Green county, Indiana. My father at that time had a small tanyard on said block of land, but had to give up the tanning business finally, on account of quicksand in the well from which he drew the water to fill his tanning vats. My father and his twin brother came from West Virginia¹ in their boyhood days and located at Salem, Indiana. While living there they learned the tanner's trade. Their father, my grandfather, came from Ireland when a young lad and later served his adopted country in the Revolutionary War. After the war he settled in Virginia. My mother was from North Carolina and was of English ancestry. She died when I was almost two years old, and my only sister died six months later. In 1846 my father married again and moved upon an eighty-acre farm two miles east of Bloomfield, which became the first family homestead. There my five half-brothers were born. Our combined ages are, on this 14th day of June, 1914, 396 years, while our combined time in Iowa is three hundred and sixty years.

I attended school two summers, during the last two years we lived in Indiana. It was in a log schoolhouse, located in heavy timber. It had no floor, nor even a window, though there was a small hole in one side of the building to give light when the door was shut. The door was made of split staves, and hung by wooden hinges; the accustomed latch-string was on the outside. There was not a nail in the entire building. I attended my first Sunday School at this schoolhouse, my cousin being the superintendent. He gave me a Sunday School book, the reading of which at that time of my boyhood days has guided me to this day in living the better life.

In May, 1854, father pulled up stakes and left for Iowa. We had one team of horses and three yoke of oxen, with two wagons loaded with the family bedding, clothes and utensils, besides enough dried fruit to last two years. We also took along a small herd of young cows and heifers.

It was my lot to drive those cattle. I was in my twelfth year and with the one hired man walked the whole way, driving the herd. I had just received from my uncle a new pair of boots for the journey; but those boots almost proved my undoing. My uncle had bought our eighty-acre farm, upon which was a ten-acre field of fall wheat, having been sown in the standing corn. He told me that if I would cut the stalks he would buy me a new pair of boots for our journey. That spring I went at the job with father's old iron hoe, which had a dogwood handle, and whacked down that ten acres of cornstalks, earning my boots. On our way to Iowa we encountered so much rain and water that the boots became so shrunken and stiff I could scarcely get them on and off; I had to leave them on for days at a time. The result was that my feet became very sore and calloused, and to this day I have a callous place on the bottom of one foot caused by the pegs in those boots.

We crossed the Mississippi river at Davenport, Iowa, on Sunday morning, June 11, 1854. It was a hot, foggy morning, but soon clouded over and by the next day we had to travel in a cold, all day, northeastern rainstorm. In all we were on the road twenty-two days, and we had rain at some time during the day for eighteen of those days.

Father had come to Iowa in the fall of 1852 and had entered two hundred and forty acres of land eight miles east of Tipton, the county seat of Cedar county. After he had the land surveyed he bought forty acres more, of timber land, four miles distant. Here he cut forks and poles for the frame and then went to Davenport for the lumber with which to build our shanty to live in during the summer. Davenport was thirty miles distant, and it took him three days with an ox team to make the trip.

In the latter part of the summer I had to drive the three yoke of oxen hitched to a breaking plow while the hired man held the plow handles, to break twenty acres of prairie. The grass and blue stem were so high and always so wet that I never thought of being dry until in the afternoon. There were so many rattlesnakes that I had to wear those “store” boots all that summer, to protect my feet. While the hired man and I were breaking prairie, father was building our house, a one and one-fourth story building, into which we moved some time in November. He also built a sod stable, covering it with slough grass. Besides this, he with the help of two hired men cut and stacked about sixty tons of the blue stem for hay. We built a rail fence around the stacks and then during the winter, we threw the hay over the fence to feed the cattle.

The two hired men we had were both from Indiana and late in the fall they went back, as they were afraid of freezing to death in Iowa. Our first winter, though, was not bad; in fact, it was one of the finest winters I have ever seen in Iowa, and I have now (1914) seen sixty of them in the State. The nearest schoolhouse was four miles away and overcrowded at that, so I received no schooling that winter. Father would go to the timber every day with Ben and Head, a faithful yoke of oxen, to make rails and posts, bringing home a load at night. He would reach the timber usually by daylight and very often would not get home till long after dark. I thus, with some help from my younger brothers, had to do the chores, cut the stove wood, and carry it into the house. The fine, dry winter was a great blessing to father, as he had to work every day in getting out the material with which to fence the farm the next spring.

That spring, 1855, we put in a crop on the twenty acres which we broke the summer before, sowing twelve acres to wheat and planting eight acres to corn. It was my task to harrow and smooth down that tough sod. Father had made a forty-tooth, “A-harrow,” and with Ben and Head hitched to it, I harrowed that twenty-acre field over and over. It seemed as if I walked several thousand miles in getting the twelve acres of wheat covered. Father had told me to lap the harrow about one-half each time, and in my anxiety to do so I kept calling whoa-haw to the oxen almost continuously. One day father said to me, “Bud” (for that was my nickname then), “if I had a dollar for every time you said whoa-haw, I could retire for life a rich man.”

After putting in the wheat I helped father fence in sixty acres of land with a two-rail fence, building in all one mile and sixty rods of fence. I dug the post holes and father set the posts, and then nailed on the rails while I held them in place.

The old stage road from Davenport to Cedar Rapids ran across our farm right where we had fenced it in, but the stage route had not yet been changed. One day the stage from Davenport, heavily loaded with passengers, came through and the driver, following the old road, drove right up to the new fence to find his way blocked; and in place of following the new road about twenty rods up around the corner, he with the help of some of his passengers was going to tear down the fence. Father was at work a short distance away and seeing the move they were making, simply called out to them to be careful what they were doing. That settled the matter; the driver uttered a few “damns” and then went up the new road around the corner. The first railroad engine had just entered Iowa, having been brought across the Mississippi river on the ice by the piece and then put together at Davenport. Soon thereafter the old stage route was abandoned altogether.

At that time there were few houses to be seen on all that vast prairie. From our home we could count but four or five small homes, and we could see for miles in all directions without anything to break the view. It was a mile to our nearest neighbor.

That summer father cut our first crop of wheat in Iowa with a cradle. I raked the swathes into bundles with a hand rake, while the hired man bound them into sheaves. In the fall before father had broken up a large hazel patch for a garden, and I planted a part of it in watermelons. They did well, and late in the season I sold in all $6.00 worth of melons to the “movers” going west on the old territorial road which was now turned to run close by our house. I counted that $6.00 over a great many times, and each dollar then looked as big as a base drum head does today. But alas! The six silver dollars went to a local shoemaker for making six pairs of cowhide shoes for us six boys, and that was the last I saw of the $6.00.

Our second winter in Iowa was spent in the same way as the first. There was no schoolhouse near, and for the second time I got no winter's schooling. Instead, I remained at home to do chores and “smash up” the stove wood. Father again went to the timber every day with the same yoke of oxen to make a load of rails, or posts, or to cut a load of firewood, as occasion required.

During the summer of 1856 we farmed on a larger scale than the year before, and we bought a reaper to cut our grain. Then came the cold winter of '56 and '57, with six to eight feet of snow on the level. This “winter of the deep snow” was followed by the “wet summer of '57.” Our wheat crop was so badly blighted that we took none of it to mill. We had to use old wheat for food as well as for seed the following spring. The years of 1858 and 1859 were uneventful years. The times were hard, money was very scarce, and what little there was to be had was wild-cat money in the bargain.

The year of 1860 was another rather dull year, though in the late summer the political excitement ran high, the main topic being the South and slavery. I united with the church in November, 1860, becoming a member of the Disciples' Church.

In 1861 there was no improvement over the past three years, and the finest wheat ever grown would not bring over thirty cents a bushel, while corn was only ten cents a bushel. That spring the Civil War broke out, and after I helped father through with the harvest, I enlisted in the army and was away from home in the war for four long years. While in the army I participated in thirty-eight battles and skirmishes, and was mustered out in July, 1865.

When I came home from the war, I helped finish the harvest and then in the fall worked with a threshing outfit. I went through the winter without any occupation and then in the spring of 1866 I decided to put in a crop. I farmed eighty acres and cleared above all expenses $600.00 in six months.

In the fall of 1866 I thought that my occupation for life should be that of a merchant and decided to go into business. I went to London, Iowa, and bought an interest in a general store. After six months of experience I found out that merchandising was not my calling and sold out, losing in the whole transaction $1,200.00, or $200.00 per month. I decided then to make farming my calling and in the spring of 1867 broke up one hundred and twenty acres of prairie. I bought the best team of horses I could find, paying $400.00 cash for them, and went to breaking prairie.

On the 9th of May, 1867, I was married to Miss Mary E. Stanton, daughter of J. W. Stanton, a prosperous farmer of my home neighborhood. In 1868 we built a house on York Prairie, two miles north of Bennett, Iowa. Here for a period of seventeen years, I was engaged in general farming and stock raising. My father died in 1877 and I settled up his estate, which was worth about $50,000.00. He owned over five hundred acres of land, all well improved, besides a large amount of personal property. In 1881 I built one of the largest barns in Cedar county at that time, requiring over one hundred thousand feet of lumber. It would stable one hundred head of cattle, had bins to hold five thousand bushels of grain, and the hayloft would hold one hundred tons of hay. In the fall of 1885 I sold my farm of two hundred acres and bought a badly run down farm of one hundred and sixty acres. My old farm was all in grass, and at my sale in September of that year I sold over one hundred head of cattle, high-grade Durhams. I rented out the new farm I had bought for a term of ten years and quit farming for good.

Being somewhat broken in health, we moved to Colfax, Iowa, that same year for the benefit of my health. We remained there until the 1st of March, 1887, when we moved to Des Moines, Iowa, where we have made our home ever since. Having no living children we decided to endow a medical chair in Drake University and gave for that purpose $25,000.00. Later we gave $5,000.00 to the Medical Library of the University, and since have given $2,000.00 to establish the Downing Prizes in Drake University.

Signed this 11th day of June, 1914, by Alexander G. Downing, in his seventy-second year and his sixtieth year in the State of Iowa.

_______________

¹ Then western Virginia.—Ed.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 292-7

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, July 22, 1865

Weather quite pleasant today. Our regiment was paid off this afternoon, and we received our discharge. This makes us free men again and we at once left Camp McClellan for town. I went to the Davis House and stopped for the night. Mr. Hatch came to Davenport for a load of us.

I bought some clothing this afternoon, the first citizen's suit which I was permitted to wear in four long years. I also bought a good watch for $50.00, which with my clothing, $41.50, amounted to $91.50.

The Sixteenth Iowa arrived this morning from Louisville, Kentucky. The men of our brigade, on being discharged, seem to be scattering to the four ends of the earth; even the boys of Company E, after bidding one another farewell, are going in all directions.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 289

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, July 23, 1865

I started for home, thirty miles distant, with Abner Hatch, who had come down from our neighborhood with a team for the purpose of taking a load of the boys home. We left Davenport at 7:30 o'clock this morning and I reached home at 5 p. m. I found my folks all well. I am at home this time never to go to war again. It was a fine day for a ride in Iowa; it had rained yesterday, and though it was somewhat cloudy, the prairies never looked so nice and green as they did today.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 289

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Monday, July 24, 1865

It rained all day. I remained at home and brought my diary up to date.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 289

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, July 25, 1865

I went into the harvest field and worked all day at binding wheat.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 289

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, July 26, 1865

Working in the harvest field is making me quite sore, as it is the first of the kind I have done in the last four years.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 289

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, July 27, 1865

It is the same thing and nothing of importance.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 290

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Friday, July 28, 1865

I went out to Tipton today, and in the evening had a fine visit with Miss –––.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 290

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, July 29, 1865

Home again from my visits. I have worked three full days now in the harvest field.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 290

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, July 30, 1865

I went to church this morning and in the evening went to visit friends, old and new.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Monday, July 31, 1865

Today I again went out into the harvest field.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 290

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, July 16, 1865

It rained all day, and having no duty of any kind, we remained in our “ranches.” We had no services of any kind today, but as we had our last dress parade, and as this is our last Sunday in camp, we should have had some minister come out from the city for our last religious services in camp.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 288

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Monday, July 17, 1865

We had our last reveille early this morning. We took down our rubber ponchos, packed our knapsacks, and at 5 o'clock started for the boat landing, where we took the ferry for New Albany, Indiana, crossing the river below Louisville. On our way up the river we passed the headquarters of Generals Logan and Belknap, and each delivered a short speech to us. At New Albany we took the train for Michigan City, leaving at 10 o'clock. We had fairly good passenger cars, but the train was a slow one, as it often had to switch onto sidings to let other trains pass.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 288

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, July 18, 1865

We are still pushing on towards home and everything is all right. Our train ran all night, except when standing on some sidetrack. We arrived at Michigan City a little after dark and changed cars for Chicago.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 288

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Wednesday, July 19, 1865

Our night along the lake shore was quite cool. We arrived in Chicago this morning at 2 o'clock, and then marched to the Rock Island station, where at 8 o'clock we took train for Davenport, Iowa. We arrived at Davenport at 5 p. m. A large crowd of citizens was at the station to receive us, among them our old colonel, William Hall, who gave us an address of welcome.¹ Although he was suffering from sickness, he came to welcome us, and as he could not stand on a platform, he remained in his carriage to address us. We then marched up to old Camp McClellan, where we shall remain till we get our discharge and pay, which we expect in two or three days. The Second and Seventh Iowa have just received their pay and are striking out for home.

_______________

¹ “I cannot stand long enough to make a speech, I can only say to the citizens of Davenport, In response to the warm and generous welcome that they have extended to my comrades of the Eleventh Iowa, and myself, that the record we have made as good soldiers from the State of Iowa, while fighting in defense of our common country, will be duplicated by the record we shall make as good citizens, when we shall have returned to homes and loved ones.” — Roster Iowa Soldiers II, p. 282.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 288-9

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, July 20, 1865

We remained in camp all day. No pay yet.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 289

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Friday, July 21, 1865

It rained all day. No pay yet. Most of the boys are staying down in town. There is nothing of importance.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 289

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Monday, July 10, 1865

The men of the Fifteenth and Seventeenth Army Corps are raising a subscription for the purpose of erecting a monument in memory of the lamented Gen. James B. McPherson,¹ the old commander of the two corps, who was killed in the battle of Atlanta on the 22d day of July, 1864. I gave $5.00 myself, the whole company raising $75.00.

_______________

¹ Major-General McPherson was a noble man, a Christian gentleman, kind to the officers and men in his command, and the men of his two corps placed him equal to any of the generals in the army. East or West. — A. G. D.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 286

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, July 11, 1865

Troops are leaving daily for their homes. The boys are all active in getting everything squared up with one another before leaving for their homes. We get passes to the city as often as we can, to buy things we want before leaving the army for good. The boys are getting small photo gems taken to exchange with one another; I have already received over sixty in exchange.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 287