In a musty attic box I found
letters of my family in the War --
from places like Bull Run and Gettysburg
and places seldom mentioned in the books.
They said Jeb Stuart had praised some of them,
who served a cause and often gave their lives
not knowing how to tell the history
they made, except a private's point of view
set down in a simple line or two:
"We have about half enough to eat,
green beef and flour, but very little salt.
Our company left Savannah heading north,
there was a hundred twenty-five of us,
but since then many of my friends have died
so now there's only thirty-six to fight.
I tell you, Mother, I am well
but am not satisfied."
Jimmy Carter, Always a Reckoning and Other Poems (Crown Publishers, 1995)
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