June 2 1863

 

Dear Father and Mother

                        I received a letter from you yestarday was glad to know that you wer well I am well as usual we are in the reer of vicksburg we are not fighting much now but are trying to starve them out how long it will take no one knows but from all we can see and heer we think they cannot hold out much longer they drove out about a thousand of horses and mules the other day to keep them from starving our gunboats and land batteries Shell the citty evry day we have to be on duty evry other day in the rifle rifle pits there is but few getting killed or wounded now we had one killed the other day / by being to bold he got his head up to high and a reb se him and shot him through the head killing him instantly Mr Atkinson Wheeler and Fosket Fosket ar well and if we get through this scrape safe we expect to get home safe

 

you wanted to know what ofice Mr Atkinson held he is a sargent I receaved 3 heralds that you sent lately but have not got the paper you sad your were going to send me there will be no use of your sending paper to me for the suttler has come down and we can get as much as we are a mind to

 

since we crossed the river we have taken 15000 prisoners and 84 pieces of artillery if you look in the paper you will see whether we have done any fighting / or not we are in McLernerds corpse Oysterhouses division and Linzys brigade

 

you must not get scard because you do not get letters from me regular because I do not have a chance to write very often but I hope to it will not be long before I shall be where I can talk with you instead of wrighting it is only about a month before my time is out and then if I am well it will not be long before I shall be at home you say in your last letter that you have not got your corn planted yet corn here is tasled and silked and potatoes are larg enough to eat wild plumbs are ripe and blackberys are almost ripe so you see that things are some earleyer than they are up North is there any / cherries on the english cherry tree this year

I cant think of any more to write so good by from your son                          N J Fuller

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