Photographer, Matthew Brady, Barely Escapes With His Life At Gettysburg Poem by Jeff Fleischer

My Dearest Juliette,
I am safe for the moment at Sheridan's camp near the hills of Gettysburg. My clothes are wet and torn, as well as caked with mud and full of blood. I escaped with my life after barely getting a snapshot of Lee riding his trusty steed, Traveller.

The might roar of cannon and clouds of rising smoke filled the air as bullets whizzed by me to my right and to my left. As I ran toward Sherman's camp, a Yankee was shot in the leg and fell on me, as he bled profusely. I managed to get to my feet and continue running. It seemed like an eternity until I finally made it back to camp.

I trust and pray all is well with you. I'll try to be home within a week.