It's said losing an ear out here in the field's good luck, that is once you escape this hell. I joined back in '62, and it's been three years of nothing but blood and screams. Sleep's almost a ghost to me these days. When we took Chancellorsville, we were all so certain it'd be over soon enough, and I swear I could smell the collards cooking back in Georgia. It's been two years and we're losing ground. I just want it done, all of it. I've lost every friend I ever had to this thing. I want to see momma and pop again, my sisters, and shake out the pecan trees and wander the hills. I'm not sure this war's ever gonna end. I'm not even sure who I was before it all began. Good luck, that's what I need. And if it takes an ear, then that's just the way it's got to be.