FOOTNOTE:[1]Many, many years afterward, Ed. came from Dayton, Ohio—where he was an inmate of the National Military Home—to the Weirs reunion, especially “to see Mart. Haynes.” There, in the Second Regiment house, he told to an interested audience the story of his being wounded and of being discovered and relieved by me, substantially as given in my letter, but with greater elaboration and detail. And he closed with a climax which I had omitted in my letter and in the long lapse of years had all but forgotten. “Then Mart. said, ‘Ed., it’s going to rain, and you are in no shape to lay out without any cover. I’ve lost my whole outfit, but I’ll see if I can’t pick up something for you.’ And he went off, and in half an hour he came back. He said, ‘Don’t ask any questions, Ed.’ And he covered me up with an officer’s overcoat—a splendid garment, heavily braided—tucked me in, and made me comfortable. I honestly believe he saved my life.” I loathe a thief, but I am glad I stole that overcoat.
FOOTNOTE:
[1]Many, many years afterward, Ed. came from Dayton, Ohio—where he was an inmate of the National Military Home—to the Weirs reunion, especially “to see Mart. Haynes.” There, in the Second Regiment house, he told to an interested audience the story of his being wounded and of being discovered and relieved by me, substantially as given in my letter, but with greater elaboration and detail. And he closed with a climax which I had omitted in my letter and in the long lapse of years had all but forgotten. “Then Mart. said, ‘Ed., it’s going to rain, and you are in no shape to lay out without any cover. I’ve lost my whole outfit, but I’ll see if I can’t pick up something for you.’ And he went off, and in half an hour he came back. He said, ‘Don’t ask any questions, Ed.’ And he covered me up with an officer’s overcoat—a splendid garment, heavily braided—tucked me in, and made me comfortable. I honestly believe he saved my life.” I loathe a thief, but I am glad I stole that overcoat.
[1]Many, many years afterward, Ed. came from Dayton, Ohio—where he was an inmate of the National Military Home—to the Weirs reunion, especially “to see Mart. Haynes.” There, in the Second Regiment house, he told to an interested audience the story of his being wounded and of being discovered and relieved by me, substantially as given in my letter, but with greater elaboration and detail. And he closed with a climax which I had omitted in my letter and in the long lapse of years had all but forgotten. “Then Mart. said, ‘Ed., it’s going to rain, and you are in no shape to lay out without any cover. I’ve lost my whole outfit, but I’ll see if I can’t pick up something for you.’ And he went off, and in half an hour he came back. He said, ‘Don’t ask any questions, Ed.’ And he covered me up with an officer’s overcoat—a splendid garment, heavily braided—tucked me in, and made me comfortable. I honestly believe he saved my life.” I loathe a thief, but I am glad I stole that overcoat.