Robert Shaw, your husband, was sitting in a dirty, bloody, crowded hospital as Doctor Charles G Thrope helped fix an injury on his neck. You were a nurse, and having to listen to everything around you.

"President Lincoln is going to issue an emancipation proclamation to free the slaves," Thrope said, working on the sutures.

"What?" Robert asked, trying to keep from flinching at the sound of all the other soldiers.**

"Well, maybe not the ones on the borders, but it's going to free some of them, any way," Thrope said, doing stitches.

"My god," Robert replied, a hand on your arm.

One of the soldiers getting his leg amputated was screaming. "OH MY GOD! PLEASE DON'T CUT ANYMORE, PLEASE!"