It rained hard all the time we remained on Bolivar Heights, but we did not care, we were going home. At last orders came from headquarters for our discharge. We were to report at Camp Dennison for final muster out. Giving three cheers we started for Harper’s Ferry on a dark, rainy day. Here we found a train awaiting us, which we boarded and at night pulled out for Baltimore, getting there the next morning. We formed ranks and marched to the Northern Central depot, and took a train for home. We returned over the same route over which we came, with the same accommodations. We had another good supper at Pittsburg and reached Columbus, Ohio, at noon. We left our train, marched to Todd Barracks and remained over night. The next day we rode to Camp Dennison, were assigned to the same barracks that we had left four months previously. Cooks were detailed and we remained there a week, until Aug. 30th, the officers making out payrolls, discharges, etc. While there several citizens of Chillicothe came to see us and we received many boxes of good things to eat from home. Several of the boys left camp, walked to the next station and came up home, returning to camp the next day. To say that we were happy but faintly expresses it. We were finally discharged from the United States service and paid off. A special train was furnished, cars with seats in them, and we sped homeward. When we arrived at Chillicothe we were met by a large outpouring of the citizens, who, to music furnished by the German Brass Band, escorted us up town. We marched up Main street, and we stepped proudly, but were saddened as we passed the homes of James Ghormley and Edward Armstrong. We were coming home, but these, our friends and comrades, never returned. They starved to death in Salisbury, N. C. prison pen. The good people of Chillicothe had prepared a dinner for us in the market house, and we did justice to it. After dinner we “fell in” for the last time, marched up Paint street and drew up in front of the Court House, where after a few remarks by the Colonel we broke ranks, each went to his home, and the 149th Regiment, Ohio Volunteer Infantry, became a memory. MY CAPTURE AND PRISON LIFE _By William McCommon, Co. A, 149th O. V. I._