About a week later James Ghormley died. I was talking with him the night before. He said “I cannot last but a day or two.” I tried to cheer him up but it was of no use. This left me the only one of our boys alive that I knew of. The last I saw of Armstrong and Ghormley they were piled on the dead wagon that came in twice a day to collect the dead. The corpses were piled in, one on top of another like so many logs, taken out and buried in trenches. I remained there three months longer and was just about ready to give up when one morning a rebel lieutenant came to me and said, “Here, you cussed Yank, get up to the gate, you are to be exchanged.” I told him that was an old story. He said “stay there then.” I told him I could not walk so he had me carried to the gate. There were a thousand loaves of corn bread lying on the ground. They told each man to take a loaf, as that would have to last us until we got into our lines. We were three days getting to the Union lines and our loaves looked very small when we arrived at Wilmington, N. C., where we were exchanged. We ran in on a foggy morning. One of our boys cried out “there is our flag.” You cannot realize how we felt, how we tried to raise a feeble cheer, when we knew that we were in God’s country once more. We were ordered to “pile off” which we did in short order. There were piles of broken crackers and scraps of meat lying on the ground, which had been tramped upon by men and horses, and we began to eat it greedily until we were stopped by our officers putting a guard around us. They told us not to eat that garbage, as Uncle Sam’s rations would be ready in a few minutes. It seemed like a dream to us, we were in a heaven of happiness. We were kept in a hospital at Wilmington for about a week, and then we were sent to Annapolis, Md., by transport. At Annapolis we were put in tent hospital after burning all our clothes and the “varmints” that went with them. They then cut our hair close, turned the hose on us, gave each man a good scrubbing and clothed us in _night gowns_ as our uniforms had not arrived from New York. We remained in hospital for two weeks, when we were sent to general hospital at Baltimore, Md., where our record was taken. My weight at that time being 85 lbs., having lost 75 lbs. in rebel prisons, I could not well spare any more. I remained in hospital at Baltimore three months longer, when I was discharged and sent home. My own mother did not know me until I told her who I was. _Note by George Perkins_ Comrade McCommon in his wonderful record states that he does not know the dates on which his comrades died. The records show that James Ghormley died December 24th, 1864, so counting back, Armstrong must have died about December 17th.