April 20th, Sunday morning. It is just one year ago today since I marched down Broadway as one of the Seventy-first regiment, enlisted for three months to put down the rebellion, and here it is stronger and more defiant than ever. How rapidly the year has passed, and how little we have done. So far as producing any results this army has done nothing to speak of, but is ready and powerful enough to deal some stunning blows and will if its commander has the pluck to use it. Many of my notions have been rudely shattered. The old army officer who loomed up so mighty as a man of war, has lost much of his prestige; red tapeism, slowness, desire for a comfortable berth, and above and beyond all, jealousy in such monstrous form, that like vice, to be hated, is but to be seen. During the morning it rained hard; nevertheless, we had the regular inspection and at five o’clock a dress parade, Captain McKay in command. Received some interesting letters from home.