In preparing to write my novel, "Ethan's Peach Tree," I read many diaries of Civil War soldiers.  The notes I made were voluminous, and today, while sorting through some of those notes, I came across one that is particularly poignant.  I apologize for not being able to tell you whose diary this is taken from:

     "...the next day our regiment marched across a part of battlefield where the fighting had been heavy.  The burial details were at work.  It was a shock to me, Mother, but the smell of blood and death no longer has an effect on me.  It wasn't until a breeze came up and I caught the fragrance of flowers that I began to cry..."