With Mother's Day coming up this weekend, here is another interesting article from the Youth's Companion, providing one perspective about death and what a dying soldier feels as this event overtakes him. I imagine this sentiment is true in all wars and remains so to this day.
It is from April 21, 1864
The following incidents were related not long since by a speaker at a public meeting for the benefit of the soldiers:
In one ward of the hospital there was a man who was evidently dying. When I first found the man I goat an old tick and filled it with straw and laid it upon the bed. I bathed his face and combed his hair, and then took an put him on it. When I went into the tent that morning I saw that there were not many hours left for him on earth. I talked to him of his mother and Jesus. A soldier never forgets his mother; he never forgets her. I have sat by their beds as they breathed their last and I have stooped down to catch the last word that left their lips on earth, and I have heard them whisper, "O, mother," and pass away.
I once stood upon a battle-field and I saw a man die, and he was terribly wounded. his spirit was no longer there on the battle-field; it was away off at home. As I sat there looking upon the man, a smile passed over his face, and he whispered, "O, mother - O, mother - I am so glad you have come, mother," and he stopped. By-and-by he looked again, and he aid, "it's cold, mother, turn my blanket over me. " I stooped down again and did as he wanted. he said, "That will do, mother," turned over his head and passed from time to eternity. They never forget their mothers. Let me tell you there is no power on earth can so mold a man for good, or that is so terrible for evil, as is the mother's.
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