It feels strange to write this letter which you will read after I have died. I am not sure of exactly what I should say. I understand the terrible grief you are going through. All I can tell you is that I have always loved you.
I have but two regrets that I am dead. One is that I shall never see you, my family, again. My other is that I shall never fight with these men again.
I can't really explain how it is they fight, but I can say this: they fight with more strength, with more determination, with more courage than I have ever seen any fight with before, and ever will again. Perhaps it is because of having been held as slaves, and knowing that they are fighting for their freedom. But not just theirs, but that of the family they left behind and hope to be reunited with again. I know exactly how they feel: as I write this letter, I am afraid I will never see you again.
I have high hopes for the future, not mine, or that of the fifty-fourth, but of the country as a whole. The country must not remain separated, but I cannot imagine the loss of life the war will cause, but compared to the sacrifices generations of blacks have suffered, enslaved in the South, this is but a small sacrifice.
The fifty-fourth is an example for the whole nation -- whites and blacks alike. For the white, the fifty-fourth shows the courage with which blacks can fight. Perhaps the military will create new black regiments, based on what the fifty-fourth has done. For the blacks, the fifty-fourth is an example of what they can do for their country, for their family.
Good-bye, Mother and Father. I love you.