The Siege of Vicksburg, 1863. The Death Knell Moment of the Rebellion. The South Reduced to Eating Rats.

With the fall of Vicksburg, the Union seized the entire length of the Mississippi River, cleaving the Confederacy in half. The South’s western states... Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas... were now isolated, their soldiers and resources cut off from the Eastern war effort. What had once been a united rebellion was now a fractured resistance, fighting a war it could no longer sustain.

Vicksburg. May 19 - July 4, 1863.
Union Forces: 75,000 Soldiers.
Confederate Forces: 30,000 Soldiers.

Additional Reading and Episode Research:

• Foote, Shelby. The Civil War, A Narrative.
• McPherson, James. Battle Cry of Freedom.
• Newman, Ralph. The Civil War: An American Iliad.
• Donald, David. The Civil War and Reconstruction.

Other Episodes on the Civil War:

• The Battle of Gettysburg.
• The Siege of Fort Fisher. 
• The Battle of Antietam.

Transcript

Thanks for tuning in to this episode of History's Greatest Battles. Season 2, where we explore History's Greatest Sieges. If you know anybody that enjoys this genre of history, please share the podcast with them, and leave a review. Stay tuned after the episode to descend into the killing fields of the comments section where have controversy this time. 

In the late spring of 1863, the American Civil War had entered its third year, and the Confederacy remained defiant. Though Union forces had gained ground in the West and tightened their blockade along the Southern coast, the rebellion still held firm, its armies maneuvering, its leaders unshaken. On the battlefield, Confederate troops had proven their resilience time and again, and despite mounting pressure, the war’s outcome remained uncertain.

Southern supply lines, however, were beginning to fray. The Union had severed key rail networks, choked off trade routes, and driven deep into the Mississippi Valley. Still, the Confederacy endured, drawing strength from the unbroken link between its eastern and western territories. As long as that connection stood, the South could continue to resist. But if it were cut, if the Mississippi River fell fully into Union hands, the Confederacy would be permanently divided, its ability to wage war crippled.

It was here, at the last remaining stronghold along that river, that the next phase of the war unfolded. Over the course of several weeks, soldiers and civilians alike endured relentless siege, starvation, and bombardment. Tens of thousands suffered, the land itself was reshaped by war, and the decisions made during those desperate days determined the very course of history. What happened here did not simply alter the war, it reshaped the balance of power in North America, dictated the fate of the Southern rebellion, and ensured that the modern United States would emerge not as a fractured experiment, but as a single, indivisible force.

Let’s now experience, the siege of Vicksburg.

 Welcome to History's Greatest Battles, Season Two, Episode 30: The Siege of Vicksburg. From the 19th of May to the 4th of July, 1863.

Union Forces: 75,000 Soldiers.

Confederate Forces: 30,000 Soldiers.

With the fall of Vicksburg, the Union seized the entire length of the Mississippi River, cleaving the Confederacy in half. The South’s western states... Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas... were now isolated, their soldiers and resources cut off from the Eastern war effort. What had once been a united rebellion was now a fractured resistance, fighting a war it could no longer sustain.

The Civil War erupted in fire and defiance on April 12, 1861, when Confederate artillery roared to life, bombarding Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor. Within hours, the Union garrison was forced to surrender. President Abraham Lincoln wasted no time, this rebellion would not stand. He called for volunteers, summoning the full force of the North to bring the Southern states to heel. But war is never so easily won. Three months later, at Manassas Junction, Virginia, the Union’s first attempt to crush the rebellion ended in disaster. Confederate troops shattered their lines, sending green Union soldiers fleeing in terror back toward Washington. The war would be long.

In the aftermath, Major General George McClellan took command, drilling and expanding the army into a disciplined war machine. Meanwhile, the venerable General Winfield Scott, one of the finest military minds of his age, crafted a strategy to strangle the Confederacy into submission. Scott’s plan, later known as the Anaconda Plan, was cold, methodical, and devastating in its simplicity, it would constrict the South, squeezing its lifeblood in stages until there was nothing left.

First, the Union Navy would lock down Southern ports, cutting the Confederacy off from the outside world. Without access to foreign weapons and supplies, the South’s war effort would wither. Lincoln had already put this into motion. The blockade was tightening, choking off Confederate trade, and forcing the South to rely on what little industry it possessed.

Next, the Union would seize the Mississippi River, the vital artery of the South. If the Union controlled the river, Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas would be cut off from the rest of the Confederacy, leaving them stranded and unable to reinforce the Eastern battlefronts. Finally, a series of relentless land offensives would carve through Tennessee and Georgia, hacking the Confederacy into isolated fragments that could be crushed one by one. By the end, there would be no coordination, no united front, only isolated pockets of resistance, each doomed to fall.

The second phase of Scott’s plan roared to life in February 1862. Major General Ulysses S. Grant, a commander of relentless drive, seized Fort Henry on the Tennessee River, then hammered his way through Fort Donelson on the Cumberland. The Confederates had placed their faith in a defensive line, a chain of forts meant to slow the Union advance until reinforcements could arrive. But no reinforcements came. The Confederate defense shattered, and Grant pressed southward, driving deep into enemy territory.

Then, in early April, the Confederates struck back. Near Pittsburgh Landing, close to an unremarkable little church called Shiloh, they launched a ferocious surprise attack. The battle raged, brutal and unrelenting. Grant, bloodied but unbowed, held the line until reinforcements arrived, turning the tide. The Confederate assault collapsed, and they fell back into Mississippi. Now, with western Tennessee firmly in Union hands, Grant turned toward his ultimate prize, the Mississippi River. Through the long months of summer and fall, his army ground its way south, step by bloody step.

Meanwhile, Union forces under Admiral David Farragut had stormed New Orleans, tearing the city from Confederate hands. With one force moving south and another marching north, the noose was tightening. The Mississippi was nearly in Union hands. Only one obstacle remained, Vicksburg, the last bastion linking the eastern and western Confederacy. If it fell, the South would be severed in two.

Vicksburg stood defiant, perched high on steep bluffs, its cannons commanding the river below. A direct assault from the Louisiana side was suicide. Grant knew it, but that didn’t stop him from trying every alternative attack he could devise. Union gunboats thundered against the heights in May and June 1862, pounding the Confederate artillery with relentless barrages, but the Southern guns held firm, spitting fire back at the river. At the end of December, Grant unleashed William T. Sherman’s XV Corps, sending them across the Yazoo River in a flanking maneuver. But the land betrayed them, choked with swamps, impassable. The attack stalled.

Grant even tried to change the river itself, ordering his men to dig a canal to bypass Vicksburg’s defenses. It was backbreaking work, but in the end, the Mississippi would not be tamed. The plan failed. Frustrated but undeterred, Grant took a new path. He moved his army south, crossed the Mississippi at Bruinsburg on April 30, then pushed further at Grand Gulf on May 2. The campaign was back in motion. Inside Vicksburg, Confederate General John C. Pemberton held command, a man caught in the worst possible position: outnumbered, outgunned, and outmaneuvered.

For months, Pemberton had turned Vicksburg into a fortress. Trenches and earthworks stretched for miles, bristling with artillery, waiting for the inevitable assault. He could have challenged Grant at Grand Gulf, maybe even halted him, but instead, his attention was pulled away by reports of a Union cavalry raid deep in Mississippi. The wrong decision at the wrong moment. Thinking the raid a greater threat, Pemberton sent troops toward Jackson, Mississippi. His focus was divided.

In Jackson, a larger Confederate force under General Joseph E. Johnston waited. If he and Pemberton could unite, they might stand a chance against Grant. But Grant saw it coming. Before Johnston and Pemberton could combine their forces, he cut them apart, splitting his army, moving with ruthless efficiency. He hurled the XVII Corps, led by John McPherson, straight at Jackson. Johnston was forced to retreat. Jackson fell, and Grant’s men occupied the city.

With Jackson secured, Grant turned west. Pemberton was next. On May 16, their armies clashed at Champion’s Hill, twenty-five miles from Vicksburg. It was a brutal, close-quarters battle, the fate of the campaign hanging in the balance. Pemberton’s men were overwhelmed. He had no choice, he fell back to the walls of Vicksburg. Grant pursued relentlessly, his army on Pemberton’s heels. By May 18, Vicksburg was surrounded.

Grant tried to take the city by force, storming the Confederate defenses on May 19. Then again on May 22. Both attacks failed. The Confederate defenses held firm. Grant lost over 3,000 men in the assaults, and Vicksburg stood defiant. Grant knew he couldn’t break Vicksburg by brute force alone. He changed tactics. His men picked up shovels and began digging, slowly strangling the city in a siege. But even as the siege began, danger lurked behind him. Johnston had reformed his army, retaken Jackson, and now threatened Grant’s rear.

Grant’s engineers carved the earth into a labyrinth of siegeworks, zigzagging trenches, deep-cut parallels, inching closer with every passing day. Along the eleven-mile front, Union and Confederate soldiers were sometimes just a few yards apart, so close they could hear each other breathe between the explosions. The deadliest duels came from the snipers, hidden in their pits, killing with single, patient shots. But the real devastation came from the artillery, hammering both sides day and night. Every day, Union cannons vomited 70,000 rounds into Vicksburg, turning streets into rubble. The Confederate batteries answered with their own relentless fire, refusing to go silent.

Out on the Mississippi, Union gunboats added their fury, launching shells into the city from the river, shaking the ground with every impact. The people of Vicksburg had nowhere to run. With the sky raining fire, they dug into the hillsides, carving out caves for shelter, some mere holes in the earth, others entire underground dwellings. By the end, there was nothing left to eat. The people of Vicksburg gnawed on mule meat, setting traps for rats, stripping the city of anything that could keep them alive. One Confederate soldier put it bluntly:

"On June twenty-eighth orders were issued to select the finest and fattest mules and slaughter them... Besides this meat, traps were set for rats, which were consumed in such numbers that ere the termination of the siege they actually became a scarcity. I once made a hearty breakfast on fried rats and found the flesh very good."

Survival had become its own kind of battle. The Union kept pushing forward, clawing their way through the earth. Then, Grant ordered something new, his men would tunnel under the Confederate lines and blow them apart from below. By June 25, the mine was ready, packed with gunpowder, waiting for the order. The Confederates had tried to counter-dig, to collapse the tunnel before it could be used. They had failed.

At 0300 hours, the mine erupted. The ground heaved, fire and dirt blasting skyward. But the crater it left behind wasn’t wide enough for a full assault. The opportunity was wasted. The Confederates had seen it coming. The 3rd Louisiana Regiment had already pulled back, building a new defensive line behind the blast zone. For twenty-four brutal hours, Union troops surged into the breach. Twenty regiments took their turn. None could hold it. The Confederates took back what was theirs.

Grant wasn’t about to repeat the mistake. He wrote later:

"Another mine was exploded on the first of July, but no attempt to charge was made, the experience of the twenty-fifth admonishing us." 

The next time explosives were used, it wouldn’t be one mine. It would be many, and they would signal the final assault. It never came to that. On July 3, Pemberton finally saw the truth. No reinforcements were coming. His men were starving. The city could not hold out much longer. The next day was the 4th of July, Independence Day. Pemberton, a Pennsylvanian by birth, hoped Grant might show leniency on such a day.

Grant’s first demand was simple: unconditional surrender. Pemberton refused. If he had to, he would fight to the bitter end. Grant relented. On July 4, he offered terms, Pemberton’s men could go free on parole, but Vicksburg belonged to the Union. Grant laid out the conditions:

"You will be allowed to march out of our lines, the officers taking with them their side-arms and clothing, and the field, staff, and cavalry officers one horse each. The rank and file will be allowed all their clothing, but no other property."

It was over. Vicksburg had fallen.

Pemberton had no way of knowing that, at the very moment he surrendered, Johnston’s army was finally on the move. But it didn’t matter. They were too late. Throughout the siege, Pemberton had clung to the messages from his superior, promises that reinforcements were coming. But promises don’t stop artillery shells. He had heard it too many times. He no longer had the luxury of believing in hope.

In truth, Johnston had already given Pemberton the green light to negotiate terms. That alone told him everything, there was no saving Vicksburg. The siege had come at a brutal cost. Nearly 2,900 Confederate soldiers lay dead, wounded, or missing. But the real number was far greater, over 29,000 surrendered. The spoils of war were vast. Grant’s men seized 172 cannons, over 60,000 muskets, many of them first-rate weapons now turned against their former owners.

For the Union, victory had come at a price, over 4,900 men lost, the majority cut down in the desperate assaults of May. But the sacrifice had paid for something priceless: total control of the Mississippi River. The numbers told one story. The strategic reality told another. The Confederacy had just suffered a loss from which it would never recover.

Vicksburg was only half the disaster. Days later, the last Confederate stronghold on the Mississippi, Port Hudson, fell as well. Now, from Minnesota to the Gulf of Mexico, the river was Union territory. Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas were now cut off, their men and resources severed from the fight. The Confederacy had been split in two, and there was no stitching it back together. Before, the Confederacy had at least managed to trickle supplies in through Texas via Mexico. That option was now dead.

Yes, the war in the Trans-Mississippi theater would drag on, but it no longer mattered. The main fight, the war that would decide everything, was now concentrated in the East. What Pemberton never realized was just how devastatingly timed his surrender would be. On the very same day, July 4, 1863, far to the north, Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia was limping south, shattered after the disastrous defeat at Gettysburg. Lee’s bold invasion of Pennsylvania had been broken, his dreams of resupplying in the North reduced to ashes.

Two armies. Two defeats. Two hammer blows. This was the moment the tide of war turned forever against the Confederacy. Before Gettysburg and Vicksburg, the South had undeniable strengths. Their generals were often superior. Their troops were hardened, determined. And slavery allowed them to keep their fields running while sending men to war.

But by the summer of 1863, the North had done what Lincoln and his generals had been waiting for, it had fully mobilized. Factories churned out rifles, cannons, railcars, and ammunition in staggering numbers. The Union Army was no longer just a collection of volunteers; it was a machine of war. With Lee retreating from Gettysburg and Vicksburg crushed under Grant’s boot, the war had entered its final phase. The North’s war machine would now move relentlessly forward, hammering the Confederacy until there was nothing left.

The fall of Vicksburg was not just a victory. It was the victory, the death knell of a Southern dream that had bled itself dry in defiance of the inevitable. The Confederacy did not just lose a city; it lost its very lifeline. No men would march from Texas. No supplies would trickle in from Mexico. The Mississippi, once the great artery of a proud rebellion, now pumped life only to the Union war effort.

And on that same July 4, 1863, Independence Day, as Pemberton handed over the keys to his starving city, Lee’s broken army was limping south from Gettysburg, dragging with it the shattered remnants of a failed invasion. The cost of that gamble? Tens of thousands dead. A dream of conquest reduced to a desperate retreat.

The war was not yet over, but its course had been sealed. The Confederacy still had fight left in it, but from this moment on, that fight would be the fight of a cornered beast, wounded, starving, clawing at the inevitable. Grant had done what Scott had envisioned two years earlier. The coils had tightened. The Confederacy was dying.

For two more years, the South would bleed. Cities would burn. Fields would rot. Entire generations of young men would vanish into unmarked graves. But now, right here, at Vicksburg, the final truth of this war had been written in blood and fire.

The South was broken. The war had changed forever. And there was no path left… except annihilation.

 Thanks for listening. Hope you enjoyed that episode. Let's now descend into the killing fields of the comment section  on our episode on the Battle of Atlanta and Sherman's March to the Sea. User Dokes. D-O-A-K-E-S, commented, he didn't do enough, to be honest. He shouldn't have stopped and completely leveled the south.

Traitors deserve far worse than what he did.

 Now before I respond, because I think of the gravity of this comment, I want everybody to know that I've used nine primary sources for this response, and three secondary sources. In other words, people that gathered the information from primary sources. So a total of 12 sources. Some of the content that we'll be talking about is. 

Violent and graphic. So if you're a child or squeamish, best to turn it off now and join us tomorrow. Let's get to it. 

Well dos, let's unpack the traitor label, where Southern soldiers really just treasonous rebels spent on evil.  The Southern mindset at the time revolved around sovereignty and self-governance. Basically, the idea that their states had entered the union voluntarily and could leave it if they felt the rights were trampled Confederate.

President Jefferson Davis argued that the South quote desired peace. Seeks no conquest. All we ask is to be left alone. End quote, insisting they fought only to resist subjugation and preserve their quote right to freedom, independence, and self-government. End quote. In other words, they saw themselves not as traitors, but as patriots in the mold of 1776.

Defending their homeland from an invading force. Now, let's be clear. The cornerstone of the Confederacy was slavery. An indefensible institution morally wrong then and now. But while the cause of southern succession was tied to slavery, the average Johnny Rebel had more immediate motivations. In fact, most Confederate soldiers were not slave holders at all. 

One detailed study found that only about one in 12 enlisted men owned slaves, roughly 8% of all fighting men. The typical Confederate soldier was a poor farmer or a laborer to him. The war wasn't an abstract fight over slavery's future or morality. It was alarmingly concrete enemy troops marching into a state burning towns and threatening his family. 

As Virginian, Lieutenant James h Langhorn put it quote, it makes the blood boil in me when I think of an invading army being allowed to sleep two nights in Virginia without some attempt to drive them out. End quote.

That's from nps.gov. That visceral sense of being invaded drove many southerners into the ranks. They fought in their minds. To protect home and hearth from an army they saw as oppressors. Not to defend the concept of slavery for the elite planter class of which they were not a part. Contemporary letters and memoirs.

Back this up. Take Confederate veteran Moses, Jacob, Ezekiel, I. Who later recalled that quote, we were not fighting for the perpetuation of slavery, but for the principle of state's rights and free trade end quote. He and his fellow soldiers believed they were standing up for their state's right to govern itself free from what they viewed as Northern tyranny. 

While today we can acknowledge that the Southern leadership was trying to preserve slavery. There's no denying slavery was the central issue, splitting the country. 

It is also true that Johnny Reb in the trenches often saw himself as a defender, not a traitor. He wasn't plotting to overthrow the US for kicks. He felt his new country, the Confederacy, was his country and it was under attack. So calling all Confederate soldiers traitors. Paints with far too broad a brush.

It ignores the genuine if misguided, patriotic sentiment. Many of them professed. They sang about Dixie in 1776, invoked the founding fathers  and truly believed they were honoring the American tradition of fighting against tyranny. Even as we cringe at the irony that their freedom was built on denying freedom to others, slavery was absolutely wrong.

But understanding why most Confederate soldiers fought requires a look at their personal motives. They were by and large defending their homes as they understood it. As one historian summarized Confederates quote, profess to fight for liberty and independence from a tyrannical government end quote,  whereas Unionists fought to preserve the nation.

In the Southern view, the real trader might be the invader who trampled their state sovereignty. That doesn't make their cause just, but it does make it more complex than simple treason.  Now, on General, Sherman often hailed in the north as the hard-nosed hero, Rowe, who brought the Confederacy to its knees.

Some folks claim Sherman quote, didn't do enough as you wrote in his infamous March to the sea.  Didn't do enough. Well, that's a hot take because if you ask anyone in Georgia or South Carolina circa 1864. Sherman's troops did plenty.  In fact, they often went way beyond lawful warfare, crossing firmly into war crime territory.

Sherman himself admitted his goal was to make Southerners quote, feel the hard hand of war, end quote, to break their will by targeting not just rebel armies, but the civilian support system. His scorched earth strategy meant destroying farms, railroads, and towns. Pretty much anything of potential use to the Confederate war effort.

But in practice, many of his men took this brutality to horrific extremes that cannot be excused as military necessity. So let's talk specifics, because the grim details come straight from firsthand accounts, widespread sexual violence. The ugliest aspect of Sherman's campaign was the wave of rape that accompanied the destruction.

Historians have uncovered over 450 rape cases officially brought before union military courts during the March to the Sea. Mostly assaults on African American slave women by the Union Army. That was coming down to freedom. The true number of rapes was undoubtedly higher.

Many victims had little legal recourse and society often shamed women into silence. Sherman's own letters indicate he knew that soldiers were committing rape and did little to stop it. One shocking account from Columbia, South Carolina describes how a black woman was raped by seven union soldiers and then had her face shoved into a ditch until she drowned.

Famed Southern writer William Gilmore Sims, who witnessed the sacking of Columbia, reported that regiments in successive relays committed gang rapes of scores of enslaved women during the chaos. These are not Confederate propaganda or fevered imaginings. They're documented events that even some northern observers later acknowledged such atrocities inflicted lifelong trauma and shattered any notion that Sherman's March was clean or humane. 

Next, the murder and pillage of civilians. Sherman's bummers as his roaming foraging, squads were called, didn't just stop at theft. There were many instances of murder against non-combatants. Who resisted? I. Or sometimes for no clear reason at all. Civilians who tried to defend their property, often paid with their lives.

Union troops burned homes over families heads, and one notorious incident. In Columbia, soldiers burned an entire city and many blamed Sherman's men for the conflagration.  Witnesses recount scenes of carnage and terror as fire consumed homes and businesses alike with inhabitants fleeing into the night.

The hard hand of war fell on elderly and children alike hardly. Military targets. Sherman's forces by targeting  civilian infrastructure inevitably caused civilian deaths. Something even in his time was viewed as an atrocity  when done? Wantonly  Next Extortion and Wanton destruction.

Along the March, union soldiers engaged in what can only be called extortion and cruelty toward helpless civilians. Eyewitnesses describe Yankees,  Desiccating Graves in search of jewelry or valuables buried for safekeeping.  Soldiers looted nearly every home. They came across stealing food and livestock.

Then to ensure nothing was left, they often destroyed. Whatever remained. This left. Countless women and children facing starvation. In many cases, money or bribes were demanded. Some families learned that a hidden stash of gold might persuade a union officer to spare their house from the torch. Those who had nothing to give, watched everything go up in flames.

One account noted union troops tortured an elderly man to force him to reveal where his family  silverware was hidden. A cruel interrogation at gunpoint for a few spoons and forks. Sherman's men burned churches and even threatened to throw pastors into the fire when they protested. The sacrilege quote, your money or your life end quote was not just a highway men's demand.

It was happening on front porches across Georgia and the Carolinas. These acts weren't about speeding the end of the war. They were vengeful and they were criminal behaviors by soldiers who knew they'd likely face no consequences. Amid the chaos, Sherman famously said, war is cruelty and you cannot refine it.

But there's a chasm between harsh military necessity and unbridled atrocity, rape, murder, and extortion. Were not necessary by any war standard. There were crimes even in 1864. There were codes of conduct. The union had general order number 100, the Lieber code outlining rules of war. Many of Sherman's men blatantly violated those rules and Sherman busy cutting his path to the sea, largely turned a blind eye as long as his campaign stayed on schedule. 

So the idea that he didn't do enough, as you wrote, is deeply unsettling unless one thinks total war should literally have no limits. The survivors of Sherman's March would beg to differ in their eyes. He did far too much destruction already. So history isn't a Marvel movie with clear cut heroes and villains.

It's a messy human drama with perspectives on both sides. A balanced view of the Civil War recognizes this complexity. Yes. The Confederacy was fighting to preserve an inhumane system, slavery at the highest political level, and we rightly condemn that wholeheartedly. But it's also true that many individual confederates believed earnestly if mistakenly in the ideals of 1776 and self-determination, they saw themselves as defenders of their homes and their rights, not traitors to a nation they felt had betrayed them. 

A union private and a Confederate private could each point at the other and call him the traitor. That's the tragic irony of Civil War. Understanding that mindset isn't the same as endorsing the Confederacy's cause it's simply giving historical actors their due complexity. Likewise, we can applaud the union's victory over slavery and disunion, while honestly confronting the means that victory entailed.

Sherman's campaign did help end the war, but it also unleashed suffering on thousands of civilians pretending those atrocities didn't happen or worse, that he didn't do enough as a disservice to the truth. We shouldn't indulge in blind partisanship. Worshiping one side is all good. And demonizing the other is all evil. 

The Civil War was fought by millions of Americans who all bled red. Courage, fear, honor, cruelty, and tragedy existed in North and south alike in the end. Calling Southerners traitors without context  or cheering for more destruction. Ala Sherman. Misses the point that history is nuanced. We gain nothing by transforming a war between brothers into a simplistic morality play.

Instead, we should study it in full the noble words about liberty. Alongside the horrific reality of slavery, the union's righteous cause. Alongside the unethical tactics, some union generals employed this fuller understanding doesn't justify the wrongs committed by either side, but it does help us learn from them. 

As we reflect on the Civil War, let's do so with a measure of charity and clarity, appreciating why people felt driven to fight, condemning the undeniable evils.  And above all, remembering that history's lessons are rarely black and white. Embracing this nuanced perspectives makes not for only better history, but a wiser and more empathetic society today. 

Thanks for listening.  See you tomorrow