Grant's own autobiography is excellent too; he wrote it while dying of cancer in a last-ditch effort to leave his family some money, but you'd never suspect it from the prose style or level of detail. Not very self-impressed, either - sort of the anti-McClellan. Thanks to Mark Twain for publishing!
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Sherman's autobiography is good too, but falls a little short of Grant's on several axes (for one thing: not facing imminent death, he was a lot more concerned with protecting his reputation). Pretty funny how much ink he spilled on hating San Francisco.
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