veral of our men ran down there, to find that literally
true. They brought back the lieutenant-colonel, a fine-looking man, who
was mortally wounded. I shook his hand, and he said, "God bless you,
boys, you are very kind." He asked to be laid down in some sheltered
place, for, said he, "I have but a few moments to live." I well remember
his refined, gentlemanly appearance, and how profoundly sorry I felt for
him. He was young, lithely built, of sandy complexion, and wore a
comparatively new uniform of Confederate gray, on which was embroidered
the insignia of the "5th Ga.,[B] C. S. A." He said, "You have killed all
my brave boys; they are there in the road." And they were, I saw them
next day lying four deep in places as they fell, a most awful picture of
battle carnage. This lull was of very short duration, and like the lull
of a storm presaged a renewal of the firing with greater fury, for a
fresh line of rebel troops had been brought up. This occurred three
times before we were relieved.

[Illustration: SILENCED CONFEDERATE BATTERY IN FRONT OF DUNKER CHURCH
SHARPSBURG ROAD, ANTIETAM

This little brick church lay between the opposing lines, and both Union
and Confederate wounded were gathered in it]

During the fiercest of the firing, another remarkable incident occurred,
which well illustrated the fortunes of war. I heard a man shouting,
"Come over here men, you can see 'em better," and there, over the brow
of the knoll, absolutely exposed, was Private George Coursen, of Company
K, sitting on a boulder, loading and firing as calmly as though there
wasn't a rebel in the country. I yelled to him to come back under the
cover of the hill-top, but he said he could see the rebels better there,
and refused to leave his vantage-ground. I think he remained there until
we were ordered back and did not receive a scratch. His escape was
nothing less than a miracle. He seemed to have no idea of fear.

A remarkable fact about our experience during this fight was that we
took no note of time. When we were out of ammunition and about to move
back I looked at my watch and found it was 12.30 P.M. We had been under
fire since eight o'clock. I couldn't believe my eyes; was sure my watch
had gone wrong. I would have sworn that we had not been there more than
twenty minutes, when we had actually been in that very hell of fire for
four and a half hours.

Just as we were moving back, the Irish brigade came up, under command of
General