g up to the quiet stars and listening
to the combat which was still going on. This is a narrative of personal
experiences and feelings, designed for family use, and so it is in order
for me to tell how I felt as I lay there. It might be expected that I
should say that I was longing to be back in the fight impatient to be
leading my brave men up to the muzzles of the enemy's muskets. But if I
were to say so I would lie. As I lay there, I was not all smitten by a
fit of the heroics nor anything of that kind. I was tired, almost
exhausted by the exertion and excitement of the day, two days in fact.
And it felt fine to just lie still there and rest. As long as I kept
still my wound did not pain me much. I hated bullets and had no appetite
for glory or promotion, and it was a relief to lie there out of range of
the detestable mines. Moreover, I had full confidence that my men would
give a good account of themselves, whether I was with them or not. There
was satisfaction too, in feeling that I was through, that I had kept in
the line of duty until I was shot and disabled, and that I had given to
my country all that she asked of me in the shooting line of endeavor,
and could now take up life again on a new basis. To be sure there were
some chances against my getting safe home again, but I had a cheerful
confidence that I should be able to pull through somehow. I have often
been amused while thinking of my feelings as I lay there across the
middle of the road. The prevailing sensation was one of relief. I was no
cow-boy or rough-rider. I was just an ordinary patriot and student,
ready to bleed and die if need be for my country, but never spoiling for
a fight. And I know that many of my bravest comrades were made of the
same stuff.

"My greatest want just then was water, and that I couldn't get it until a
rebel supplied me next morning. Even when our regiment came back to the
road where I lay, or what was left of it, no one could get a drop for
me. Colonel Barlow came to me after the fighting was over, and showed
all the tenderness of a brother, letting me see a side of his nature
that I had never known anything about before. He deplored the fact that
there was no way by which he could have me carried off and kept within
our lines. And so, after having me moved to the side of the road, and
after my friends had come and talked with me and bade me good-bye, that
splendid little regiment marched away about two o'clock in the morning