e, General Lucius E. Polk's
brigade made the most gallant charge of the war, turning the tide of
affairs, and routing the Yankee army. General Polk himself led the
charge in person, and was the first man on top of the Yankee breastworks
(_vide_ General D. H. Hill's report of the battle of Chickamauga),
and in every attack he had the advance guard, and in every retreat,
the rear guard of the army. Why? Because General Lucius E. Polk and
his brave soldiers _never_ faltered, and with him as leader, the general
commanding the army knew that "all was well."

Well, this evening of which I now write, the litter corps ran up and
placed him on a litter, and were bringing him back through Company H,
of our regiment, when one of the men was wounded, and I am not sure but
another one was killed, and they let him fall to the ground. At that
time, the Yankees seemed to know that they had killed or wounded a
general, and tore loose their batteries upon this point. The dirt and
rocks were flying in every direction, when Captain Joe P. Lee, Jim
Brandon and myself, ran forward, grabbed up the litter, brought General
Polk off the crest of the hill, and assisted in carrying him to the
headquarters of General Cleburne. When we got to General Cleburne,
he came forward and asked General Polk if he was badly wounded, and
General Polk remarked, laughingly: "Well, I think I will be able to get a
furlough now." This is a fact. General Polk's leg had been shot almost
entirely off. I remember the foot part being twisted clear around,
and lying by his side, while the blood was running through the litter in
a perfect stream. I remember, also, that General Cleburne dashed a tear
from his eye with his hand, and saying, "Poor fellow," at once galloped
to the front, and ordered an immediate advance of our lines. Cleburne's
division was soon engaged. Night coming on, prevented a general
engagement, but we drove the Yankee line two miles.

"DEAD ANGLE"

The First and Twenty-seventh Tennessee Regiments will ever remember the
battle of "Dead Angle," which was fought June 27th, on the Kennesaw line,
near Marietta, Georgia. It was one of the hottest and longest days of
the year, and one of the most desperate and determinedly resisted battles
fought during the whole war. Our regiment was stationed on an angle,
a little spur of the mountain, or rather promontory of a range of hills,
extending far out beyond the main line of battle, and was subj