It is long past noon; the sun is a huge red shield; the world is smoke.
Another regiment has gone in; the roar of battle grows; crowds of
wounded go by; a battery gallops headlong to the rear ... the men madly
lash the horses.

"_Bat-tal-ion_--ATTENTION!"

Our time is upon us; the Eleventh, stands and forms.

"_For-ward_--MARCH!"

The dust is so dense that I can see nothing in the front, ... but we are
moving. Smith drops; Lewis falls to the rear; the ranks are thinning;
elbows touch no longer ... our pace quickens ... a horrid impatience
seizes me ... through the smoke I see the cannons ... faster, faster ...
I see the rebel line--a tempest breaks in my face--"_Surrender, you
damned Yankee!_"

III

I BREAK MY MUSKET

"And, spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile."--SHAKESPEARE.

I am running for life--a mass of fugitives around me--disorderly mob ...
I look behind--nothing but smoke ... I begin to walk.

The army was lost; it was no longer an army. As soon as the men had run
beyond gunshot they began to march, very deliberately, each one for
himself, away from the field. Companies, regiments, and brigades were
intermingled. If the rebels had been in condition to pursue us, many
thousands of our men would have fallen into their hands.

In vain I tried to find some group of Company D. Suddenly I felt
exhausted--sick from hunger and fatigue--and was compelled to stop and
rest. The line of the enemy did not seem to advance, and firing in our
rear had ceased.

A man of our company passed me--Edmonds. I called to him, "Where is the
company?"

"All gone," said he; "and you'd better get out of that, too, as quick as
you can."

"Tell me who is hurt," said I.

But he was gone, and I felt that it would not do for me to remain where
I was. I remembered Dr. Khayme's encouraging words as to my will, and by
great effort resolved to rise and run.

At length, as I was going down the slope toward the creek, I heard my
name called. I looked round, and saw a man waving his hand, and heard
him call me again. I went toward him. It was Willis; he was limping;
his hat was gone; everything was gone; in fact, he was hardly able
to march.

"Where are you hit?" I asked.

"The knee," he replied.

"Bad?"

"I don't think it is serious; it seems to me that it don't pain me as it
did awhile ago."

"Can you hold out till we find an ambulance?" I asked.

"Well, that depends; I guess all the ambulances are neede