nd
upright. I had been shot through the left lung, and as I felt the
great gaping wound in my chest, the blood gushing and spluttering out
at every breath, I began to realize my situation. I tried to get off
the field the best I could, the bullet in my leg not troubling me
much, and as yet, I felt strong enough to walk. My brother, who was a
surgeon, and served three years in the hospitals in Richmond, but now
in the ranks, came to my aid and led me to the rear. We stopped near
the railroad battery, which was belching away, the report of the great
gun bringing upon us the concentrated fire of the enemy. As I sat upon
the fallen trunk of a tree my brother made a hasty examination of my
wound. All this while I was fully convinced I was near death's door.
He pronounced my wound at first as fatal, a bit of very unpleasant
information, but after probing my wound with his finger he gave me the
flattering assurance that unless I bled to death quite soon my chances
might be good! Gentle reader, were you ever, as you thought, at
death's door, when the grim monster was facing you, when life looked
indeed a very brief span? If so, you can understand my feelings--I was
scared! As Goldsmith once said, "When you think you are about to die,
this world looks mighty tempting and pretty." Everything in my front
took on the hue of dark green, a pleasant sensation came over me, and
I had the strangest feeling ever experienced in my life. I thought
sure I was dying then and there and fell from the log in a death-like
swoon. But I soon revived, having only fainted from loss of blood, and
my brother insisted on my going back up the railroad to a farmhouse
we had passed, and where our surgeons had established a hospital. The
long stretch of wood we had to travel was lined with the wounded, each
wounded soldier with two or three friends helping him off the field.
We had no "litter bearers" or regular detail to care for the wounded
at this time, and the friends who undertook this service voluntarily
oftentimes depleted the ranks more than the loss in battle. Hundreds
in this way absented themselves for a few days taking care of the
wounded. But all this was changed soon afterwards. Regular details
were made from each regiment, consisting of a non-commissioned
officer and five privates, whose duty it was to follow close in
rear of the line of battle with their "stretchers" and take off the
disabled.

I will never forget the scene that met my eye