battle. Moving on
through the thick underbrush, the enemy was quickly encountered. Their
first volley was deadly. A ball struck Boss. M'Cullough in the forehead.
He fell dead, a portion of his shattered brain lodging on the arm of
John Stanley, a boy of seventeen, who had come to us during the Spring.
John shuddered, shook it from the sleeve of his blouse, raised his gun
and began firing. Captain Jones, of Company A, White, of Company C, and
many others, fell dead before this first volley. Soon it was discovered
that the division was flanked. Our line was at right angles with the
position in which the subsequent fighting took place. To crown all, the
woods took fire, and soon the only problem that remained was to withdraw
as quickly and safely as possible.

While this turmoil was progressing, to me so strange and bewildering,
the surgeon, Dr. Lyon, came across me, and directed me to go to a
certain point at the edge of the woods, east of the Wilderness Tavern,
to help care for the wounded. Thither I made my way. As I passed on
through the woods, I was soon out of reach of the bullets, which had
been flying thick and fast. When I came to the open ground, I saw more
clearly than ever the results of the battle, still going on in the woods
beyond. The multitude of wounded and dying men crowded the road. Some
were limping painfully along; others were being carried on stretchers,
or helped along by comrades.

Reaching the designated place, I found the field tents erected, and all
full of suffering men. I took charge of one in which were twenty-seven
wounded, several amputations, and other bad cases. They lay with their
heads toward the canvas, a narrow path being left between their feet.
All that could be done for them was to give them food and water, bathe
their wounds, and render any little service by which their sufferings
might be mitigated. Their heroic patience astonished me. Men, torn and
mangled, would utter no groan, nor give any vocal expression to the
agonies which racked them, except sometimes when sleep or delirium found
the overmastering will off guard.

Toward evening I learned that the regiment was just beyond the
Wilderness tavern; and, getting relieved for a short time, I started to
go to them, as I had the extra coffee of the mess. As I came in sight,
they moved hurriedly away toward the right, where the battle was raging
fiercely. It was useless to follow, and I began to retrace my steps.
Pausing a mome