oting bullets." But I
nevertheless remember many things that came under my observation in this
battle. I remember a man by the name of Smith stepping deliberately
out of the ranks and shooting his finger off to keep out of the fight;
of another poor fellow who was accidentally shot and killed by the
discharge of another person's gun, and of others suddenly taken sick with
colic. Our regiment was the advance guard on Saturday evening, and did a
little skirmishing; but General Gladden's brigade passed us and assumed
a position in our immediate front. About daylight on Sunday morning,
Chalmers' brigade relieved Gladden's. As Gladden rode by us, a courier
rode up and told him something. I do not know what it was, but I heard
Gladden say, "Tell General Bragg that I have as keen a scent for Yankees
as General Chalmers has."

On Sunday morning, a clear, beautiful, and still day, the order was
given for the whole army to advance, and to attack immediately. We
were supporting an Alabama brigade. The fire opened--bang, bang, bang,
a rattle de bang, bang, bang, a boom, de bang, bang, bang, boom, bang,
boom, bang, boom, bang, boom, bang, boom, whirr-siz-siz-siz--a ripping,
roaring boom, bang! The air was full of balls and deadly missiles.
The litter corps was carrying off the dying and wounded. We could hear
the shout of the charge and the incessant roar of the guns, the rattle
of the musketry, and knew that the contending forces were engaged in a
breast to breast struggle. But cheering news continued to come back.
Every one who passed would be hailed with, "Well, what news from the
front?" "Well, boys, we are driving 'em. We have captured all their
encampments, everything that they had, and all their provisions and army
stores, and everything."

As we were advancing to the attack and to support the Alabama brigade in
our front, and which had given way and were stricken with fear, some of
the boys of our regiment would laugh at them, and ask what they were
running for, and would commence to say "Flicker! flicker! flicker!"
like the bird called the yellowhammer, "Flicker! flicker! flicker!"
As we advanced, on the edge of the battlefield, we saw a big fat colonel
of the 23rd Tennessee regiment badly wounded, whose name, if I remember
correctly, was Matt. Martin. He said to us, "Give 'em goss, boys.
That's right, my brave First Tennessee. Give 'em Hail Columbia!"
We halted but a moment, and said I, "Colonel, where are