on that bloody
Sunday will abide with me as long as I live.

CHAPTER IV.

SOME INCIDENTS OF THE BATTLE OF SHILOH.

There were many little incidents at Shiloh that came under my personal
observation that I did not mention in the foregoing sketch. The matter
of space was important, so I passed them over. But that consideration
does not arise now, and as I am writing this for you, I will say
something here about several things that I think may be of some
interest.

I distinctly remember my first shot at Shiloh. It was fired when we were
in our first position, as described in my account of the battle. I think
that when the boys saw the enemy advancing they began firing of their
own motion, without waiting for orders. At least, I don't remember
hearing any. I was in the front rank, but didn't fire. I preferred to
wait for a good opportunity, when I could take deliberate aim at some
individual foe. But when the regiment fired, the Confederates halted and
began firing also, and the fronts of both lines were at once shrouded in
smoke. I had my gun at a ready, and was trying to peer under the smoke
in order to get a sight of our enemies. Suddenly I heard some one in a
highly excited tone calling to me from just in my rear,--"Stillwell!
shoot! shoot! Why don't you shoot?" I looked around and saw that this
command was being given by Bob Wylder, our second lieutenant, who was in
his place, just a few steps to the rear. He was a young man, about
twenty-five years old, and was fairly wild with excitement, jumping up
and down "like a hen on a hot griddle." "Why, lieutenant," said I, "I
can't see anything to shoot at." "Shoot, shoot, anyhow!" "All right," I
responded, "if you say shoot, shoot it is;" and bringing my gun to my
shoulder, I aimed low in the direction of the enemy, and blazed away
through the smoke. I have always doubted if this, my first shot, did any
execution--but there's no telling. However, the lieutenant was clearly
right. Our adversaries were in our front, in easy range, and it was our
duty to aim low, fire in their general direction, and let fate do the
rest. But at the time the idea to me was ridiculous that one should
blindly shoot into a cloud of smoke without having a bead on the object
to be shot at. I had shot squirrels and rabbits, and other small game,
in the big woods adjacent to our backwoods home, from the time I was big
enough to carry a gun. In fact, I began when I was too small to sho