My Regiment was advanced without any support to within three hundred yards of a strong rebel breastwork where they had eight pieces in position and nicely covered and we being entirely exposed. We stood there fighting an unseen foe for an hour and a half without flinching, while the enemy’s shells and grapes fell like hail in our ranks, tearing down large trees and filling the air with splinters. Two or three of my men had their heads torn off close down to the shoulders and others had fearful wounds.
…
Our Surgeons got separated from us, and putting our wounded in a deserted house, I stripped my arms to dress their wounds myself. Poor Fellows! I was but an awkward surgeon, of course, but I hope I gave them some relief. There were some ghastly wounds…. I pulled out of one poor fellow’s arm a splinter five or six inches long and as thick as my three fingers.
Letter to Caroline Harrison, June 18th, 1864.
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