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[462] suffering, and then, hurrying on, was soon in another line of battle hotly engaged with the enemy, who were plainly visible in heavy force through the open woods. There was no charging, but the two opposing lines were deliberately standing and pouring into each other a perfect hailstorm of bullets, while men were dropping like slaughtered beeves on both sides. A gallant officer was riding along the Confederate lines giving orders and inspiring the men by his valorous deeds and heroic courage in the face of death. It was Colonel Richmond, of General Polk's staff. My nerves grew steadier, and advancing to the front, I found myself all at once fighting in the ranks of the old One Hundred and Fifty-fourth Tennessee regiment. There was no time to look for my company, so raising my gun I took deliberate aim and fired. It was my only shot, for as I was in the act of loading a ball came crashing through my canteen, and as the water poured out and soaked through to my skin, I imagined that the blood was gushing from a mortal wound, and, without waiting to see what damage my body had sustained, started off to the surgeon. On my arrival at the hospital tent, after an examination by Dr. Woodward, the gratifying discovery was made that my canteen had received a mortal wound, while I had escaped with a slight flesh wound, which, however, would have proved more serious but for the protection afforded by the canteen in breaking the force of the ball. More water than blood was shed, and I am thankful for my escape with my life. My hip is quite sore, and as my wound is too painful to admit of my walking, I was placed in a wagon along with other wounded and started off to Corinth yesterday. We are having a rough time. The roads are in a dreadful condition, and the unmerciful jolting of the wagon extorts groans, and at times even shrieks, of pain from the poor fellows who are suffering from severe wounds.

April 11th.—We are encamped about two miles from Corinth, on the Mobile and Ohio railroad. My wound is healing rapidly, though it is still quite painful. It was not serious enough for a furlough, and yet too serious to admit of my reporting for duty. Many of my personal friends were killed in the bloody battle of Shiloh. The One Hundred and Fifty-fourth Tennessee regiment lost 196 in killed and wounded. General Beauregard, for some reason, failed to follow up the success of Sunday's battle, and on Monday the army retreated in good order, leaving the Federals too badly crippled to follow in pursuit.

April 14th.—Reported for duty, and spent the morning cleaning

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