the minds of those of us who witnessed them as long as life lasts, were to be seen.
Private Moses A. Rawlinson
, of Company G (Edisto Rifles), was knocked from the parapet, where he was fearlessly doing his duty as a sharpshooter, to the middle of the parade, a distance of forty or fifty feet, going fully twenty feet in the air in his passage.
The brave fellow never let his rifle go, but fell with it in his hands.
Private Robert E. Dukes
, of Company C (Wee Nee Volunteers), who was one of the litter-bearers for the day, was standing by me at the entrance of one of the covered ways.
He and another member of the infirmary corps (whose name I would like to mention, but I have forgotten it) started to bring Rawlinson
into the bomb-proof hospital to the surgeon.
I stopped them, because it seemed to me to be almost certain death to go to him till the iron hail slacked a little.
I thought he was dead.
In a few minutes he was discovered to move a little.
I then told them he must be brought in. They did their duty fearlessly, but their tenderness to the poor fellow and their bravery was useless.
He died in a few minutes after he was brought in. Lieutenant Henry Montgomery, Jr.
, of Company C, was killed about ten or eleven o'clock in the morning.
A piece of shell took off the greater portion of his head.
A Christian gentleman, true-hearted patriot, and brave soldier was lost in him.
A good many of the mortar shells being visible, as they came hissing and spluttering into our works, could be avoided.
guns sent their shells without warning.
The fort was now being so rapidly demolished that it soon became evident that it could not stand a much longer continuation of the bombardment.
The parapet of the salient was gone, and the ditch at that point was filling with the drift.
Other parts of the fort were going rapidly, and it seemed that the bomb-proofs would soon succumb to this destructive fire.
There were two guns still mounted this morning on the sea face of the fort.
The one nearest the magazine was thrown from its carriage by the enemy's fire, and the mass of ruins, made up of the platform on which it had stood and the gun-carriage, was set on fire by the exploding shells.
This gun was heavily loaded, and when it fell was pointing directly towards our magazine, in which a large quantity of powder was stored.
For a while it seemed that the magazine was in great danger from the burning mass and from our own gun, which we expected momentarily would be fired by the heat.
As I have already said, it was next to impossible for anything to live at any point upon which the fire of the enemy was concentrated.
The extinguishing of the flames was, therefore, a work of difficulty and great danger,