John D. Billings, The history of the Tenth Massachusetts battery of light artillery in the war of the rebellion

[232] slightly. To this grim kind of music we are compelled to dance attendance in our exposed position, with positive instructions against letting our Rodmans ‘talk back.’ The horses are soon ordered down behind the hill, for greater security; but we cannoneers lie flat on the ground and watch that battery, hugging the bosom of mother earth with a display of affection never realized before, as a puff of smoke is seen to issue from those distant woods, and we await with suspended breath the succeeding moment to elapse, whose termination may lay some of us by the side of Mullett. A heavy plunge close beside us announces that the shell has come, and we are sprinkled with the flying gravel. Another puff, and an explosion overhead fills the air with hurtling missiles of death. What shall we do? We are dying a thousand deaths a minute, so intense is our feeling under this suspense. We finally receive the welcome orders to draw back down behind the crest; but this comparatively blissful seclusion lasts only a few minutes ere we are ordered back again, and again we commence firing with the same result as before. A second time we retire, by orders, and by orders are restored to the post a third and final time. The last brigade was now across, and at this moment Gen. Barlow, at the head of his division, came over the hill past our guns. This elicited fresh attention from the Rebel battery, at which the General ordered his color-bearer to lower the headquarters flag. ‘Why don't this battery open fire on them?’ said the General, addressing no one in particular. He was speedily informed that we were acting under orders. Nothing would have pleased us better or relieved us so much as an opportunity to measure mettle with this persistent antagonist. Tenth Batterymen saw war