The captain was on the roof with a red-headed major from Memphis--a fine-looking man.

I heard him say he wanted to leave here, but 'that pilot is killed.' I crept over to the starboard side to pull the bell to set her back; raised up and took a look, and I saw about fifteen shot holes through the window panes; had come so lively I hadn't noticed them.

I glanced out on the water, and the spattering shot were like a hailstorm.

I thought best to get out of that place.

I went down the pilot-house guy, head first--not feet first but head first--slid down--before I struck the deck, the captain said we must leave there.