Now, if you wish, kind reader, to find out how many were killed and wounded, I refer you to the histories.
I remember one little incident that I laughed at while in the very midst of battle.

We were charging through an old citizen's yard, when a big yellow cur dog ran out and commenced snapping at the soldiers' legs-- they kicking at him to keep him off.

The next morning he was lying near the same place, but he was a dead dog.
I helped bring off our wounded that night.

We worked the whole night.
The next morning about daylight a wounded comrade, Sam Campbell, complained of being cold, and asked me to lie down beside him.

I did so, and was soon asleep; when I awoke the poor fellow was stiff and cold in death.