country, and keep it whole, so that it will be the home of all who are oppressed by foreign tyrants, no matter from what country they come. The scenes around a field hospital will baffle all description; the bringing back the worst of the wounded on stretchers, men hobbling back, shot in the leg or arm; men wounded in all conceivable shapes, in the head, limbs and body; the groans and shouts of the sufferers; amputated limbs heaped up around the dissecting tables; hundreds under the influence of chloroform, and cuttting up all kind of antics; all make up a scene that would melt a heart of stone at the suffering that is all around. This is my first instance in a field hospital, and I hope my last. We witness great suffering on the field in the heat of battle, but everybody is so excited that no one will think much of it, but here in the hospital one can see and appreciate all the sufferings of the wounded soldier. CHAPTER XLII. GETTING WELL AGAIN-BACK WITH MY REGIMENT-A LONG About the 20th of June I make a start for the regiment. The doctor thinks I had better stay back for a while, but I want to get back, for it seems a long while to be away, two weeks. But what has been done in those two weeks? more slaughtering on the LINE, but the army has pulled up at last, and have been thundering away at the gates of Richmond. But we cannot force them, and a long siege is now before us. My comrades are all glad to see me back. I miss a goodly number of brave boys, who have fallen since I left. We have hard work now before us, for we lay right down to the siege-nothing but digging and picketing is the order of the day, mixed up with a charge now and then, by way of a change. Our corps, the Second, under General Hancock, is assigned a position in the center, and we strive now to build coverings for protection from the rebel shells and the heat of the burning sun, for the weather is extremely warm and a large number are overcome with heat and hard work. We are so close to the rebel lines that we can plainly hear them posting their watch on picket. But neither the enemy nor our men fire on each other, and all is quiet along the lines, but an occasional artillery duel between our batteries and the enemy's, so once in a while we have to bow our heads in submission to the rebel shells. Our sutlers all get up again, and we get what we want in the way of luxuries. We have to keep moving from one part of the line to another, and are only two or three days in a place. We build comfortable quarters in one place to-day and to-morrow have to leave them, and so on with every regiment in the army. We receive a despatch every morning from the rebels by the way of the "PETERSBURG EXPRESS," a large gun that they fire, which they have named after the paper of that place, which is issued in the city. Despatches of this kind we can get along without very well. But they will force them upon us, so we have to receive them as courteously as we can. But the Fourth of July is now at hand, and we return the salute of our old friend, the "Petersburg Express," ten fold. The glorious Fourth is ushered in by firing a shotted salute of thirty-seven guns, to let our neighbors know that we still believe in the union of all the States. Our misguided brothers in arms cannot appreciate our way of celebrating, but we cannot help it, for we must fire salutes in honor of the day, and we are not going to turn our guns around, so they must put up with our shotted salutes. We have swung around a good many circles since our first Fourth of July, in Washington. What hardships we have endured since then no one can tell, and now that we have passed through such bloody ordeals, we cannot realize fully that we have experienced such tiresome marches and fearful battles. As we look over the past, to most of us it seems like a dream. A bloody panorama is spread before our gaze, from the bloody fields of first Bull Run, down the majestic Potomac, across the beautiful Chesapeake. We confront on the Peninsula the rebel army, and fight them up to the very gates of their capital. Then come our seven days of fearful fighting, our tiresome and thirsty marching over the same ground, and once more we fight the enemy on the old battle ground of First Bull Run. Next the bloody battles of South Mountain and Antitam were fought on the loyal soil of Maryland, and the rebel horde were swept back to their sacred soil. Next the long and fatiguing marches to Fredericksburg, to fight on the gory field at that place; next we are stuck in the mud, and the bloody battle of Chancellorsville is fought; then we chase the rebel army into Pennsylvania, and after three days' dreadful fighting at Gettysburg, drive them once more to their sacred soil; next we climb to the tops of the mountains and there meet and drive the rebels off, who fly ignominiously across the Shenandoah into the valley; then comes our trip to the North to enforce the draft; the winter at Brandy Station, followed by the fearful campaign which we have just gone through, from the Wilderness to our present siege at the gates of the rebel Capital. Who will not say that the three years just passed have not been the most fearful and bloody of modern times? But now what must be done? Of course, as our present Commander, General Grant, has said, we must still fight on this LINE if it takes all summer. The Fourth of July is ended by firing more salutes in honor of the glorious day we are trying to hand down from our fathers to OUR sons, thence from them to time immemorial. CHAPTER XLIII. ORDERS TO MARCH WITH THREE DAYS' RATIONS-A FORCED MARCH-ON THE PENINSULA AGAIN-BATTLE OF DEEP BOTTOM-AN INCIDENT-FAILURE OF A FLANK MOVEMENT-FORCED MARCH BACK ΤΟ PETERSBURG-BLOWING UP A REBEL FORT-A FALURE. All is quiet in the Potomac Army, but not very long, for we get the order to move again. We have now some nice works and forts built along the line in the face of the rebel stronghold. We get the orders to march with three days' rations in our haversacks. Where to? now is asked, one of another, but no one can tell with any certainty, and we file out of our late camp, moving to the right. We have a forced march before us, and the order is for every man to keep in his place. The night is very dark and warm. Clouds of dust envelope us, and we trudge along the road passing by fires that are kept burning to guide us on our way. After a weary and fatiguing march we pull up at the mouth of the Appomattox river, and cross over on pontoons that are laid down for us. We step once more on the Peninsula and advance. About eight o'clock in the morning we are met in some fields by our friends, the Johnnies, who are ready to give us a warm reception. It is now clear to us that a movement on the enemy's flank is meditated, and we pitch in and fight the battle of Deep Bottom. A large number are engaged on both sides, and every place we try the enemy's lines we are met by numbers equal to our own. An incident happens in this battle that is worthy of note, as it relates to Anna, the daughter of our regiment, which is deployed as skirmishers in the woods. The place for the colors at such a time is in the rear, far enough from the skirmish line to keep in sight. Our regiment, the Fifth, are having lively times on the line, commanded by our gallant Lieutenant-Colonel, Dan. S. Root, as brave an officer as there is in the army in battle, while in camp he is the personification of mildness to a fault. The Colonel arose from the ranks by his bravery and good conduct. He knows how to appreciate the love of his men, who now are forcing the rebel skirmishers, and they fall back to their main support, when their reserve open out a withering fire on our men. Anna has remained with the colors, but this time we are up too close to the front line, and unless we get back we may be captured. So we have to do some |