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

[222] plant a battery there or make an advance from that quarter. But having done this some time, our vigils relax, and we lie scattered about in the shade, some asleep, some chatting upon various topics or guessing at the whereabouts of a Rebel battery, the whistle of whose shots is so distinctly heard in our direct front, and whom they are engaged with, when suddenly a puff of smoke issues from the edge of the woods on the slope at the left of the road, and simultaneously a shell bursts low directly between two of our guns.

There must have been a comical sight presented to the view of the Rebel officer in charge of that battery, if at the moment his glass was levelled on us, for a livelier getting up and scrambling for posts could not be imagined. Shell after shell came whizzing over us, plunging into the woods in our rear, or exploding above us, scattering their fragments with a horrible sound that made the flesh creep. They had us in perfect range from the first shot. One of their missiles took off the head of an orderly as he sat on his horse.

But whatever amusement our appearance may have caused at the outset, it certainly was of brief continuance, and soon gave way to an earnestness to which we are sure the aforesaid officer would bear convincing testimony. The moments that we waited for the first round seemed long, for we stood out on the bald ridge, a conspicuous mark; but our turn came at last, and now our six ‘Rodmans,’ opening their iron throats, send back greetings two to one, and soon ‘dust’ them out of their position. The whole affair did not occupy twenty-five minutes. We expended about seventy rounds of ammunition during its continuance.¹ Our pickets who