As the enemy prepared for an assault, we too prepared. Two battalions took positions behind the wall, with ours being on the far left, while two more were in the rear with the artillery. To accommodate the number of troops, the men were four deep along our entire front. The first assault quickly faltered as their lines wasted away under the fire from our rifles. While a few had retreated, most were left dead or dying on the field. One Yankee took cover behind his fallen comrades and continued to fire upon us. One of our men got him within his sights; a thunderous crack rang out from his rifle and he was silenced. They attacked again and again. The rifle fire was the most continuous I have ever witnessed, with the man at the wall firing while the three behind him were loading and passing the loaded rifles to him. The rifle fire was joined with the artillery battery firing over our heads. Our battalion retired to the rear and was replaced on the wall with another. Our battalion continued to fire from our new position, on the right of the artillery. Every attack was repulsed with the enemy never reaching the wall. Finally, the attacks ceased. I do not know if the futility of their undertaking was realized, or if they simply ran out of troops, but I suspect the later.
With the battle over, the sound of shot and shell was replaced by the sounds of the wounded. The surgeons began to search for those that may be saved, while other gruesome tasks lay ahead in the aftermath. It is truly a shame that so many lives are cut short, and so many must suffer the horrors of war, when all the South wants is to be let alone.
