The first and second divisions of Sheridan's cavalry corps led the advance from the line of the North Anna, when the Army of the Potomac executed another left-flank movement, crossing to the south bank of the river the day after our return from the raid around Richmond. The third division, commanded by Wilson, was detached from the corps, and sent to look after the right flank of Grant's army. Sheridan accompanied the advance, and he was instructed to put out and feel the enemy. Gregg's division engaged in a lively brush with the rebels at a place called Hawes's Shop, May 27. The enemy had us at a great disadvantage, being posted behind breastworks. An infantry brigade with long toms kept the minie balls pinging around our ears, while the sharp reports of carbines, the cheers of our boys as they pushed forward, the rebel yell and the booming of field pieces gave warning to the troops in our rear that the cavalry was at it again. We ran into the rebels rather unexpectedly, although we knew that they were close at hand. Our advance guard was fired on as the detachment approached a belt of timber skirting the road. In a few minutes our whole division was under fire, and the Johnnies stubbornly contested every inch of ground which they occupied. While we were closing in on the rebel intrenchments, a young trooper on my right asked me if I had any water. I reached him my canteen. Just as he raised it to his lips a bullet from a rebel musket struck it, knocking it out of the trooper's hand. “That's blasted mean!” he exclaimed. “Pick up the canteen, maybe the water hasn't all run out,” I shouted. “It's all gone,” he said. The ball had passed through, tearing a big hole in the tin. “Take a drink from my canteen,” said another trooper, who had witnessed the incident. “Thank you.” And holding the canteen up above his head, the thirsty soldier shouted: “Now, you miserable gray backs, shoot away; spoil this canteen, will you?” Whiz! thug! And the second canteen was struck by a musket-ball and ruined. “I guess I'm not as thirsty as I thought I was,” remarked the young cavalryman, as he declined the offer of another canteen. A sergeant of a Pennsylvania regiment in the second brigade, was severely wounded in the leg. Two comrades attempted to assist him back behind a tree to the left of the road. The wounded non-commissioned officer was carried on a piece of board, which the troopers held between them, and supported himself by holding on to their shoulders. Just as they were passing our position in line, a shell struck the board, and stove it into splinters. The sergeant was thrown on one side of the road, and his two comrades on the other. I thought they were dead, but in a few seconds the sergeant raised up on his elbow and called out: “Jackson, are you killed?” “No, sir; but I'm unconscious.” “Where's Corbet?” “Here, sir; but I'm unconscious, too. There's no breath left in me body.”