On the 18th of September our Division was bivouacked at Maclamore’s Cove, a few miles from Lee & Gordon’s Mills. Heavy skirmishing had been going on all day at Lee & Gordon’s Mills and Rossville between Crittenden and McCook’s forces and those of the enemy. About 4 P. M., the “Assembly” sounded and we “fell in” and commenced our march for the battlefield. At dark my Regt. was thrown out as flankers. We marched until 10 o’clock along the banks of a small creek while on the opposite side of the creek a similar line of the enemy marched parallel with us. We reached Crawfish Springs about 10 P. M., here we took the road again and continued our march until sunrise on the morning of the 19th when we halted and prepared breakfast. Before we had finished our breakfast we heard a terrible roar and crash of musketry to our front, which was east. This was the opening of the battle of Chickamauga. Immediately afterward an Aide came dashing up to Lieut. Col. Ely, commanding 10th Wis. We were ordered to fall in and load at will. Then the order was given “forward, double quick, march,” and forward we went through brush, over rocks and fallen trees, keeping our alignment almost as perfect as though we were marching in review. Very soon we began to hear the sharp “fizt and ping” of bullets, a sound already familiar to our ears for we were veterans of two years service, and then we began to take the Johnies in “out of the wet.” Forward, and still forward, we rushed all the time firing at the enemy who was falling back. After advancing nearly a mile in this manner we found the enemy, en masse, in the edge of a corn field. Our Division halted, the skirmishers fell back into line and the business of the day commenced in deadly earnest. We were ordered to lie down and load and fire at will. Reader, I wish I had the ability to describe what followed. Not more than twenty-five rods in front of us was a dense mass of rebs who were pouring in a shower of bullets that fairly made the ground boil. To the rear of my regiment was a section of Loomis’ 1st Mich. Battery which was firing double shotted canister over our heads. How we did hug the ground, bullets from the front like a swarm of bees, canister from the rear screeching and yelling like lost spirits in deepest sheol. But this could not last long, mortal man could not stand such a shower of lead while he had willing legs to carry him out of such a place.