The writer, the youngest of four brothers, was mustered into the volunteer service, Aug. 5, 1862, at the age of 16 years, having been rejected the year before on account of age and an over supply of men. His regiment, the Twenty-second Mass. Vol. Infantry (Henry Wilson Regiment), was a fighting regiment from Boston and vicinity. Only 45 Union Infantry regiments lost 200 and upwards in killed and died of wounds on the field during the Civil War. The Twenty-second lost 216 and stands 27 in that list. In a list of all Union Infantry regiments that lost over 10 per cent in killed on the field, it stands number 13--with a percentage of 15.5 per cent--and, based upon a maximum percentage of enrollment (1393 men), it stands number 16--("Fox's Regimental Losses")-- Its service was in the First Brigade--First Division--Fifth Corps, Army of the Potomac. We recruits arrived on Arlington Heights to join this fighting regiment, en route (whereabouts not located) from the "seven days' battles" on the Peninsula. The officer in charge of us had given us no drills--no training of any kind. He was returning from leave, and spent most of his time _rusticating_ around the "Old Willard". We joined the regiment at Halls Hill, Va. (near Falls Church), bivouacked in a battle line as it was marching into the defences of W---- from the second battle of Bull Run. The noise of battle was on; a spluttering picket firing was in evidence a few hundred yards from us. During our stay here of two days--a first class drill sergeant gave us an hour each day in the "facings" and the use of our guns, which had been issued to us at midnight of Aug. 29--in a terrific thunder storm, during which we were soaked--and in a bivouac without shelter. This consisted of instructions in taking them apart, cleaning, assembling, rapid loading and sighting. We remained in reserve in the fortifications of Washington, marching hither and thither until Sept. 12--when we started, in a temperature of 98 deg., after a drenching night's storm, on the Antietam Campaign-- There was no time for further training. We were put on the battle line--sandwiched between our Peninsula veterans of seven battles. The lines were so close that our range was practically point blank. There was no adjustment of sights--no wind guages--none of the usual methods for work on a target range. It made little difference whether the trajectory was flat or otherwise. Any boy who had ever used a shot gun could load and blaze away into the close lines. The line officers and file closers were veterans. The battle discipline was flawless-- We touched elbows with men who had acquired the battle sense and instinct in the hell of rifle fire--shell--shrapnel and close up canister guns of the 12 pdr Napoleon type. A few days after a bloody reconnoissance across the river, in which one of our regiments lost 289 men killed, wounded and missing in 20 minutes, we had a few days' drill--and that _was all we ever got_.