"We went about our work with pale faces and trembling hands, yet trying to appear composed for the sake of our patients, who were much excited. We could hear the incessant explosions of artillery, the shrieking whistling of the shells, and the sharper, deadlier, more thrilling roll of musketry: while every now and then the echo of some charging cheer would come, borne by the wind, and as the human voice pierced that demoniacal clangor we would catch our breath and listen, and try not to sob, and turn back to forlorn hospitals, to the suffering at our feet and before our eyes, while imagination fainted at the thought of those other scenes hidden from us beyond the Potomac. "On our side of the river there were noise, confusion, dust; throngs of stragglers; horsemen galloping about; wagons blocking each other, and teamsters wrangling; and a continued din of shouting, swearing and rumbling, in the midst of which men were dying, fresh wounded arriving, surgeons amputating limbs and dressing wounds, women going in and out with bandages, lint, medicines, food. An everpresent sense of anguish, dread, pity, and, I fear, hatred--these are my recollections of Antietam." * * * * * LEAVING our invalid motor in care of a garage mechanic we boarded a Norfolk & Western train Monday morning to visit Antietam battlefield. It is a ride of less than 10 minutes from Shepherdstown to the station of Antietam which is adjacent to the village of Sharpsburg. The half a century that has passed since the war has witnessed but slight change here. Nearly all the houses are of the antebellum type. The woods have been cleared at various places over the field, but otherwise the landscape has changed but little when compared with wartime photographs and sketches of the battle. A walk through the town and the national cemetery brought us to the Hagerstown pike which parallels the battle lines on the northern half of the field. Threatening weather called for haste and I was obliged to forego the pleasure of a ramble to familiar scenes around the picturesque Burnside bridge which I had photographed 11 years before. We were interested in two parts of the field--the line of Anderson's Confederate division and the position occupied by Hooker on the Union right. In locating the former we soon found ourselves in Piper's lane and walked down to the gray stone barn which stands as solid today as on that Wednesday afternoon when Hill and Sumner struggled for the mastery of this blood-drenched farmstead.