The air was full of hissing shells, which passed so close to us that we could feel their hot breath, and one would involuntarily clap his hand to his head expecting his cap to be swept off. Our position was so near the enemy that occasionally a shell would burst over us, wounding some of our men. Lieut. Col. Palmer of our regiment was so wounded, a ball from a spherical cased shell striking him in the breast and, passing through his body, lodged back of the shoulder blade. Palmer sat down under a tree and told our surgeon to cut it out. The doctor suggested that he better take something for the operation. But Palmer’s grit was of the right sort and taking off his slouch hat he slapped the ground with it and said: “Go ahead, doc, and cut the damned thing out, and be lively about it, too, for others need your attention.” Finally the casualties became so numerous that Maj. McKay went to the artillery officer and told him he was killing off our own men and if he did not cut his fuses longer he would order his regiment to take the battery, and when a little later a staff officer rode over and ordered the major under arrest he found out that a captain of a battery was one not to be fooled with when in line of duty. RATIONS AND A CLOSE CALL. In the afternoon we heard the welcome news that rations were waiting us in the rear and details were made from the several companies to go after them. The writer went with Sergt. “West” Powell and the squad from our company. In order to get back to the supply trains it was necessary for us to cross several open spaces fully exposed to the fire of the confederates. When we came to such a place we would separate, run a few yards and throw ourselves on the ground, while the bullets would go whizzing over our heads. On our return each one carried a rubber blanket slung over his shoulder, containing rations for our hungry comrades. While we were creeping along close to an abandoned earthwork a shell struck the bank and exploding, hurled dirt and gravel over and about us. Something struck me on the side of my head and thinking I was shot I fell on the ground and called to my companions. They gathered around and on examination found I was sound except for a discolored spot and a stinging sensation probably caused by a small stone striking me. My nerves were thoroughly shattered, however, and it took some minutes for me to muster up courage to get on my feet and face the music again. MEMORIES OF AN IMPRESSIVE SCENE. The 5th and 9th corps caught up with the army that day and while we were back at the wagon train we saw them marching into position on the left of our corps preparatory to the assault that was delivered later in the day.