Near Pittsburg Landing
Tuesday, April 8, 1862

Dear Friend Martin,

I was sorry to hear that you had been sent to hospital and thought I would write a few lines to help you while away the time, although I fear that my news may not lift your spirits. I am also enclosing a stamp so you may write back. I suppose you have heard of the big battle. The sound of the artillery would be hard to miss even from where you are. Pvt. Pease and I were detailed as provost guards to Battn headquarters; of course we also ended up acting more or less as orderlies and couriers; you know how fond infantry officers are of using cavalry for that sort of ornamental duty.

Well on the 6th the Confederate army caught us flat footed so to speak, got to within a mile of us on the Corinth road without anyone knowing the better. If there had not been a reconnaissance party out we would have had less notice than we did. Still, the Rebels charged forward, covering that mile in minutes, and our boys had not even the chance to pull on their coats;—it was grab weapons and cartridge-boxes and skedaddle out of there. Many had no canteens or haversacks to their great regret as the day wore on. I didn’t even have time to get the horses to the Colonel and his bugler. They were yelling (and bugling) to the men to form and fire, it was a running battle. Our front line (such as it was) was overrun and our camp captured.

As the Rebels tried to flank us we made a stand a dense thicket of oaks—we pulled up fence rails, branches, &c. to defend ourselves as best we could. I was running here and there delivering messages, trying to bring in reinforcements, but there were none to be had. It was absolutely the hottest place you ever heard of. It was strange, I found myself listening to the different sounds made by the projectiles being directed at us. Seven hours we fought there before the tattered remnants of our men withdrew towards the river. I saw our colonel go down. That was hard for me—in my positi