. History of the Thirty-seventh regiment of Indiana infantry volunteers; its organization, campaigns, and battles--Sept. '61-Oct. '64 . the ground. We could see the tire leap-ing from the guns of our soldiers on our left, and hearthe bullets of the enemy whiz-zing past, but there was nolighting at our front, and wehad only one man it is in war. Sometimeswe plunge into danger whenwe little expect it, and some-times when we think we aremarching into the jaws ofdeath, the battle lifts and noone is hurt. At times whenthe battle is raging at itsfiercest, all in a few minuteswill become
. History of the Thirty-seventh regiment of Indiana infantry volunteers; its organization, campaigns, and battles--Sept. '61-Oct. '64 . the ground. We could see the tire leap-ing from the guns of our soldiers on our left, and hearthe bullets of the enemy whiz-zing past, but there was nolighting at our front, and wehad only one man it is in war. Sometimeswe plunge into danger whenwe little expect it, and some-times when we think we aremarching into the jaws ofdeath, the battle lifts and noone is hurt. At times whenthe battle is raging at itsfiercest, all in a few minuteswill become as quiet as anySabbath morning. We madetemporary fortifications there of logs and rails, and laiddown to rest. The night was dark and cold, and thegroans of the wounded in our front added to the gloomysurroundings. Thirty-seventh men carried back manypoor, wounded rebels that night and cared for them asbest they could. Before all the wounded were cared for, the queen ofthe night arose in all her splender and lighted up theblood-stained field with her cold rays. Col. Ward at thetime quoted the words: Twas a calm, still night, and. David H. Hair. Co. Intl. 56 HISTORY OF THE THIRTY-SEVENTH the cold, round moon looked down on the dead anddying. The night was cold, and the men sufferedgreatly, their clothing being wet with were not permitted to take their blankets fromtheir knapsacks, and were compelled to lie on the coldground shivering till the sun arose and warmed themwith its heat. No heavier frost was ever seen than laythat morning on the battle field of Chickamauga. Themoaning of the wounded had ceased the morning of the20th as the sun arose above the hills, and many soldiersslept that sleep that knows no waking. We gathered logs and rails out of which we madetemporary breast-works, and waited for the battle tobegin. A stiller Sabbath morning than that 20th morn-ing of September was never known. The silence wasoppressive. The tiring of a few guns of
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