Tuesday, May 31.— We were ordered out to the front, and took possession of some rifle-pits. Remained there but a few minutes as the enemy were found to be in strong force. Had two men shot while moving out, by the enemy’s sharpshooters. Went back to our old rifle-pits, but about two o’clock were ordered out again, the 56th being deployed as skirmishers in front of the brigade. Moved forward and took possession of the pits we vacated in the morning. Skirmishers were thrown out 6o paces in front of the rifle-pits. Had some heavy skirmishing for about an hour. Lost two men killed, and thirteen wounded, and one officer. About dark the brigade was withdrawn, the 56th remaining until 12 P.M., when we were relieved.
[I cannot find from my diary exactly when what I am about to narrate here occurred, but it was somewhere within a day or two, if it was not this very day. We were ordered out to attack the enemy, and it was to be in the nature of a surprise as far as possible, so that orders were given that no one should speak above a whisper. All orders were whispered to the men, and we were told, in marching forward, to try and not even break the branches on the ground that we were treading on. It was a beautiful summer’s day, birds were singing and the sun shimmering and shining through the trees. Everything as far as nature was concerned was as far removed from the idea or appearance of war as it possibly could be. I do not think that the suspense of going into a fight was ever so trying as it was on this occasion, and that is why I mention it here. It made such an impression on me that it will last the rest of my life. Everything, as I have said, in the surroundings breathed of peace and beauty and quiet and the loveliness of nature. Contrasted with it, we knew that within two or three minutes there would be a fight, and while advancing and waiting for the first shot to come, I had all I could do to keep myself up to my duty. When the first shot was fired, I did not care, the charm was broken, and I was ready to do my duty; but the suspense of waiting for this was perfectly awful.]
