Today Maj. Gen Thomas C Hindman commanded us into battle up in Arkansas, more specifically, Prairie Grove. Soon after we arrived on the ground we were firing and just after I had discharged my piece at a Johnnies head I turned to reload and while in the act of charging cartridge I saw a Reb who had got sight of me across his musket, and I can assure you my legs grew very short in a very short space of time or else there was a joint in them, that is to say I dropped down out of his sight just in time to hear his bullet whistle over my head. Then knowing the danger had passed I straightened up and finished loading. This was my best and worse experience.

Most of the heavy gun positions were complete. As soon as our guns were in place, we began firing one round every 15 minutes. The pounding noise from the timed circle of fire was hard on the Confederates’ nerves, and it was meant to be. Along the Northern lines, Blunt, Herrons and Hustons 30-       pounder Parrotts fired with good effect, their shots destroying the Confederate grain mill’s machinery. Exploding shells also set fire to storage buildings and dismounted several Rebel guns. At night, Confederate ordnance men worked feverishly under cover of darkness to repair the damaged gun carriages. The 1st Alabama’s men, ducking the Parrott’s fire in their rifle pits, named one of the 30-pounders ‘Whistling Dick’ because of the swooshing noise its huge shells made in flight.