“When did you see your brother last?” I asked.

“About two months ago,” said he.

“Is he the only brother you have?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How does he like the army?”

“He liked it at first; Father tried to keep him from going, but he couldn’t.”

“And he doesn’t like it now?”

“No, sir; that he don’t.  He hated to go back, but he had to.”

“Say, young man,” said Rhodes; “have you got a brother in the Yankee army?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I don’t pay you a cent for this milk.”

I thought that the boy was greatly surprised to know that Rhodes had intended to pay.

* * * * *

On the last day of the month we moved again; the morning of July 1st found us marching eastward on the Cashtown road.  The heat was great, although the sun was not high.  The march was rapid and unobstructed, as though A.P.  Hill was soon to have work to do.  Heth’s division led the corps.  We descended from a range of high hills, having in our front an extensive region dotted over with farmhouses and with fertile fields interspersed with groves.  The march continued; steadily eastward went the corps.

At nine o’clock the spasmodic patter of rifles was heard in front.  We were halted.  Haskell’s battalion filed to the right, deployed, and the column marched on, with the sharp-shooters moving as skirmishers parallel with the brigade.

The firing in front increased.  The battalion flanked to the right and went forward in line to the top of a hill overlooking a large low plain to the south.  We halted in position, occupying a most formidable defensive line.  In our rear, half a mile, the division, and perhaps other divisions, went by into battle, and left us on the hill, protecting their flank and rear.

Cavalry were visible in our front.  They moved over the plain in many small groups, but throughout the day did not venture within range of our rifles.  A great engagement seemed in progress at our rear and left.  We could see the smoke of burning houses and see shells burst in the air, and could hear the shouts of our men as they advanced from one position to another, driving the enemy.

A little before sunset Captain Haskell came to me and handed me a folded paper.  “Find General Pender,” he said, “and give him this note.  I fear the battalion has been forgotten here, and I am asking for orders.  Be back as quickly as you can.”

My way was over the battlefield.  I passed between houses yet burning.  Dead and wounded lay intermingled, Federals and Confederates.  In one place behind a stone fence there were many blue corpses.  The ambulances and infirmary men were busy.  In a road I saw side by side a Confederate and a Federal.  The Confederate was on his back; his jacket was open; his shirt showed a great red splotch right on his breast.  Death must have been instantaneous.