Charles H. Olmstead,
Reminiscences of Service with the First Volunteer Regiment of Georgia…
“ The lurid flushes of the guns, their unceasing roar, the shells from every description of tremendous artillery, that could be tracked through the air by flaming fuses; the mortar shell rising in stately curve and steady sweep, the Parrott shell darting like lightning in its mission of death, the missiles from the fleet booming along the water and bursting in Wagner with cruel accuracy, the glare of calcium lights, bringing out every detail of our works as in the noonday—all these filled the souls of Confederate spectators with awe, and found their painful antithesis in—the silence of Wagner. ”
