Summary

Francis J. Parker The Story of the Thirty-second Regiment…

Curiosity led many to gather on the hilltops and to look over what was to be the battlefield, to the crests of the low hills on the opposite bank of the stream, where we could see the spires of the little town of Sharpsburg sharply defined against the warm sky, and the smoke from the rebel camp-fires glowing in the light of the setting sun. A few well-directed shells from the enemy’s batteries however, dulled our curiosity in that direction, and we turned to our camps to see how an army looks upon the eve of a pitched battle.
Source: Gutenberg

Francis J. Parker The Story of the Thirty-second Regiment…

Stretching for some fifteen miles along the course of the river, the various corps were encamped in due form, the entire regularity of which could be seen from any neighboring eminence. From some such points one could take into view a landscape brilliant with the colors of autumn made yet brighter by the gleam of the orderly array of white tents, and could see the bounds of each regiment, brigade, or division, as if 108 marked upon a map. At night, before tattoo, the lines of lighted tents would show from a distance, like an army of glow-worms.
Source: Gutenberg

Francis J. Parker The Story of the Thirty-second Regiment…

We remember with pride the precision with which the brigade returned across the field, as coolly as if passing in review, rather than under the fire of the enemy, a movement which elicited the hearty cheers of the division. The most excited individual was a non-commissioned officer who, being lightly hit by a piece of shell as we entered our earthworks, maddened by the stinging pain, turned and shook his fist at the invisible foe, abusing him most lustily, amidst the laughter of his companions.
Source: Gutenberg

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