He yelled to the first Rebel he met: "Py Gott, I've no patience mit you,' and knocked him sprawling.
He caught hold of the commander of the Rebel Brigade, and snatched him back over the works by main strength.

Wonderful to say, he escaped unhurt, but the boys will probably not soon let him hear the last of, "Py Gott, I've no patience mit you.' "The Tenth Kentucky, by the queerest luck in the world, was matched against the Rebel Ninth Kentucky.

The commanders of the two regiments were brothers-in-law, and the men relatives, friends, acquaintances and schoolmates.

They hated each other accordingly, and the fight between them was more bitter, if possible, than anywhere else on the line.
The Thirty-Eighth Ohio and Seventy-fourth Indiana put in some work that was just magnificent.

We hadn't time to look at it then, but the dead and wounded piled up after the fight told the story.
"We gradually forced our way over the works, but the Rebels were game to the last, and we had to make them surrender almost one at a time.
The artillerymen tried to fire on us when we were so close we could lay our hands on the guns.
"Finally nearly all in the works surrendered, and were disarmed and marched back.