So we waited until the sun set.

I took some of the finest photographs and probably the only ones ever taken of a battle at such close range.

Whenever the men fired, I would shoot off the camera and I expect I have some pretty great pictures.

Bass took some of me so if there is any question as to whether I was at the Coronation, there will be none as to whether I was at Velestinos.
Our house was hit with two shells and bullets fell like the gentle rain from heaven all over the courtyard, so we would have been no safer there than behind the trenches.

We sent off the first account of the battle written by anybody by midday, and stayed on until the next day at four when the place was evacuated in good order because, as usual, the Crown Prince was running away--from Pharsalia this time.
They say in Greece "Lewes, the peasant, won the race from Marathon, but Constantine the prince, won the race from Larissa." I was all right until I got to Volo when my right leg refused absolutely to do its act and I had to be carried on a donkey.