by the time the enemy had filled the breastworks as full of men as they could stand together, and as soon as the Georgians got near enough the enemy opened fire on them, and they fell like autumn leaves. They reformed, and tried it a second time, but with no better results. General Mahone then called. on the Alabama Brigade; the line was formed the command given, and when they reached the point where the Georgians suffered so severely, they too met with a heavy loss, but, unlike the Georgians, as soon as they received the shock every man that was left standing started in double quick, and before the enemy could reload, the Alabamians were on them, and as was the case on our side of the Crater, a hand to hand fight took place, and in a few minutes the gallant Alabamians had driven out and killed those who couldn't get out, and were masters of the situation. The loss of life on both sides was heavy, and I have often said, if a correct history of the late war is ever written, the fight at the Crater will be second to none, but the battle of Gettysburg, during the war.
And now, as you have requested me to do so, I will give you a short history of the part I took in the fight at the Crater. When we made the charge and reached the breastworks, I was among the first to jump in the ditch, where the Yanks were as thick as they could stand. First sergeant of Company D jumped in about the same time I did, and was killed instantly. Where I was there was a small bomb-proof, and two Yanks squatting down near its mouth to keep out of danger; they were white men with muskets in their hands, with fixed bayonets. My feet had not more than touched the ground when they rose up and stood before me. Just then the man that killed the sergeant stooped down and picked up a musket, evidently with the intention of killing me. I took in the situation at once, took hold of the two men in front of me, and kept them so close together it was impossible for him to kill me without endangering the lives of his own men. Just at that moment, our men were jumping in the ditch like frogs; one of them jumped in just behind me, and I sung out to him at the top of my voice to kill the man in front of me. The man, Peter Gibbs, by name, of