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Civil War
Twenty Fourth Regiment Infantry
'Boom!' from the oaken recesses breaks a hailstorm of lead, and Reynolds, with the word of command upon his tongue, falls forward bloodily. The light of pride in his eye grows dull as blindness; the bronze flush on his face is veined with blue; two men bear away a dripping stretcher to the edge of the town; the architect of the battle has fallen dead across its portal. Grief, terror have no space to live in. Across the brook and up the ridge, with a yell that is shot through and through with their own volleys,
Michigan
Page 60
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