On the 4th of July we took part in a reconnaissance over the rexstrune field amidst the scene of unsupportable horror. Pushing as far out as Willoughby's run finding no enemy, we returned to our ground. But there was neither removal nor rest for us till we had gone up the round top slopes to bid farewell to our dead. We buried them there in a grave a last too wide on the sunny side of a great rock. Eternal witnesses of their worth. The rock and the sun. Rude headboards made of ammunition boxes rudely carved under tear dimmed eyes marked and named each grave and told each home. I trust in God where they are