On the 30th of June, our regiment was sent to the skirmish line; while marching up a straight road up the mountain, the rebel sharp shooters fired at us at long range. One shot struck B. C. Burdick of
Co. "B" in the breast, went through him, crashed through the vertebra in his back entering his knapsack, puncturing twenty-three thicknesses of his folded blanket. He was marching just ahead of me and fell against me. I asked him if he was hurt; he replied "not much", and immediately expired. I left him with fifer Thayer and went on with the company. We marched nearly a half a mile up the mountain before we left the road and deployed; so the shot must have been at range of nearly a mile. The bullet that killed him was about as large as the little finger and as long; it was sent to his mother.