A minute later there was a report which was heard for miles, and the earth trembled for miles around. A "Crater" one hundred and thirty feet long, ninety-seven feet in breadth, and thirty feet deep, was blown out. Of the brave artillery company, twenty-two officers and men were killed and wounded, most of them killed. Hundreds of tons of earth were thrown back on the rear line, in which my command was.
A WHOLE COMPANY BURIED.
Here was the greatest loss suffered by any command on either side in the war, myself, my only Lieutenant, W.J. Lake, and thirty-four [414] enlisted men were all buried, and of that little band thirty-one were killed. Lieutenant Lake and myself and three enlisted men were taken out of the ground two hours after the explosion by some brave New Yorkers. These men worked like beavers, a portion of the time under perpetual fire.
BURIED THIRTY FEET DEEP.
Colonel Dave Fleming and his Adjutant, Dick Quattlebaum, were also in the rear line, only a few feet to my left, and were buried thirty feet deep; their bodies are still there. I do not know how many of the Federal troops stormed the works, but I do know the Confederates captured from them nineteen flags. The attacking columns were composed of white men and negroes; sober men and men who were drunk; brave men and cowards.
One of the latter was an officer high in command. I have lost his name, if I ever knew it. He asked me how many lines of works we had between the "Crater" and Petersburg, when I replied, "Three." He asked me if they were all manned. I said, "Yes." He then said, "Don't you know that I know you are telling a d——d lie?" I said to him. "Don't you know that I am not going to give you information that will be of any service to you?" He then threatened to have me shot, and I believe but that for the interference of a Federal officer he would have done so.