Grant stretched his lines across our front and began approaching our works with his formidable parallels.  He would erect one line of breastworks, then under cover of night, another a hundred or two yards nearer us; thus by the third of June our lines were not one hundred yards apart in places.  Our pickets and those of the enemy were between the lines down in their pits, with some brush in front to shield them while on the look out.  The least shadow or moving of the branches would be sure to bring a rifle ball singing dangerously near one’s head—­if he escaped it at all.  The service in the pits here for two weeks was the most enormous and fatiguing of any in the service—­four men being in a pit for twenty-four hours in the broiling sun during the day, without any protection whatever, and the pit was so small that one could neither sit erect nor lie down.

Early on the morning of the 3rd of June, just three days after our fiasco at Cold Harbor, Grant moved his forces for the assault.  This was to be the culmination of his plan to break through Lee’s lines or to change his plans of campaign and settle down to a regular siege.  Away to our right the battle commenced.  Heavy shelling on both sides.  Then the musketry began to roll along in a regular wave, coming nearer and nearer as new columns moved to the assault.  Now it reaches our front, and the enemy moves steadily upon our works.  The cheering on our right told of the repulse by our forces, and had a discouraging effect upon the Federal troops moving against us.  As soon as their skirmish line made its appearance, followed by three lines of battle, our pickets in front of us were relieved, but many fell before gaining our breastworks, and those who were not killed had to lie during the day between the most murderous fire in the history of the war, and sad to say, few survived.  When near us the first line came with a rush at charge bayonets, and our officers had great difficulty in restraining the men from opening fire too soon.  But when close enough, the word “fire” was given, and the men behind the works raised deliberately, resting their guns upon the works, and fired volley after volley into the rushing but disorganized ranks of the enemy.  The first line reeled and attempted to fly the field, but were met by the next column, which halted the retreating troops with the bayonet, butts of guns, and officers’ sword, until the greater number were turned to the second assault.  All this while our sharpshooters and men behind our works were pouring a galling fire into the tangled mass of advancing and retreating troops.  The double column, like the first, came with a shout, a huzzah, and a charge.  But our men had by this time reloaded their pieces, and were only too eager awaiting the command “fire.”  But when it did come the result was telling—­men falling on top of men, rear rank pushing forward the first rank, only to be swept away like chaff.  Our batteries on the hills in rear and those mounted