Crimea: The Story of Michael Pope, 110TH Regiment,

September 1854 It seemed like an age, lying there waiting for the order to continue our advance. All the while, from the heights beyond the river the Russian artillery fired upon us and from the front we heard the crackle of musket fire as our skirmishers pushed theirs back. Cannonballs passed over our heads with a sound not unlike tearing cloth, and struck the ground in front of us, throwing up earth. At first I was not afraid, for the men talked and laughed among them selves, even when they were showered with soil. Then we began to suffer our first losses…