Notes

June 1815. It was about a quarter past eleven when the great battery of guns across the valley belched smoke. A second later the sound of their discharge reached me like a roll of thunder. There was a wooshing, ripping noise as the balls come skipping over the ridge. The infantry had already been told to lie down and we did likewise, so most of the enemy fire passed overhead. However, sometimes a ball smashed into the ranks...smashing bodies to pulp. It was the horrible screams that nearly broke my nerve. I wanted to run and hide but suddenly my legs were like jelly...