CHAPTER V.
There were moments of waiting. The youth thought of the village streetat home before the arrival of the circus parade on a day in the spring.He remembered how he had stood, a small, thrillful boy, prepared tofollow the dingy lady upon the white horse, or the band in its fadedchariot. He saw the yellow road, the lines of expectant people, andthe sober houses. He particularly remembered an old fellow who used tosit upon a cracker box in front of the store and feign to despise suchexhibitions. A thousand details of color and form surged in his mind.The old fellow upon the cracker box appeared in middle prominence.
Some one cried, "Here they come!"
There was rustling and muttering among the men. They displayed afeverish desire to have every possible cartridge ready to their hands.The boxes were pulled around into various positions, and adjusted withgreat care. It was as if seven hundred new bonnets were being tried on.
The tall soldier, having prepared his rifle, produced a redhandkerchief of some kind. He was engaged in knitting it about histhroat with exquisite attention to its position, when the cry wasrepeated up and down the line in a muffled roar of sound.
"Here they come! Here they come!" Gun locks clicked.
Across the smoke-infested fields came a brown swarm of running men whowere giving shrill yells. They came on, stooping and swinging theirrifles at all angles. A flag, tilted forward, sped near the front.
As he caught sight of them the youth was momentarily startled by athought that perhaps his gun was not loaded. He stood trying to rallyhis faltering intellect so that he might recollect the moment when hehad loaded, but he could not.
A hatless general pulled his dripping horse to a stand near the colonelof the 304th. He shook his fist in the other's face. "You 've got tohold 'em back!" he shouted, savagely; "you 've got to hold 'em back!"
In his agitation the colonel began to stammer. "A-all r-right, General,all right, by Gawd! We--we'll do our--we-we'll d-d-do--do our best,General." The general made a passionate gesture and galloped away. Thecolonel, perchance to relieve his feelings, began to scold like a wetparrot. The youth, turning swiftly to make sure that the rear wasunmolested, saw the commander regarding his men in a highly regretfulmanner, as if he regretted above everything his association with them.
The man at the youth's elbow was mumbling, as if to himself: "Oh, we're in for it now! oh, we 're in for it now!"
The captain of the company had been pacing excitedly to and fro in therear. He coaxed in schoolmistress fashion, as to a congregation ofboys with primers. His talk was an endless repetition. "Reserve yourfire, boys--don't shoot till I tell you--save your fire--wait till theyget close up--don't be damned fools--"
Perspiration streamed down the youth's face, which was soiled like thatof a weeping urchin. He frequently, with a nervous movement, wiped hiseyes with his coat sleeve. His mouth was still a little ways open.
He got the one glance at the foe-swarming field in front of him, andinstantly ceased to debate the question of his piece being loaded.Before he was ready to begin--before he had announced to himself thathe was about to fight--he threw the obedient, well-balanced rifle intoposition and fired a first wild shot. Directly he was working at hisweapon like an automatic affair.
He suddenly lost concern for himself, and forgot to look at a menacingfate. He became not a man but a member. He felt that something ofwhich he was a part--a regiment, an army, a cause, or a country--was ina crisis. He was welded into a common personality which was dominatedby a single desire. For some moments he could not flee no more than alittle finger can commit a revolution from a hand.
If he had thought the regiment was about to be annihilated perhaps hecould have amputated himself from it. But its noise gave himassurance. The regiment was like a firework that, once ignited,proceeds superior to circumstances until its blazing vitality fades. Itwheezed and banged with a mighty power. He pictured the ground beforeit as strewn with the discomfited.
There was a consciousness always of the presence of his comrades abouthim. He felt the subtle battle brotherhood more potent even than thecause for which they were fighting. It was a mysterious fraternityborn of the smoke and danger of death.
He was at a task. He was like a carpenter who has made many boxes,making still another box, only there was furious haste in hismovements. He, in his thought, was careering off in other places, evenas the carpenter who as he works whistles and thinks of his friend orhis enemy, his home or a saloon. And these jolted dreams were neverperfect to him afterward, but remained a mass of blurred shapes.
Presently he began to feel the effects of the war atmosphere--ablistering sweat, a sensation that his eyeballs were about to cracklike hot stones. A burning roar filled his ears.
Following this came a red rage. He developed the acute exasperation ofa pestered animal, a well-meaning cow worried by dogs. He had a madfeeling against his rifle, which could only be used against one life ata time. He wished to rush forward and strangle with his fingers. Hecraved a power that would enable him to make a world-sweeping gestureand brush all back. His impotency appeared to him, and made his rageinto that of a driven beast.
Buried in the smoke of many rifles his anger was directed not so muchagainst the men whom he knew were rushing toward him as against theswirling battle phantoms which were choking him, stuffing their smokerobes down his parched throat. He fought frantically for respite forhis senses, for air, as a babe being smothered attacks the deadlyblankets.
There was a blare of heated rage mingled with a certain expression ofintentness on all faces. Many of the men were making low-toned noiseswith their mouths, and these subdued cheers, snarls, imprecations,prayers, made a wild, barbaric song that went as an undercurrent ofsound, strange and chantlike with the resounding chords of the warmarch. The man at the youth's elbow was babbling. In it there wassomething soft and tender like the monologue of a babe. The tallsoldier was swearing in a loud voice. From his lips came a blackprocession of curious oaths. Of a sudden another broke out in aquerulous way like a man who has mislaid his hat. "Well, why don'tthey support us? Why don't they send supports? Do they think--"
The youth in his battle sleep heard this as one who dozes hears.
There was a singular absence of heroic poses. The men bending andsurging in their haste and rage were in every impossible attitude. Thesteel ramrods clanked and clanged with incessant din as the men poundedthem furiously into the hot rifle barrels. The flaps of the cartridgeboxes were all unfastened, and bobbed idiotically with each movement.The rifles, once loaded, were jerked to the shoulder and fired withoutapparent aim into the smoke or at one of the blurred and shifting formswhich upon the field before the regiment had been growing larger andlarger like puppets under a magician's hand.
The officers, at their intervals, rearward, neglected to stand inpicturesque attitudes. They were bobbing to and fro roaring directionsand encouragements. The dimensions of their howls were extraordinary.They expended their lungs with prodigal wills. And often they nearlystood upon their heads in their anxiety to observe the enemy on theother side of the tumbling smoke.
The lieutenant of the youth's company had encountered a soldier who hadfled screaming at the first volley of his comrades. Behind the linesthese two were acting a little isolated scene. The man was blubberingand staring with sheeplike eyes at the lieutenant, who had seized himby the collar and was pommeling him. He drove him back into the rankswith many blows. The soldier went mechanically, dully, with hisanimal-like eyes upon the officer. Perhaps there was to him a divinityexpressed in the voice of the other--stern, hard, with no reflection offear in it. He tried to reload his gun, but his shaking handsprevented. The lieutenant was obliged to assist him.
The men dropped here and there like bundles. The captain of the youth'scompany had been killed in an early part of the action. His body laystretched out in the position of a tired man resting, but upon his facethere was an astonished and sorrowful loo
k, as if he thought somefriend had done him an ill turn. The babbling man was grazed by a shotthat made the blood stream widely down his face. He clapped both handsto his head. "Oh!" he said, and ran. Another grunted suddenly as ifhe had been struck by a club in the stomach. He sat down and gazedruefully. In his eyes there was mute, indefinite reproach. Farther upthe line a man, standing behind a tree, had had his knee jointsplintered by a ball. Immediately he had dropped his rifle and grippedthe tree with both arms. And there he remained, clinging desperatelyand crying for assistance that he might withdraw his hold upon the tree.
At last an exultant yell went along the quivering line. The firingdwindled from an uproar to a last vindictive popping. As the smokeslowly eddied away, the youth saw that the charge had been repulsed.The enemy were scattered into reluctant groups. He saw a man climb tothe top of the fence, straddle the rail, and fire a parting shot. Thewaves had receded, leaving bits of dark debris upon the ground.
Some in the regiment began to whoop frenziedly. Many were silent.Apparently they were trying to contemplate themselves.
After the fever had left his veins, the youth thought that at last hewas going to suffocate. He became aware of the foul atmosphere in whichhe had been struggling. He was grimy and dripping like a laborer in afoundry. He grasped his canteen and took a long swallow of the warmedwater.
A sentence with variations went up and down the line. "Well, we 'vehelt 'em back. We 've helt 'em back; derned if we haven't." The mensaid it blissfully, leering at each other with dirty smiles.
The youth turned to look behind him and off to the right and off to theleft. He experienced the joy of a man who at last finds leisure inwhich to look about him.
Under foot there were a few ghastly forms motionless. They lay twistedin fantastic contortions. Arms were bent and heads were turned inincredible ways. It seemed that the dead men must have fallen fromsome great height to get into such positions. They looked to be dumpedout upon the ground from the sky.
From a position in the rear of the grove a battery was throwing shellsover it. The flash of the guns startled the youth at first. Hethought they were aimed directly at him. Through the trees he watchedthe black figures of the gunners as they worked swiftly and intently.Their labor seemed a complicated thing. He wondered how they couldremember its formula in the midst of confusion.
The guns squatted in a row like savage chiefs. They argued with abruptviolence. It was a grim pow-wow. Their busy servants ran hither andthither.
A small procession of wounded men were going drearily toward the rear.It was a flow of blood from the torn body of the brigade.
To the right and to the left were the dark lines of other troops. Farin front he thought he could see lighter masses protruding in pointsfrom the forest. They were suggestive of unnumbered thousands.
Once he saw a tiny battery go dashing along the line of the horizon.The tiny riders were beating the tiny horses.
From a sloping hill came the sound of cheerings and clashes. Smokewelled slowly through the leaves.
Batteries were speaking with thunderous oratorical effort. Here andthere were flags, the red in the stripes dominating. They splashedbits of warm color upon the dark lines of troops.
The youth felt the old thrill at the sight of the emblem. They werelike beautiful birds strangely undaunted in a storm.
As he listened to the din from the hillside, to a deep pulsatingthunder that came from afar to the left, and to the lesser clamorswhich came from many directions, it occurred to him that they werefighting, too, over there, and over there, and over there. Heretoforehe had supposed that all the battle was directly under his nose.
As he gazed around him the youth felt a flash of astonishment at theblue, pure sky and the sun gleamings on the trees and fields. It wassurprising that Nature had gone tranquilly on with her golden processin the midst of so much devilment.