Chapter 16

A sputtering of musketry was always to be heard. Later, the cannon had entered the dispute. In the fog-filled air their voices made a thudding sound. The reverberations were continual. This part of the world led a strange, battleful existence.

The crackle of musket fire could always be heard. Later, the cannons joined the fight. Their voices thudded through the fog-filled air. The echoes never stopped. This part of the world lived a strange life filled with battle.

The youth’s regiment was marched to relieve a command that had lain long in some damp trenches. The men took positions behind a curving line of rifle pits that had been turned up, like a large furrow, along the line of woods. Before them was a level stretch, peopled with short, deformed stumps. From the woods beyond came the dull popping of the skirmishers and pickets, firing in the fog. From the right came the noise of a terrific fracas.

The young soldier’s regiment marched in to relieve a unit that had spent a long time in damp trenches. The men took positions behind a curved line of rifle pits dug along the edge of the woods. The pits looked like a large furrow. Before them stretched a level field dotted with short, misshapen stumps. From the woods beyond came the dull popping of skirmishers and sentries firing in the fog. From the right came the noise of a fierce fight.

The men cuddled behind the small embankment and sat in easy attitudes awaiting their turn. Many had their backs to the firing. The youth’s friend lay down, buried his face in his arms, and almost instantly, it seemed, he was in a deep sleep.

The men huddled behind the small embankment and sat comfortably, waiting for their turn. Many had their backs to the gunfire. The youth’s friend lay down and buried his face in his arms. Almost instantly, it seemed, he was fast asleep.

The youth leaned his breast against the brown dirt and peered over at the woods and up and down the line. Curtains of trees interfered with his ways of vision. He could see the low line of trenches but for a short distance. A few idle flags were perched on the dirt hills. Behind them were rows of dark bodies with a few heads sticking curiously over the top.

The young man pressed his chest against the brown dirt and looked toward the woods and along the line. Walls of trees blocked his view. He could see the low line of trenches for only a short distance. A few still flags stood on the mounds of dirt. Behind them were rows of dark bodies, with a few heads peering curiously over the top.

Always the noise of skirmishers came from the woods on the front and left, and the din on the right had grown to frightful proportions. The guns were roaring without an instant’s pause for breath. It seemed that the cannon had come from all parts and were engaged in a stupendous wrangle. It became impossible to make a sentence heard.

The sound of skirmishers came constantly from the woods ahead and to the left. On the right, the noise had grown terrifyingly loud. The guns roared without a moment’s pause. It seemed that cannons had come from everywhere and were engaged in a monstrous argument. The noise made it impossible to hear a sentence.

The youth wished to launch a joke—a quotation from newspapers. He desired to say, “All quiet on the Rappahannock,” but the guns refused to permit even a comment upon their uproar. He never successfully concluded the sentence. But at last the guns stopped, and among the men in the rifle pits rumors again flew, like birds, but they were now for the most part black creatures who flapped their wings drearily near to the ground and refused to rise on any wings of hope. The men’s faces grew doleful from the interpreting of omens. Tales of hesitation and uncertainty on the part of those high in place and responsibility came to their ears. Stories of disaster were borne into their minds with many proofs. This din of musketry on the right, growing like a released genie of sound, expressed and emphasized the army’s plight.

The young man wanted to make a joke by quoting the newspapers. He wanted to say, “All quiet on the Rappahannock,” but the guns were too loud for him to comment on their uproar. He never managed to finish the sentence. At last the guns stopped, and rumors flew again among the men in the rifle pits, like birds. But now most were black creatures, flapping drearily near the ground and refusing to rise on wings of hope. The men’s faces grew gloomy as they interpreted the signs. They heard stories that those in positions of power and responsibility were hesitating and uncertain. Stories of disaster reached them, along with plenty of evidence. The din of musket fire on the right grew like a genie of sound set free. It expressed and emphasized the army’s desperate situation.

The men were disheartened and began to mutter. They made gestures expressive of the sentence: “Ah, what more can we do?” And it could always be seen that they were bewildered by the alleged news and could not fully comprehend a defeat.

The men lost heart and began to mutter. Their gestures seemed to say, “Ah, what more can we do?” It was always clear that the reported news confused them. They could not fully understand a defeat.

Before the gray mists had been totally obliterated by the sun rays, the regiment was marching in a spread column that was retiring carefully through the woods. The disordered, hurrying lines of the enemy could sometimes be seen down through the groves and little fields. They were yelling, shrill and exultant.

Before the sun had completely burned away the gray mist, the regiment was marching in a spread-out column. It was retreating carefully through the woods. The enemy’s disordered, hurried lines could sometimes be seen through the groves and small fields. They were shouting shrilly and triumphantly.

At this sight the youth forgot many personal matters and became greatly enraged. He exploded in loud sentences. “B’jiminey, we’re generaled by a lot ’a lunkheads.”

At this sight, the young man forgot many of his personal concerns and became furious. He burst out shouting. “By God, we’re being led by a bunch of idiots.”

“More than one feller has said that t’-day,” observed a man.

“More than one fellow has said that today,” a man said.

His friend, recently aroused, was still very drowsy. He looked behind him until his mind took in the meaning of the movement. Then he sighed. “Oh, well, I s’pose we got licked,” he remarked sadly.

His friend had just woken up and was still very sleepy. He looked behind him until he understood what the movement meant. Then he sighed. “Oh, well, I suppose we got beaten,” he said sadly.

The youth had a thought that it would not be handsome for him to freely condemn other men. He made an attempt to restrain himself, but the words upon his tongue were too bitter. He presently began a long and intricate denunciation of the commander of the forces.

The young man thought it would be wrong to condemn other men so freely. He tried to hold back, but his words were too bitter. Soon he launched into a long, complicated denunciation of the commander of the forces.

“Mebbe, it wa’n’t all his fault—not all together. He did th’ best he knowed. It’s our luck t’ git licked often,” said his friend in a weary tone. He was trudging along with stooped shoulders and shifting eyes like a man who has been caned and kicked.

“Maybe it wasn’t all his fault, not entirely. He did the best he knew how. It’s our luck to get beaten often,” said his friend wearily. He trudged along with stooped shoulders and shifting eyes, like a man who had been beaten with a cane and kicked.

“Well, don’t we fight like the devil? Don’t we do all that men can?” demanded the youth loudly.

“Well, don’t we fight like hell? Don’t we do all that men can do?” the young man demanded loudly.

He was secretly dumfounded at this sentiment when it came from his lips. For a moment his face lost its valor and he looked guiltily about him. But no one questioned his right to deal in such words, and presently he recovered his air of courage. He went on to repeat a statement he had heard going from group to group at the camp that morning. “The brigadier said he never saw a new reg’ment fight the way we fought yestirday, didn’t he? And we didn’t do better than many another reg’ment, did we? Well, then, you can’t say it’s th’ army’s fault, can you?”

He was secretly stunned to hear himself say this. For a moment, the courage left his face, and he looked around guiltily. But no one questioned his right to speak that way, and soon he looked brave again. He repeated something he had heard passing from group to group in camp that morning. “The brigadier said he’d never seen a new regiment fight the way we fought yesterday, didn’t he? And we didn’t do better than many another regiment, did we? Well, then, you can’t say it’s the army’s fault, can you?”

In his reply, the friend’s voice was stern. “’A course not,” he said. “No man dare say we don’t fight like th’ devil. No man will ever dare say it. Th’ boys fight like hell-roosters. But still—still, we don’t have no luck.”

The friend answered sternly. “Of course not,” he said. “No man dares say we don’t fight like the devil. No man will ever dare say that. The boys fight like fighting roosters. But still, still, we have no luck.”

“Well, then, if we fight like the devil an’ don’t ever whip, it must be the general’s fault,” said the youth grandly and decisively. “And I don’t see any sense in fighting and fighting and fighting, yet always losing through some derned old lunkhead of a general.”

“Well, then, if we fight like the devil and never win, it must be the general’s fault,” the youth said grandly and decisively. “And I don’t see any sense in fighting and fighting and fighting, only to keep losing because of some darned old fool of a general.”

A sarcastic man who was tramping at the youth’s side, then spoke lazily. “Mebbe yeh think yeh fit th’ hull battle yestirday, Fleming,” he remarked.

A sarcastic man walking beside the young man spoke lazily. “Maybe you think you fought the whole battle yesterday, Fleming,” he remarked.

The speech pierced the youth. Inwardly he was reduced to an abject pulp by these chance words. His legs quaked privately. He cast a frightened glance at the sarcastic man.

The words pierced the young man. Inside, the chance remark reduced him to a helpless mess. His legs trembled, though he tried to hide it. He glanced fearfully at the sarcastic man.

“Why, no,” he hastened to say in a conciliating voice “I don’t think I fought the whole battle yesterday.”

“Why, no,” he quickly said in a soothing voice, “I don’t think I fought the whole battle yesterday.”

But the other seemed innocent of any deeper meaning. Apparently, he had no information. It was merely his habit. “Oh!” he replied in the same tone of calm derision.

But the other man seemed unaware of any deeper meaning. Apparently, he had no information. It was just his habit. “Oh!” he replied in the same calm, mocking tone.

The youth, nevertheless, felt a threat. His mind shrank from going near to the danger, and thereafter he was silent. The significance of the sarcastic man’s words took from him all loud moods that would make him appear prominent. He became suddenly a modest person.

The young man nevertheless felt threatened. His mind recoiled from going near the danger, and he fell silent. The meaning of the sarcastic man’s words took away all his urge to be loud and draw attention to himself. He suddenly became modest.

There was low-toned talk among the troops. The officers were impatient and snappy, their countenances clouded with the tales of misfortune. The troops, sifting through the forest, were sullen. In the youth’s company once a man’s laugh rang out. A dozen soldiers turned their faces quickly toward him and frowned with vague displeasure.

The troops talked quietly. The officers were impatient and snappish, their faces clouded by stories of misfortune. The troops moved through the forest in a sullen mood. In the youth’s company, a man laughed out loud. A dozen soldiers quickly turned toward him and frowned with a vague displeasure.

The noise of firing dogged their footsteps. Sometimes, it seemed to be driven a little way, but it always returned again with increased insolence. The men muttered and cursed, throwing black looks in its direction.

The sound of gunfire followed them as they walked. Sometimes, it seemed to be pushed back a little, but it always returned, more defiant than before. The men muttered and cursed, casting angry looks toward the gunfire.

In a clear space the troops were at last halted. Regiments and brigades, broken and detached through their encounters with thickets, grew together again and lines were faced toward the pursuing bark of the enemy’s infantry.

At last, the troops stopped in a clearing. Regiments and brigades had been scattered and separated as they passed through thickets. Now they came together again and formed lines facing the approaching bark of the enemy’s infantry.

This noise, following like the yelpings of eager, metallic hounds, increased to a loud and joyous burst, and then, as the sun went serenely up the sky, throwing illuminating rays into the gloomy thickets, it broke forth into prolonged pealings. The woods began to crackle as if afire.

The noise followed like the yelps of eager, metallic hounds. It grew into a loud, joyful burst. Then, as the sun rose calmly, casting light into the dark thickets, the noise broke into long, ringing peals. The woods began to crackle as if they were on fire.

“Whoop-a-dadee,” said a man, “here we are! Everybody fightin’. Blood an’ destruction.”

“Whoop-a-dadee,” said a man, “here we are! Everybody’s fighting. Blood and destruction.”

“I was willin’ t’ bet they’d attack as soon as th’ sun got fairly up,” savagely asserted the lieutenant who commanded the youth’s company. He jerked without mercy at his little mustache. He strode to and fro with dark dignity in the rear of his men, who were lying down behind whatever protection they had collected.

“I was willing to bet they’d attack as soon as the sun was fully up,” said the youth’s company lieutenant fiercely. He tugged mercilessly at his little mustache. He paced behind his men with grim dignity. They lay behind whatever cover they had gathered.

A battery had trundled into position in the rear and was thoughtfully shelling the distance. The regiment, unmolested as yet, awaited the moment when the gray shadows of the woods before them should be slashed by the lines of flame. There was much growling and swearing.

A battery of guns had rolled into position behind the regiment and was carefully shelling the distance. The regiment had not yet come under attack. The soldiers waited for lines of flame to slash through the gray shadows of the woods ahead. There was much grumbling and swearing.

“Good Gawd,” the youth grumbled, “we’re always being chased around like rats! It makes me sick. Nobody seems to know where we go or why we go. We just get fired around from pillar to post and get licked here and get licked there, and nobody knows what it’s done for. It makes a man feel like a damn’ kitten in a bag. Now, I’d like to know what the eternal thunders we was marched into these woods for anyhow, unless it was to give the rebs a regular pot shot at us. We came in here and got our legs all tangled up in these cussed briers, and then we begin to fight and the rebs had an easy time of it. Don’t tell me it’s just luck! I know better. It’s this derned old—”

“Good God,” the youth grumbled, “we’re always being chased around like rats! It makes me sick. Nobody seems to know where we’re going or why. We just get pushed from one place to another and get beaten here and beaten there. Nobody knows what it’s all for. It makes a man feel like a damn kitten in a bag. Now, I’d like to know what the hell we were marched into these woods for. Unless it was to give the rebs an easy shot at us. We came in here and got our legs all tangled up in these damn briars. Then we started fighting, and the rebs had an easy time of it. Don’t tell me it’s just luck! I know better. It’s this damned old...”

The friend seemed jaded, but he interrupted his comrade with a voice of calm confidence. “It’ll turn out all right in th’ end,” he said.

The friend seemed exhausted, but he interrupted his comrade in a calm, confident voice. “It’ll turn out all right in the end,” he said.

“Oh, the devil it will! You always talk like a dog-hanged parson. Don’t tell me! I know—”

“Oh, the hell it will! You always talk like a damned preacher. Don’t tell me! I know...”

At this time there was an interposition by the savage-minded lieutenant, who was obliged to vent some of his inward dissatisfaction upon his men. “You boys shut right up! There no need ’a your wastin’ your breath in long-winded arguments about this an’ that an’ th’ other. You’ve been jawin’ like a lot ’a old hens. All you’ve got t’ do is to fight, an’ you’ll get plenty ’a that t’ do in about ten minutes. Less talkin’ an’ more fightin’ is what’s best for you boys. I never saw sech gabbling jackasses.”

At that moment, the fierce-minded lieutenant stepped in. He had to vent some of his frustration on his men. “You boys shut up! There’s no need to waste your breath on long arguments about this and that. You’ve been talking like a bunch of old hens. All you have to do is fight, and you’ll have plenty of fighting to do in about ten minutes. Less talking and more fighting is what’s best for you boys. I’ve never seen such chattering jackasses.”

He paused, ready to pounce upon any man who might have the temerity to reply. No words being said, he resumed his dignified pacing.

He paused, ready to pounce on any man who dared to answer. When no one spoke, he resumed his dignified pacing.

“There’s too much chin music an’ too little fightin’ in this war, anyhow,” he said to them, turning his head for a final remark.

“There’s too much talk and too little fighting in this war, anyway,” he said to them, turning his head for one last remark.

The day had grown more white, until the sun shed his full radiance upon the thronged forest. A sort of a gust of battle came sweeping toward that part of the line where lay the youth’s regiment. The front shifted a trifle to meet it squarely. There was a wait. In this part of the field there passed slowly the intense moments that precede the tempest.

The day grew brighter, until the sun shone fully on the crowded forest. A gust of battle seemed to sweep toward the part of the line where the young soldier’s regiment lay. The front line shifted slightly to meet it head-on. Then came a wait. In this part of the field, the tense moments before the storm passed slowly.

A single rifle flashed in a thicket before the regiment. In an instant it was joined by many others. There was a mighty song of clashes and crashes that went sweeping through the woods. The guns in the rear, aroused and enraged by shells that had been thrown burr-like at them, suddenly involved themselves in a hideous altercation with another band of guns. The battle roar settled to a rolling thunder, which was a single, long explosion.

A single rifle flashed in the brush ahead of the regiment. In an instant, many others joined it. A mighty song of clashes and crashes swept through the woods. Shells had been thrown at the guns in the rear like burrs, rousing and enraging them. Suddenly, those guns were locked in a hideous fight with another group of guns. The roar of battle settled into rolling thunder, one long explosion.

In the regiment there was a peculiar kind of hesitation denoted in the attitudes of the men. They were worn, exhausted, having slept but little and labored much. They rolled their eyes toward the advancing battle as they stood awaiting the shock. Some shrank and flinched. They stood as men tied to stakes.

The men in the regiment showed a strange hesitation in the way they stood. They were worn out, having slept little and worked hard. They glanced toward the advancing battle as they waited for the clash. Some shrank back and flinched. They stood like men tied to stakes.