Chapter 20

When the two youths turned with the flag they saw that much of the regiment had crumbled away, and the dejected remnant was coming slowly back. The men, having hurled themselves in projectile fashion, had presently expended their forces. They slowly retreated, with their faces still toward the spluttering woods, and their hot rifles still replying to the din. Several officers were giving orders, their voices keyed to screams.

When the two young men turned with the flag, they saw that much of the regiment had fallen apart. The discouraged survivors were slowly coming back. The men had hurled themselves forward like projectiles and soon used up their strength. They retreated slowly, still facing the woods where gunfire sputtered. Their hot rifles still answered the din. Several officers gave orders, their voices rising to screams.

“Where in hell yeh goin’?” the lieutenant was asking in a sarcastic howl. And a red-bearded officer, whose voice of triple brass could plainly be heard, was commanding: “Shoot into ’em! Shoot into ’em, Gawd damn their souls!” There was a melée of screeches, in which the men were ordered to do conflicting and impossible things.

“Where the hell are you going?” the lieutenant asked in a sarcastic howl. And a red-bearded officer shouted orders in a voice that rang out like brass: “Shoot at them! Shoot at them, God damn their souls!” There was a chaos of screeching voices, ordering the men to do conflicting and impossible things.

The youth and his friend had a small scuffle over the flag. “Give it t’ me!” “No, let me keep it!” Each felt satisfied with the other’s possession of it, but each felt bound to declare, by an offer to carry the emblem, his willingness to further risk himself. The youth roughly pushed his friend away.

The young man and his friend scuffled briefly over the flag. “Give it to me!” “No, let me keep it!” Each was content to let the other carry the flag. But each felt obliged to offer to carry it, to show his willingness to risk his life again. The young man roughly pushed his friend away.

The regiment fell back to the stolid trees. There it halted for a moment to blaze at some dark forms that had begun to steal upon its track. Presently it resumed its march again, curving among the tree trunks. By the time the depleted regiment had again reached the first open space they were receiving a fast and merciless fire. There seemed to be mobs all about them.

The regiment fell back to the unmoving trees. There, it stopped for a moment to fire at some dark figures creeping along its trail. Soon the regiment resumed its march, winding among the tree trunks. By the time the diminished regiment reached the first clearing again, it was under rapid, merciless fire. There seemed to be crowds of enemies all around them.

The greater part of the men, discouraged, their spirits worn by the turmoil, acted as if stunned. They accepted the pelting of the bullets with bowed and weary heads. It was of no purpose to strive against walls. It was of no use to batter themselves against granite. And from this consciousness that they had attempted to conquer an unconquerable thing there seemed to arise a feeling that they had been betrayed. They glowered with bent brows, but dangerously, upon some of the officers, more particularly upon the red-bearded one with the voice of triple brass.

Most of the men were discouraged, their spirits worn down by the turmoil. They acted as if stunned. They bowed their weary heads and accepted the pounding of the bullets. There was no point in struggling against walls. There was no use in hurling themselves against granite. Realizing that they had tried to conquer something unconquerable, they seemed to feel betrayed. They frowned and glared dangerously at some of the officers, especially the red-bearded one whose voice was like triple brass.

However, the rear of the regiment was fringed with men, who continued to shoot irritably at the advancing foes. They seemed resolved to make every trouble. The youthful lieutenant was perhaps the last man in the disordered mass. His forgotten back was toward the enemy. He had been shot in the arm. It hung straight and rigid. Occasionally he would cease to remember it, and be about to emphasize an oath with a sweeping gesture. The multiplied pain caused him to swear with incredible power.

However, a fringe of men at the rear of the regiment kept shooting angrily at the advancing enemy. They seemed determined to cause as much trouble as possible. The young lieutenant was perhaps the last man in the disordered crowd. His back, which he had forgotten about, was turned toward the enemy. He had been shot in the arm. It hung straight and stiff. Now and then, he would forget about his arm and start to punctuate a curse with a sweeping gesture. The increased pain made him swear with incredible force.

The youth went along with slipping uncertain feet. He kept watchful eyes rearward. A scowl of mortification and rage was upon his face. He had thought of a fine revenge upon the officer who had referred to him and his fellows as mule drivers. But he saw that it could not come to pass. His dreams had collapsed when the mule drivers, dwindling rapidly, had wavered and hesitated on the little clearing, and then had recoiled. And now the retreat of the mule drivers was a march of shame to him.

The young man walked on, his feet slipping and unsteady. He kept looking back, his face twisted in shame and anger. He had imagined a splendid revenge on the officer who had called him and his comrades mule drivers. But he saw that his revenge would never happen. His dreams had collapsed when the mule drivers, their numbers shrinking rapidly, wavered and hesitated in the small clearing, then fell back. Now their retreat was a march of shame to him.

A dagger-pointed gaze from without his blackened face was held toward the enemy, but his greater hatred was riveted upon the man, who, not knowing him, had called him a mule driver.

He fixed a dagger-sharp gaze on the enemy from his blackened face. But he hated the man who had called him a mule driver even more. That man had not known him.

When he knew that he and his comrades had failed to do anything in successful ways that might bring the little pangs of a kind of remorse upon the officer, the youth allowed the rage of the baffled to possess him. This cold officer upon a monument, who dropped epithets unconcernedly down, would be finer as a dead man, he thought. So grievous did he think it that he could never possess the secret right to taunt truly in answer.

When the youth realized that he and his comrades had done nothing successful enough to make the officer feel even a little remorse, he was overcome by the rage of defeat. He thought the cold officer, perched on a monument and casually hurling insults down at them, would be better off dead. It grieved him deeply that he could never have the private satisfaction of taunting the officer back with the truth.

He had pictured red letters of curious revenge. “We are mule drivers, are we?” And now he was compelled to throw them away.

He had imagined strange words of revenge written in red letters. “We are mule drivers, are we?” But now he had to give them up.

He presently wrapped his heart in the cloak of his pride and kept the flag erect. He harangued his fellows, pushing against their chests with his free hand. To those he knew well he made frantic appeals, beseeching them by name. Between him and the lieutenant, scolding and near to losing his mind with rage, there was felt a subtle fellowship and equality. They supported each other in all manner of hoarse, howling protests.

Soon he wrapped his heart in the cloak of his pride and held the flag upright. He urged his fellow soldiers on, pushing against their chests with his free hand. He pleaded frantically with those he knew well, calling them by name. The lieutenant was scolding the men, nearly out of his mind with rage. There was a subtle sense of fellowship and equality between the lieutenant and the flag bearer. They supported each other with all kinds of hoarse, howling protests.

But the regiment was a machine run down. The two men babbled at a forceless thing. The soldiers who had heart to go slowly were continually shaken in their resolves by a knowledge that comrades were slipping with speed back to the lines. It was difficult to think of reputation when others were thinking of skins. Wounded men were left crying on this black journey.

But the regiment was a machine that had run down. The two men babbled at a force that had lost its strength. The soldiers who had the courage to move slowly kept losing their resolve. They knew their comrades were quickly slipping back to the lines. It was hard to think about their reputations when others were thinking about saving their skins. Wounded men were left crying along this dark journey.

The smoke fringes and flames blustered always. The youth, peering once through a sudden rift in a cloud, saw a brown mass of troops, interwoven and magnified until they appeared to be thousands. A fierce-hued flag flashed before his vision.

The edges of the smoke and the flames kept raging. The young man once peered through a sudden gap in a cloud of smoke. He saw a brown mass of troops, mingled together and enlarged until they looked like thousands. A fiercely colored flag flashed before his eyes.

Immediately, as if the uplifting of the smoke had been prearranged, the discovered troops burst into a rasping yell, and a hundred flames jetted toward the retreating band. A rolling gray cloud again interposed as the regiment doggedly replied. The youth had to depend again upon his misused ears, which were trembling and buzzing from the melée of musketry and yells.

Immediately, as if the smoke had been arranged to lift at that moment, the revealed troops burst into a harsh yell. A hundred flashes of gunfire shot toward the retreating group. A rolling gray cloud again came between them as the regiment stubbornly fired back. The youth again had to rely on his battered ears. They were trembling and buzzing from the chaos of musket fire and yells.

The way seemed eternal. In the clouded haze men became panic-stricken with the thought that the regiment had lost its path, and was proceeding in a perilous direction. Once the men who headed the wild procession turned and came pushing back against their comrades, screaming that they were being fired upon from points which they had considered to be toward their own lines. At this cry a hysterical fear and dismay beset the troops. A soldier, who heretofore had been ambitious to make the regiment into a wise little band that would proceed calmly amid the huge-appearing difficulties, suddenly sank down and buried his face in his arms with an air of bowing to a doom. From another a shrill lamentation rang out filled with profane allusions to a general. Men ran hither and thither, seeking with their eyes roads of escape. With serene regularity, as if controlled by a schedule, bullets buffed into men.

The journey seemed endless. In the cloudy haze, the men panicked at the thought that the regiment had lost its way and was heading toward danger. At one point, the men at the head of the wild procession turned and pushed back against their comrades. They screamed that they were being fired on from places they had thought were toward their own lines. At this cry, hysterical fear and dismay swept through the troops. One soldier had hoped to make the regiment into a wise little band, moving calmly through the enormous difficulties. Now he suddenly sank down and buried his face in his arms, as if bowing to his fate. Another let out a shrill cry of despair, cursing a general. Men ran in every direction, looking for escape routes. With calm regularity, as if on a schedule, bullets thudded into men.

The youth walked stolidly into the midst of the mob, and with his flag in his hands took a stand as if he expected an attempt to push him to the ground. He unconsciously assumed the attitude of the color bearer in the fight of the preceding day. He passed over his brow a hand that trembled. His breath did not come freely. He was choking during this small wait for the crisis.

The young man walked calmly into the middle of the crowd. Holding his flag, he planted himself as if he expected someone to try to push him down. Without realizing it, he took the same stance as the flag bearer in the previous day's battle. He wiped his forehead with a trembling hand. He struggled to breathe. As he waited briefly for the crisis, he felt as if he were choking.

His friend came to him. “Well, Henry, I guess this is good-by—John.”

His friend came to him. “Well, Henry, I guess this is goodbye. John.”

“Oh, shut up, you damned fool!” replied the youth, and he would not look at the other.

“Oh, shut up, you damned fool!” the young man replied, refusing to look at the other man.

The officers labored like politicians to beat the mass into a proper circle to face the menaces. The ground was uneven and torn. The men curled into depressions and fitted themselves snugly behind whatever would frustrate a bullet. The youth noted with vague surprise that the lieutenant was standing mutely with his legs far apart and his sword held in the manner of a cane. The youth wondered what had happened to his vocal organs that he no more cursed.

The officers worked like politicians to shape the mass of men into a proper circle to face the threats. The ground was uneven and torn up. The men curled up in hollows and tucked themselves behind anything that might stop a bullet. The young soldier noticed with mild surprise that the lieutenant stood silently, his legs spread wide, holding his sword like a cane. The young soldier wondered what had happened to the lieutenant’s voice, since he no longer cursed.

There was something curious in this little intent pause of the lieutenant. He was like a babe which, having wept its fill, raises its eyes and fixes upon a distant toy. He was engrossed in this contemplation, and the soft under lip quivered from self-whispered words.

There was something curious about the lieutenant’s brief, intent pause. He was like a baby who, having cried enough, looks up and fixes its eyes on a distant toy. He was absorbed in what he saw. His soft lower lip trembled as he whispered words to himself.

Some lazy and ignorant smoke curled slowly. The men, hiding from the bullets, waited anxiously for it to lift and disclose the plight of the regiment.

Some lazy, oblivious smoke curled slowly. The men hid from the bullets, waiting anxiously for the smoke to clear and reveal the regiment's situation.

The silent ranks were suddenly thrilled by the eager voice of the youthful lieutenant bawling out: “Here they come! Right onto us, b’Gawd!” His further words were lost in a roar of wicked thunder from the men’s rifles.

The silent ranks suddenly stirred as the young lieutenant shouted eagerly: “Here they come! Right at us, by God!” The roar of the men’s rifles drowned out the rest of his words like wicked thunder.

The youth’s eyes had instantly turned in the direction indicated by the awakened and agitated lieutenant, and he had seen the haze of treachery disclosing a body of soldiers of the enemy. They were so near that he could see their features. There was a recognition as he looked at the types of faces. Also he perceived with dim amazement that their uniforms were rather gay in effect, being light gray, accented with a brilliant-hued facing. Too, the clothes seemed new.

The young man’s eyes immediately turned in the direction the now alert and agitated lieutenant had indicated. Through the deceptive haze, he saw a group of enemy soldiers. They were so close that he could see their features. He recognized the types of faces he saw. He also noticed with vague amazement that their uniforms looked rather bright. They were light gray with brilliantly colored trim. The clothes also seemed new.

These troops had apparently been going forward with caution, their rifles held in readiness, when the youthful lieutenant had discovered them and their movement had been interrupted by the volley from the blue regiment. From the moment’s glimpse, it was derived that they had been unaware of the proximity of their dark-suited foes or had mistaken the direction. Almost instantly they were shut utterly from the youth’s sight by the smoke from the energetic rifles of his companions. He strained his vision to learn the accomplishment of the volley, but the smoke hung before him.

The troops had apparently been advancing cautiously, with their rifles ready, when the young lieutenant spotted them. A volley from the blue regiment interrupted their advance. From his brief glimpse, it seemed that the troops had not known how close their dark-clad enemies were, or had mistaken the direction. Almost at once, smoke from his companions’ rapidly firing rifles hid the troops completely from the youth’s sight. He strained to see what the volley had accomplished, but the smoke hung in front of him.

The two bodies of troops exchanged blows in the manner of a pair of boxers. The fast angry firings went back and forth. The men in blue were intent with the despair of their circumstances and they seized upon the revenge to be had at close range. Their thunder swelled loud and valiant. Their curving front bristled with flashes and the place resounded with the clangor of their ramrods. The youth ducked and dodged for a time and achieved a few unsatisfactory views of the enemy. There appeared to be many of them and they were replying swiftly. They seemed moving toward the blue regiment, step by step. He seated himself gloomily on the ground with his flag between his knees.

The two groups of soldiers traded blows like a pair of boxers. Rapid, angry gunfire went back and forth. Desperate in their circumstances, the men in blue focused on taking revenge at close range. Their gunfire grew louder and more defiant. Flashes bristled along their curving front, and the place rang with the clatter of their ramrods. The youth ducked and dodged for a while, catching only a few unsatisfactory glimpses of the enemy. There seemed to be many of them, and they were firing back swiftly. They seemed to be moving toward the blue regiment, step by step. He sat down gloomily on the ground with his flag between his knees.

As he noted the vicious, wolflike temper of his comrades he had a sweet thought that if the enemy was about to swallow the regimental broom as a large prisoner, it could at least have the consolation of going down with bristles forward.

He saw the vicious, wolflike temper of his comrades, and a satisfying thought came to him. If the enemy was about to swallow the regiment like a giant broom, the regiment could take comfort in going down bristles first.

But the blows of the antagonist began to grow more weak. Fewer bullets ripped the air, and finally, when the men slackened to learn of the fight, they could see only dark, floating smoke. The regiment lay still and gazed. Presently some chance whim came to the pestering blur, and it began to coil heavily away. The men saw a ground vacant of fighters. It would have been an empty stage if it were not for a few corpses that lay thrown and twisted into fantastic shapes upon the sward.

But the enemy's blows began to weaken. Fewer bullets tore through the air. Finally, when the men slowed their fire to see how the fight was going, they saw only dark, drifting smoke. The regiment lay still and watched. Soon, as if on a whim, the troublesome haze began to roll slowly away. The men saw ground empty of fighters. It would have been an empty stage if not for a few corpses, thrown and twisted into strange shapes on the grass.

At sight of this tableau, many of the men in blue sprang from behind their covers and made an ungainly dance of joy. Their eyes burned and a hoarse cheer of elation broke from their dry lips.

At the sight of this scene, many of the men in blue sprang from behind cover and danced awkwardly for joy. Their eyes burned, and a hoarse cheer of triumph burst from their dry lips.

It had begun to seem to them that events were trying to prove that they were impotent. These little battles had evidently endeavored to demonstrate that the men could not fight well. When on the verge of submission to these opinions, the small duel had showed them that the proportions were not impossible, and by it they had revenged themselves upon their misgivings and upon the foe.

It had begun to seem to them that events were trying to prove they were powerless. These little battles had apparently tried to show that the men could not fight well. They were on the verge of accepting these judgments when the small duel showed them that the odds were not impossible. Through the duel, they took revenge on their doubts and on the enemy.

The impetus of enthusiasm was theirs again. They gazed about them with looks of uplifted pride, feeling new trust in the grim, always confident weapons in their hands. And they were men.

Their enthusiasm surged again. They looked around with renewed pride, feeling new trust in the grim, ever-confident weapons in their hands. And they were men.