CHAPTER III
When another night came the columns, changed to
purple streaks, filed across two pontoon bridges. A glaring fire
wine-tinted the waters of the river. Its rays, shining upon the
moving masses of troops, brought forth here and there sudden gleams
of silver or gold. Upon the other shore a dark and mysterious range
of hills was curved against the sky. The insect voices of the night
sang solemnly.
After this crossing the youth assured himself that
at any moment they might be suddenly and fearfully assaulted from
the caves of the lowering woods. He kept his eyes watchfully upon
the darkness.
But his regiment went unmolested to a camping
place, and its soldiers slept the brave sleep of wearied men. In
the morning they were routed out with early energy, and hustled
along a narrow road that led deep into the forest.
It was during this rapid march that the regiment
lost many of the marks of a new command.
The men had begun to count the miles upon their
fingers, and they grew tired. “Sore feet an’ damned short rations,
that’s all,” said the loud soldier. There was perspiration and
grumblings. After a time they began to shed their knapsacks. Some
tossed them unconcernedly down; others hid them carefully,
asserting their plans to return for them at some convenient time.
Men extricated themselves from thick shirts. Presently few carried
anything but their necessary clothing, blankets, haversacks,
canteens, and arms and ammunition. “You can now eat and shoot,”
said the tall soldier to the youth. “That’s all you want to
do.”
There was sudden change from the ponderous infantry
of theory to the light and speedy infantry of practice. The
regiment, relieved of a burden, received a new impetus. But there
was much loss of valuable knapsacks, and, on the whole, very good
shirts.14
But the regiment was not yet veteranlike in
appearance. Veteran regiments in the army were likely to be very
small aggregations of men. Once, when the command had first come to
the field, some perambula‘ing veterans, noting the length of their
column, had accosted them thus: “Hey, fellers, what brigade is
that?” And when the men had replied that they formed a regiment and
not a brigade, the older soldiers had laughed, and said, “O
Gawd!”15
Also, there was too great a similarity in the hats.
The hats of a regiment should properly represent the history of
headgear for a period of years. And, moreover, there were no
letters of faded gold speaking from the colors. They were new and
beautiful, and the color bearer habitually oiled the pole.
Presently the army again sat down to think. The
odor of the peaceful pines was in the men’s nostrils. The sound of
monotonous axe blows rang through the forest, and the insects,
nodding upon their perches, crooned like old women. The youth
returned to his theory of a blue demonstration.
One gray dawn, however, he was kicked in the leg by
the tall soldier, and then, before he was entirely awake, he found
himself running down a wood road in the midst of men who were
panting from the first effects of speed. His canteen banged
rhythmically upon his thigh, and his haversack bobbed softly. His
musket bounced a trifle from his shoulder at each stride and made
his cap feel uncertain upon his head.
He could hear the men whisper jerky sentences:
“Say—what’s all this—about?” “What th’ thunder—we—skedaddlin’ this
way fer?” “Billie—keep off m’ feet. Yeh run—like a cow.” And the
loud soldier’s shrill voice could be heard: “What th’ devil they in
sich a hurry for?”
The youth thought the damp fog of early morning
moved from the rush of a great body of troops. From the distance
came a sudden spatter of firing.
He was bewildered. As he ran with his comrades he
strenuously tried to think, but all he knew was that if he fell
down those coming behind would tread upon him. All his faculties
seemed to be needed to guide him over and past obstructions. He
felt carried along by a mob.
The sun spread disclosing rays, and, one by one,
regiments burst into view like armed men just born of the earth.
The youth perceived that the time had come. He was about to be
measured. For a moment he felt in the face of his great trial like
a babe, and the flesh over his heart seemed very thin. He seized
time to look about him calculatingly.
But he instantly saw that it would be impossible
for him to escape from the regiment. It inclosed him. And there
were iron laws of tradition and law on four sides. He was in a
moving box.
As he perceived this fact it occurred to him that
he had never wished to come to the war. He had not enlisted of his
free will. He had been dragged by the merciless government. And now
they were taking him out to be slaughtered.
The regiment slid down a bank and wallowed across a
little stream. The mournful current moved slowly on, and from the
water, shaded black, some white bubble eyes looked at the
men.
As they climbed the hill on the farther side
artillery began to boom. Here the youth forgot many things as he
felt a sudden impulse of curiosity. He scrambled up the bank with a
speed that could not be exceeded by a bloodthirsty man.
He expected a battle scene.
There were some little fields girted and squeezed
by a forest. Spread over the grass and in among the tree trunks, he
could see knots and waving lines of skirmishers who were running
hither and thither and firing at the landscape.16 A
dark battle line lay upon a sunstruck clearing that gleamed orange
color. A flag fluttered.
Other regiments floundered up the bank. The brigade
was formed in line of battle, and after a pause started slowly
through the woods in the rear of the receding skirmishers, who were
continually melting into the scene to appear again farther on. They
were always busy as bees, deeply absorbed in their little
combats.
The youth tried to observe everything. He did not
use care to avoid trees and branches, and his forgotten feet were
constantly knocking against stones or getting entangled in briers.
He was aware that these battalions with their commotions were woven
red and startling into the gentle fabric of softened greens and
browns. It looked to be a wrong place for a battlefield.
The skirmishers in advance fascinated him. Their
shots into thickets and at distant and prominent trees spoke to him
of tragedies—hidden, mysterious, solemn.
Once the line encountered the body of a dead
soldier. He lay upon his back staring at the sky. He was dressed in
an awkward suit of yellowish brown. The youth could see that the
soles of his shoes had been worn to the thinness of writing paper,
and from a great rent in one the dead foot projected piteously. And
it was as if fate had betrayed the soldier. In death it exposed to
his enemies that poverty which in life he had perhaps concealed
from his friends.
The ranks opened covertly to avoid the corpse. The
invulnerable dead man forced a way for himself The youth looked
keenly at the ashen face. The wind raised the tawny beard. It moved
as if a hand were stroking it. He vaguely desired to walk around
and around the body and stare; the impulse of the living to try to
read in dead eyes the answer to the Question.
During the march the ardor which the youth had
acquired when out of view of the field rapidly faded to nothing.
His curiosity was quite easily satisfied. If an intense scene had
caught him with its wild swing as he came to the top of the bank,
he might have gone roaring on. This advance upon Nature was too
calm. He had opportunity to reflect. He had time in which to wonder
about himself and to attempt to probe his sensations.
Absurd ideas took hold upon him. He thought that he
did not relish the landscape. It threatened him. A coldness swept
over his back, and it is true that his trousers felt to him that
they were no fit for his legs at all.
A house standing placidly in distant fields had to
him an ominous look. The shadows of the woods were formidable. He
was certain that in this vista there lurked fierce-eyed hosts. The
swift thought came to him that the generals did not know what they
were about. It was all a trap. Suddenly those close forests would
bristle with rifle barrels. Ironlike brigades would appear in the
rear. They were all going to be sacrificed. The generals were
stupids. The enemy would presently swallow the whole command. He
glared about him, expecting to see the stealthy approach of his
death.
He thought that he must break from the ranks and
harangue his comrades. They must not all be killed like pigs; and
he was sure it would come to pass unless they were informed of
these dangers. The generals were idiots to send them marching into
a regular pen. There was but one pair of eyes in the corps. He
would step forth and make a speech. Shrill and passionate words
came to his lips.
The line, broken into moving fragments by the
ground, went calmly on through fields and woods. The youth looked
at the men nearest him, and saw, for the most part, expressions of
deep interest, as if they were investigating something that had
fascinated them. One or two stepped with overvaliant airs as if
they were already plunged into war. Others walked as upon thin ice.
The greater part of the untested men appeared quiet and absorbed.
They were going to look at war, the red animal—war, the
blood-swollen god. And they were deeply engrossed in this
march.
As he looked the youth gripped his outcry at his
throat. He saw that even if the men were tottering with fear they
would laugh at his warning. They would jeer him, and, if
practicable, pelt him with missiles. Admitting that he might be
wrong, a frenzied declamation of the kind would turn him into a
worm.
He assumed, then, the demeanor of one who knows
that he is doomed alone to unwritten responsibilities. He lagged,
with tragic glances at the sky.
He was surprised presently by the young lieutenant
of his company, who began heartily to beat him with a sword,
calling out in a loud and insolent voice: “Come, young man, get up
into ranks there. No skulking’ll do here.”17 He
mended his pace with suitable haste. And he hated the lieutenant,
who had no appreciation of fine minds. He was a mere brute.
After a time the brigade was halted in the
cathedral light of a forest. 18 The
busy skirmishers were still popping. Through the aisles of the wood
could be seen the floating smoke from their rifles. Sometimes it
went up in little balls, white and compact.
During this halt many men in the regiment began
erecting tiny hills in front of them. They used stones, sticks,
earth, and anything they thought might turn a bullet. Some built
comparatively large ones, while others seemed content with little
ones.
This procedure caused a discussion among the men.
Some wished to fight like duelists, believing it to be correct to
stand erect and be, from their feet to their foreheads, a mark.
They said they scorned the devices of the cautious. But the others
scoffed in reply, and pointed to the veterans on the flanks who
were digging at the ground like terriers. In a short time there was
quite a barricade along the regimental fronts. Directly, however,
they were ordered to withdraw from that place.
This astounded the youth. He forgot his stewing
over the advance movement. “Well, then, what did they march us out
here for?” he demanded of the tall soldier. The latter with calm
faith began a heavy explanation, although he had been compelled to
leave a little protection of stones and dirt to which he had
devoted much care and skill.
When the regiment was aligned in another position
each man’s regard for his safety caused another line of small
intrenchments. They ate their noon meal behind a third one. They
were moved from this one also. They were marched from place to
place with apparent aimlessness.
The youth had been taught that a man became another
thing in a battle. He saw his salvation in such a change. Hence
this waiting was an ordeal to him. He was in a fever of impatience.
He considered that there was denoted a lack of purpose on the part
of the generals. He began to complain to the tall soldier. “I can’t
stand this much longer,” he cried. “I don’t see what good it does
to make us wear out our legs for nothin‘.” He wished to return to
camp, knowing that this affair was a blue demonstration; or else to
go into a battle and discover that he had been a fool in his
doubts, and was, in truth, a man of traditional courage. The strain
of present circumstances he felt to be intolerable.
The philosophical tall soldier measured a sandwich
of cracker and pork and swallowed it in a nonchalant manner. “Oh, I
suppose we must go reconnoitering around the country jest to keep
‘em from getting too close, or to develop ’em, or something.”
“Huh!” said the loud soldier.
“Well,” cried the youth, still fidgeting, “I’d
rather do anything ‘most than go tramping ’round the country all
day doing no good to nobody and jest tiring ourselves out.”
“So would I,” said the loud soldier. “It ain’t
right. I tell you if anybody with any sense was a-runnin’ this army
it—”
“Oh, shut up!” roared the tall private. “You little
fool. You little damn’ cuss.j You
ain’t had that there coat and them pants on for six months, and yet
you talk as if—”
“Well, I wanta do some fighting anyway,”
interrupted the other. “I didn’t come here to walk. I could ‘ave
walked to home—’round an ‘round the barn, if I jest wanted to
walk.”
The tall one, red-faced, swallowed another sandwich
as if taking poison in despair.
But gradually, as he chewed, his face became again
quiet and contented. He could not rage in fierce argument in the
presence of such sandwiches. During his meals he always wore an air
of blissful contemplation of the food he had swallowed. His spirit
seemed then to be communing with the viands.
He accepted new environment and circumstance with
great coolness, eating from his haversack at every opportunity. On
the march he went along with the stride of a hunter, objecting to
neither gait nor distance. And he had not raised his voice when he
had been ordered away from three little protective piles of earth
and stone, each of which had been an engineering feat worthy of
being made sacred to the name of his grandmother.
In the afternoon the regiment went out over the
same ground it had taken in the morning. The landscape then ceased
to threaten the youth. He had been close to it and become familiar
with it.
When, however, they began to pass into a new
region, his old fears of stupidity and incompetence reassailed him,
but this time he doggedly let them babble. He was occupied with his
problem, and in his desperation he concluded that the stupidity did
not greatly matter.
Once he thought he had concluded that it would be
better to get killed directly and end his troubles. Regarding death
thus out of the corner of his eye, he conceived it to be nothing
but rest, and he was filled with a momentary astonishment that he
should have made an extraordinary commotion over the mere matter of
getting killed. He would die; he would go to some place where he
would be understood. It was useless to expect appreciation of his
profound and fine senses from such men as the lieutenant. He must
look to the grave for comprehension.
The skirmish fire increased to a long clattering
sound. With it was mingled far-away cheering. A battery
spoke.
Directly the youth would see the skirmishers
running. They were pursued by the sound of musketry fire. After a
time the hot, dangerous flashes of the rifles were visible. Smoke
clouds went slowly and insolently across the fields like observant
phantoms. The din became crescendo, like the roar of an oncoming
train.
A brigade ahead of them and on the right went into
action with a rending roar. It was as if it had exploded. And
thereafter it lay stretched in the distance behind a long gray
wall, that one was obliged to look twice at to make sure that it
was smoke.
The youth, forgetting his neat plan of getting
killed, gazed spell bound. His eyes grew wide and busy with the
action of the scene. His mouth was a little ways open.
Of a sudden he felt a heavy and sad hand laid upon
his shoulder. Awakening from his trance of observation he turned
and beheld the loud soldier.
“It’s my first and last battle, old boy,” said the
latter, with intense gloom. He was quite pale and his girlish lip
was trembling.
“Eh?” murmured the youth in great
astonishment.
“It’s my first and last battle, old boy,” continued
the loud soldier. “Something tells me—”
“What?”
“I’m a gone coonk this
first time and—and I w-want you to take these here
things—to—my—folks.” He ended in a quavering sob of pity for
himself. He handed the youth a little packet done up in a yellow
envelope.
“Why, what the devil—” began the youth again.
But the other gave him a glance as from the depths
of a tomb, and raised his limp hand in a prophetic manner and
turned away.