The brigade was halted in the fringe of a grove. The men crouched among
the trees and pointed their restless guns out at the fields. They tried
to look beyond the smoke.
Out of this haze they could see running men. Some shouted information
and gestured as they hurried.
The men of the new regiment watched and listened eagerly, while their
tongues ran on in gossip of the battle. They mouthed rumors that had
flown like birds out of the unknown.
“They say Perry has been driven in with big loss.”
“Yes, Carrott went t’ th’ hospital. He said he was sick. That smart
lieutenant is commanding ‘G’ Company. Th’ boys say they won’t be under
Carrott no more if they all have t’ desert. They allus knew he was a—”
“Hannises’ batt’ry is took.”
“It ain’t either. I saw Hannises’ batt’ry off on th’ left not more’n
fifteen minutes ago.”
“Well—”
“Th’ general, he ses he is goin’ t’ take th’ hull command of th’ 304th
when we go inteh action, an’ then he ses we’ll do sech fightin’ as
never another one reg’ment done.”
“They say we’re catchin’ it over on th’ left. They say th’ enemy driv’
our line inteh a devil of a swamp an’ took Hannises’ batt’ry.”
“No sech thing. Hannises’ batt’ry was ’long here ’bout a minute ago.”
“That young Hasbrouck, he makes a good off’cer. He ain’t afraid ’a
nothin’.”
“I met one of th’ 148th Maine boys an’ he ses his brigade fit th’ hull
rebel army fer four hours over on th’ turnpike road an’ killed about
five thousand of ’em. He ses one more sech fight as that an’ th’ war
’ll be over.”
“Bill wasn’t scared either. No, sir! It wasn’t that. Bill ain’t
a-gittin’ scared easy. He was jest mad, that’s what he was. When that
feller trod on his hand, he up an’ sed that he was willin’ t’ give his
hand t’ his country, but he be dumbed if he was goin’ t’ have every
dumb bushwhacker in th’ kentry walkin’ ’round on it. So he went t’ th’
hospital disregardless of th’ fight. Three fingers was crunched. Th’
dern doctor wanted t’ amputate ’m, an’ Bill, he raised a heluva row, I
hear. He’s a funny feller.”
The din in front swelled to a tremendous chorus. The youth and his
fellows were frozen to silence. They could see a flag that tossed in
the smoke angrily. Near it were the blurred and agitated forms of
troops. There came a turbulent stream of men across the fields. A
battery changing position at a frantic gallop scattered the stragglers
right and left.
A shell screaming like a storm banshee went over the huddled heads of
the reserves. It landed in the grove, and exploding redly flung the
brown earth. There was a little shower of pine needles.
Bullets began to whistle among the branches and nip at the trees. Twigs
and leaves came sailing down. It was as if a thousand axes, wee and
invisible, were being wielded. Many of the men were constantly dodging
and ducking their heads.
The lieutenant of the youth’s company was shot in the hand. He began to
swear so wondrously that a nervous laugh went along the regimental
line. The officer’s profanity sounded conventional. It relieved the
tightened senses of the new men. It was as if he had hit his fingers
with a tack hammer at home.
He held the wounded member carefully away from his side so that the
blood would not drip upon his trousers.
The captain of the company, tucking his sword under his arm, produced a
handkerchief and began to bind with it the lieutenant’s wound. And they
disputed as to how the binding should be done.
The battle flag in the distance jerked about madly. It seemed to be
struggling to free itself from an agony. The billowing smoke was filled
with horizontal flashes.
Men rushing swiftly emerged from it. They grew in numbers until it was
seen that the whole command was fleeing. The flag suddenly sank down as
if dying. Its motion as it fell was a gesture of despair.
Wild yells came from behind the walls of smoke. A sketch in gray and
red dissolved into a moblike body of men who galloped like wild horses.
The veteran regiments on the right and left of the 304th immediately
began to jeer. With the passionate song of the bullets and the banshee
shrieks of shells were mingled loud catcalls and bits of facetious
advice concerning places of safety.
But the new regiment was breathless with horror. “Gawd! Saunders’s got
crushed!” whispered the man at the youth’s elbow. They shrank back and
crouched as if compelled to await a flood.
The youth shot a swift glance along the blue ranks of the regiment. The
profiles were motionless, carven; and afterward he remembered that the
color sergeant was standing with his legs apart, as if he expected to
be pushed to the ground.
The following throng went whirling around the flank. Here and there
were officers carried along on the stream like exasperated chips. They
were striking about them with their swords and with their left fists,
punching every head they could reach. They cursed like highwaymen.
A mounted officer displayed the furious anger of a spoiled child. He
raged with his head, his arms, and his legs.
Another, the commander of the brigade, was galloping about bawling. His
hat was gone and his clothes were awry. He resembled a man who has come
from bed to go to a fire. The hoofs of his horse often threatened the
heads of the running men, but they scampered with singular fortune. In
this rush they were apparently all deaf and blind. They heeded not the
largest and longest of the oaths that were thrown at them from all
directions.
Frequently over this tumult could be heard the grim jokes of the
critical veterans; but the retreating men apparently were not even
conscious of the presence of an audience.
The battle reflection that shone for an instant in the faces on the mad
current made the youth feel that forceful hands from heaven would not
have been able to have held him in place if he could have got
intelligent control of his legs.
There was an appalling imprint upon these faces. The struggle in the
smoke had pictured an exaggeration of itself on the bleached cheeks and
in the eyes wild with one desire.
The sight of this stampede exerted a floodlike force that seemed able
to drag sticks and stones and men from the ground. They of the reserves
had to hold on. They grew pale and firm, and red and quaking.
The youth achieved one little thought in the midst of this chaos. The
composite monster which had caused the other troops to flee had not
then appeared. He resolved to get a view of it, and then, he thought he
might very likely run better than the best of them.