Sherman. You are indebted to your own right arm, sir.
Halcom. I have been but a simple soldier, no more entitled to advancement than the private who takes the brunt of the fight in the first line.
Sherman. Halcom, some men are born to command—to lead a forlorn hope—
Halcom. Which I never have.
Sherman. Indeed! When at Lookout Mountain the storm of rebel shot had melted the first line, and the reserves were already wavering, and you seized and dared them to follow their flag, rallying the broken ranks to that wild charge that swept the rebel army from its entrenchments among the clouds, it was a glory beside which the command of this army pales into insignificance!
Halcom. Then the soldier shares equally with his commander! (Watches out R.)
Sherman. But you have not told me of this marvelous escape.
Halcom. Ask me of something I cannot comprehend, and you have all I can give.
Sherman. It often acts like that.
Halcom. How?