The misty sky was breaking for a clear day. Red clouds of sunrise streamed like pennants in the southwest. A man in the front line pitched forward and lay still.
"Who's that?"
"I do' know."
"Aiken, I guess."
"There, now! You jabbed me twice. Hold up your bayonet."
Men panted as if they had already been running, and shifted their feet nervously.
"To-day's my birthday."
"Going to celebrate it all right."
Several laughed in high, strained cackles.