Even at close range, in battle, the cannon can fire well. The gunner, protected in part by his piece, has an instant of coolness in which to lay accurately. That his pulse is racing does not derange his line of sight, if he has will power. The eye trembles little, and the piece once laid, remains so until fired.
The rifleman, like the gunner, only by will-power keeps his ability to aim. But the excitement in the blood, of the nervous system, opposes the immobility of the weapon in his hands. No matter how supported, a part of the weapon always shares the agitation of the man. He is instinctively in haste to fire his shot, which may stop the departure of the bullet destined for him. However lively the fire is, this vague reasoning, unformed as it is in his mind, controls with all the force of the instinct of self preservation. Even the bravest and most reliable soldiers then fire madly.
The greater number fire from the hip.
The theory of the range is that with continual pressure on the trigger the shot surprises the firer. But who practices it under fire?
However, the tendency in France to-day is to seek only accuracy. What good will it do when smoke, fog, darkness, long range, excitement, the lack of coolness, forbid clear sight?
It is hard to say, after the feats of fire at Sebastopol, in Italy, that accurate weapons have given us no more valuable service than a simple rifle. Just the same, to one who has seen, facts are facts. But—see how history is written. It has been set down that the Russians were beaten at Inkermann by the range and accuracy of weapons of the French troops. But the battle was fought in thickets and wooded country, in a dense fog. And when the weather cleared, our soldiers, our chasseurs were out of ammunition and borrowed from the Russian cartridge boxes, amply provided with cartridges for round, small calibered bullets. In either case there could have been no accurate fire. The facts are that the Russians were beaten by superior morale; that unaimed fire, at random, there perhaps more than elsewhere, had the only material effect.
When one fires and can only fire at random, who fires most hits most. Or perhaps it is better said that who fires least expects to be hit most.
Frederick was impressed with this, for he did not believe in the Potsdam maneuvers. The wily Fritz looked on fire as a means to quiet and occupy the undependable soldiers and it proved his ability that he could put into practice that which might have been a mistake on the part of any other general officer. He knew very well how to count on the effect of his fire, how many thousand cartridges it took to kill or wound an enemy. At first his soldiers had only thirty cartridges. He found the number insufficient, and after Mollwitz gave them sixty.
To-day as in Frederick's day, it is rapid random fire, the only one practicable, which has given prestige to the Prussians. This idea of rapid fire was lost after Frederick, but the Prussians have recovered it to-day by exercising common sense. However our veterans of the Empire had preserved this idea, which comes from instinct. They enlarged their vents, scornful of flare backs, to avoid having to open the chamber and prime. The bullet having a good deal of clearance when the cartridge was torn and put in the gun, with a blow of the butt on the ground they had their arms charged and primed.
But to-day as then, in spite of skill acquired in individual fire, men stop aiming and fire badly as soon as they are grouped into platoons to fire.