"And, furthermore, were you particularly stuck upon Louis Philippe, sergeant?"
"I? Little did I trouble my head about him! What I was after was to obtain my furlough, so that I could go to the country and plant my cabbages. That's what I was after. And you, old boy, what were you after?"
"I am after the Republic that will guarantee work, and will furnish bread to those who need it."
"If that is so, old fellow, I am as much for the Republic as yourself, because I have a poor brother with a large family upon his hands, to whom to be out of work is like death. Ah! And was it for that that you fought, old fellow? By my honor, you were not so far out of the way. Long live the Republic!"
"And yet, it may be you, old fraud, who shot that bullet into my leg—but, at least you are not to be blamed."
"How the devil could I help it! Do we ever know why we fall into one another's hair? The old custom of obeying orders is what sets us agoing. We are ordered to fire—and we fire, without at first taking any particular aim—that's true. But the other side answers in kind. Zounds! From that minute it is each for his own skin."
"I believe you."
"And then one gets pricked, or sees a comrade fall; he grows hotter in the collar; the smell of gunpowder intoxicates you; and then you begin to bellow as if you were among deaf people—"
"Once so far, the rest comes natural, sergeant!"
"It does not matter so much, you see, my good old man, so long as you are at guns' length. But the moment you come to close quarters, to a bayonet charge, and you can see the white of each others' eyes, then the compliments exchanged are: 'Take this!' 'Take that!' and yet one feels a weakness stealing over his legs and arms."