VII
THE FIRST TIME UNDER FIRE
The Experience of a Raw Recruit
WHEN the President ordered the army to be filled up by recruiting, drafting, or otherwise, and the peaceful moneyed men of the North were roused to protect their persons by draining their pockets, I was moved by love of country, of adventure, and three hundred dollars, to offer myself as a recruit in the —— Cavalry Regiment. So, under the protection of a strong body of infantry, I and fifty others were first jolted forty miles on a cattle-car, then marched twenty-five miles to corps headquarters, then fifteen across country to our brigadier-commander, and then back again near the place whence we started to the camp of the regiment. After accompanying on foot the movements of our mounted troops for the next three weeks, it suddenly occurred to some member of the General’s staff that we might perhaps be more efficient on horseback; and so we were transported back on the cars to the Cavalry Depot at Washington to be provided with horses. As we were all stout, active young fellows, we lost in these various movements only fifteen men from disease, desertion, and capture by guerillas, and only five or six others got disheartened, and escaped home on our passage through the city; so in three weeks more thirty of us, well-mounted, armed, and equipped, rejoined our command, and were reported fit for duty.
About a fortnight after this the squadron was called in from picket, and marched rapidly to unite with the regiment which was engaged with the enemy. As we drew near, the firing became sharper and sharper, and suddenly the captain commanding formed us in line, and carried us forward on a trot. The rapidity of the movement, the jingling of the accoutrements, the pressure of the horses and men on each side of me caused a sensation of excitement rather pleasant than otherwise, and I began to feel very brave and warlike.
“What is it?” asked I of the old soldier beside me. “Are we going to charge them right off?”
I shall never forget the look of contemptuous wonder with which he looked at me as he replied:
“I’ve been jest two years in this here regiment, and you’re the first man I ever met who thought he was going a-charging without drawing sabres. We’re agoing to be shot at, young feller. That’s all for the present.”
There was something so cold-blooded in this that my enthusiasm was suddenly checked. I asked no more questions until we were halted behind a thin belt of woods. On the other side active skirmishing was going on. Here I saw the old soldiers get their carbines in readiness, and snap the caps to clear the tubes. The consciousness of the deadly earnest in which the weapons were soon to be used turned me sick for the moment, and made me think of home and of death. All the time there were curious sounds in the air above our heads, as if large night-beetles had mistaken us for lighted candles, and were whirring around us; but as the others took no notice of them I hesitated to speak. At last, seeing the old soldier who had answered me dodge down quickly as one of these sounds was heard close above him, I ventured to inquire what sort of bugs those were that made such a noise? Indignation blended with scorn was visible in his countenance as he satisfied my curiosity:
“Bugs! Do you think that I am such a skeery old woman as to be twisting myself in my saddle ’cause a bug was flying at me? Them’s pisen, them are! Them’s bullets!”