The army waits restlessly as the long moments creep by very slowly. The waiting
reminds the youth of the village street back home as everyone waited in
anticipation for the circus parade to pass in the spring. He remembers standing
as a small, thrillful boy, preparing to follow the dingy lady upon the white
horse, or the band in its faded chariot. He can clearly see the yellow road,
the lines of expectant people, and the sober houses. He distinctly remembers an
old fellow who used to sit in front of the store, feigning to despise such
exhibitions. A thousand details of color and form surge brightly in his mind.
The old fellow upon the cracker box appearing in middle prominence.
Some one cries, “Here they come!”
There is a great rustling and muttering among the men. They
display a feverish desire to have every possible cartridge easily accessible.
The boxes are pulled around into various positions, and the men adjust them
carefully and strategically. It is as if they are trying on seven hundred new
bonnets.
The tall soldier prepares his rifle and produces a red
handkerchief. He is in the process of tying the handkerchief around his neck,
paying close attention to where he places the cloth, when the cry is repeated
up and down the line. The muffled sound echoes like a roar as it passes to
either end of the line.
“Here they come! Here they come!” Gun locks click as the
soldiers ready their weapons.
Across the smoke-infested fields come a brown swarm of
running men whose yells echo shrilly as they advance. As they advance, they
stop and swing their rifles at all angles. A tilted flag advances quickly at
the front of the line.
The youth catches sight of the advancing army and suddenly
wonders if perhaps his gun is loaded. As they continue to advance he tries to remember
loading it and soon concludes it isn’t loaded, and that frightens him.
(Beginning of Chapter Five)
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