The Red Badge of Courage: An Episode of the American Civil War

rillful boy, prepared to follow the dingy lady upon the white horse, or the band in its faded chariot. He saw the yellow road, the lines of expectant people, and the sober houses. He par

e cracker box appeared

ied, "Here

ry possible cartridge ready to their hands. The boxes were pulled around into various positi

nd. He was engaged in knitting it about his throat with exquisite attention to its

Here they come!"

ho were giving shrill yells. They came on, stooping and swinging the

t perhaps his gun was not loaded. He stood trying to rally his faltering intel

l of the 304th. He shook his fist in the other's face. "You 've got to

de a passionate gesture and galloped away. The colonel, perchance to relieve his feelings, began to scold like a wet parrot. The youth, turning swiftly to make s

ing, as if to himself: "Oh, we 're in

fashion, as to a congregation of boys with primers. His talk was an endless repetition. "Reserve your f

at of a weeping urchin. He frequently, with a nervous movement, wiped

ng loaded. Before he was ready to begin-before he had announced to himself that he was about to fight-he threw the obedient,

g of which he was a part-a regiment, an army, a cause, or a country-was in a crisis. He was welded into a common personality which w

ave him assurance. The regiment was like a firework that, once ignited, proceeds superior to circumstances until its blazin

lt the subtle battle brotherhood more potent even than the cause for which they w

ents. He, in his thought, was careering off in other places, even as the carpenter who as he works whistles and thinks of his friend o

e-a blistering sweat, a sensation that his eyeballs were ab

gainst his rifle, which could only be used against one life at a time. He wished to rush forward and strangle with his fingers. He craved a power th

d him as against the swirling battle phantoms which were choking him, stuffing their smoke robes down his parched thr

that went as an undercurrent of sound, strange and chantlike with the resounding chords of the war march. The man at the youth's elbow was babbling. In it there was something soft and tender like the monologue of a babe. The tall soldier was s

le sleep heard this a

pounded them furiously into the hot rifle barrels. The flaps of the cartridge boxes were all unfastened, and bobbed idiotically with each movement. The rifles, once loaded, were jerked to the shoulder

directions and encouragements. The dimensions of their howls were extraordinary. They expended their lungs with prodigal wil

with sheeplike eyes at the lieutenant, who had seized him by the collar and was pommeling him. He drove him back into the ranks with many blows. The soldier went mechanically, dully, with his animal-like eyes upon the offic

n ill turn. The babbling man was grazed by a shot that made the blood stream widely down his face. He clapped both hands to his head. "Oh!" he said, and ran. Another grunted suddenly as if he had been struck by a club in the stomach. He sat down and gazed ruefully. In his eyes there was mute, indefi

lowly eddied away, the youth saw that the charge had been repulsed. The enemy were scattered into reluctant groups. He saw a man climb

ziedly. Many were silent. Apparently the

became aware of the foul atmosphere in which he had been struggling. He was grimy and dripping

ve helt 'em back. We 've helt 'em back; derned if we haven't." Th

ht and off to the left. He experienced the joy of a ma

were bent and heads were turned in incredible ways. It seemed that the dead men must have fallen from

. He thought they were aimed directly at him. Through the trees he watched the black figures of the gunners as they worked swiftl

ey argued with abrupt violence. It was a grim pow

ng drearily toward the rear. It was a flow

ar in front he thought he could see lighter masses protruding in po

along the line of the horizon. The tin

d of cheerings and clashes. Smoke

re and there were flags, the red in the stripes dominating. T

ht of the emblem. They were like beautif

o the lesser clamors which came from many directions, it occurred to him that they were fighting, too, over the

sky and the sun gleamings on the trees and fields. It was surprising that Nature