Weekly Trinity journal., 1862-09-06
September 1862
The Realities of u Battle.

No person can begin to comprehend, from n
description the terrible realities of battle and
even those who participate are competent TO
speak only OF their own personal experience
Where friends and foes are falling by scores, and
every species of missile is flying through the air,
threatening each instant to send one into eternity,
little time is afforded for more observation or
reflection than is required for personal salety.--
The scene is one of the most exciting aud exhl-
arating that can be conceived lmAgue a regi-
ment passing you at "doublc quick the men
cheering with enthusiasm, their teeth set, their
eyes flashing and the whole in a frenzy of reso,
luton. You accompany them to the field. They
halt An oid.de camp passes to or from the com
manding General. The clear voice of the Off
GERS ring along the lines in tones of passionate
eloquence their words short thrilling aud elias.
tic. The word is given to march, and the body
moves into action. For the first time in your
life you hear the whZzing of iron hail. Grape
aud canister fly into the ranks, bombshells burst
overhead, and the fragments scatter all around
you. A friend falls, perhaps a dozen or twenty
OF your comrades lie wounded or dying at your
feet, strange Involuntary shrinking steals over
you which is impossible to resist.
You feel inclined neither to advance nor recede,
but are spell bound by the contending emotions
of the moral and physical man. The cheek
blancheS, the lip quiveis and the eye almost
hesltales to look upon the scene In this attitude
you may be ordered to stand an hour inactve,
havoc meanwhile marking its footsteps on every
side with blood. Finally the order is given to
advance, to fire, or to charge. And now what a
metamorphosis | With your first shot you become
n new man. Personal safety is your last con
cern. Fear has no existence in your BOSOM
Hesitation gives way to an uncomfortable desire
to rush into the thickest Of the fight The dead
and dying around you, only serve to stimulate
you to revenge. You become cool and delber-
ate, and watch the effect of bullets, the shower
OF bursting shells, the passing OF cannon balls as
they rake their murderous channels through your
ranks; the plunging of wounded horses, the
agonies Of the dying, and the clash OF contend
ing arms which follows the dashing charge with
q feeling so ealfouscd by surrounding orcum.
stances that your soul seems dead to every sympa.
thi2ing and selfish thought.
Such is the spirit which carries The soldier
through the field Of battle. But when the ex-
citement has passed, when the roll of musketry
has ceuscd, the noisy voices of the cannan are
stilIed, the dusky pail Of euphGrous smoke has
risen from the held, and you stroll over the thea.
ter Of carnage, hearing the groans OF the
wounded, dicovering here shattered almost be.
yond recognition, the form OF some dear friend.
whom only an hour before you met in the full
.iuSh % life sud bspfiness-fthefe another per
forated by bullet Il third with limb shot
away n fourth with his face dlsigured n hft
almost torn to fragments; slNth II headless
corpse the ground plowed mp and stained with
blood human brains splashed around many
limbs without bodies aud many bodies without
limbs, scattered here and there, aud the same
picture duplicated scores OF times--then you
begin to realize the horrors Of war, nnd expert
euce a reaction of nature. The heart opens its
toodgates, humanity asserts itself again, and you
begin TO feel. Friend and foe alike receive your
kndest sympathy. A battlefield is eminently
place that tries men souls