Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1880-07-01
Supporting the Guns.

But he wasn't the least bit smart"
Supporting the Guns.
[Detroit Free Press.
Did you ever see a battery
take position?
1t hasn't the thrill of a caval-
ry charge, nor the grimness OF
a line Of bayonets moving slow
ly and determinedly on, but there
is peculiar excitement about it
that makes old veterans rise in
their saddles and cheer.
We have been fighting at the
edge of the woods. Every cart
ridge-box has been emptied once
and more, and a fourth of the
brigade has melted away i'll dead
and wounded and missing. Not
a cheer is heard i'll the whole
brigade. We know that we are
being driven foot by foot, and
that when we break back once
more the line will go to pieces
and the enemy will pour through
the gap.
Here comes help! i.
Down the crowded highway
gallops a battery, withdrawn
from some other position to save
ours. The field fence is scatter
ed while you could count thirty,
and the guns rush for the hill
behind us. Six horses to a piece
three riders to a gun. Over
dry bitches where a farmer would
not drive a wagon, through bush
es, over logs a foot thick, every
horse on the gallop, every rider
lashing his team and yelling
the sight behind us makes us
forget the foe in front. The
guns Jump two feet high as the
heavy wheels strike rock or log,
but not a horse slackcns his pace,
not a cannoneer loses his seat.
Six guns, six caissons, sixty hor-
ses, eighty men race for the brow
of the hill as if he who reached
II first would be knighted.
A moment ago the battery was
a confused mob. We look again,
and the six guns are in position,
the detached horses are hurrying
away, the ammunition chests
open, and along our line runs
the command, "Give them one
more volley and fall back to sup
port the guns!" We have scarce
ly obeyed when boom! boom!
boom! opens the battery, and
jets of fire jump down and
scorch the green trees under
: which we fought and despaired'
The shattered old brigade has
a chance to breathe for the first
time in three hours as we form q
: line of battle behind the guns
: and lie down. What grim, COO
/. fellows those cannoneers are
| Every man is a perfect machine
n
| Bullets plash dust into their ia
g ces, but they do not vince. Bull
4 lets sing over and around them
e but they do not dodge. Ther'
/ goes one to the earth, shot thro
4 the head as he sponges his gun
Y The machinery loses just on
t beat-misses Just one cog in tn
r wheel-and then works ava,
S again as before.
Every gun is using short-fus
v shell. The ground shakes ant
G trembles-the roar shuts out al
d sounds from a battle-line thre
d miles long, and the shells 6
a shrieking into the swamp to Gu
trees short off-to NOW grea
e gaps in the bushes-to hunt ou
', and shatter and mangle men un
l. til their corpses cannot be recoe
nized as human. You woul
er think a tornado was howlin
through the forest, followed b
f billowc of fire, and yet men liy
Y, through it-aye! press forwar
st to capture the battery! We ca
almost hear their shouts as the
IS form for the rush.
r Now the shells are change
ID for grape and canister, and tt
as guns served so fast that all n
ports blend into one mighty roa
[e The shriek of a shell is the wicl
X eldest sound in war, but nothir
RI makes the flesh crawl like IL
rs demoniac singing, purring, viii
a. Ting grape shot and the serpen
he like hiss of canister. Mems lie,
,st and arms are not shot throug
he but torn off. Heads are tol
ne from bodies, and bodies cut
n 1.-TWO. A round shot or shell tax
two men out of the ranks as