Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1882-06-08
BACKING THE BATTERY.
The Sight that Brings the Blood Bounding Throl
the Veins of ola yaferarS

The Sight that Brings the Blood Bounding Through
the Veins of Old Veterans.
Did you ever see battery take posi-
ton?
1t hasn't the thrill of cavalry charge
nor the grimness of line of bayonets
moving slowly and determinedly on,
but there Is a 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 cartridge box has
been emptied once more, and fourth
of a brigade has melted away in d lad
and wounded and missing. Not cheer
is heard in 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 viii pour through the gap.
Here comes help!
Down the crowded highway gallops a
battery, Withdrawn from some other
position to save ours. The field fence
is scattered while you count thirty, and
the hill behind us. Six horses to piece
three riders to each gun. Over dry
bitches where a farmer would not drive
wagon, through clumps of bushes,
over logs foot thick, every horse on
the gallop, every rider flashing 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 rocks or logs, but not horse
slackens his pace, not cannOneer loses
his seat. Six guns, six caissons, sixty
hon SEES, eighty men race for the brow of
| the hill as if he who reaches it first
would be knighted.
| A moment ago the battery was a con-
fused mob. We look again and the six
guns are in position, the detached hor-
ses hurrying away, the ammunition
chests open, and along our line runs the
command, Give them one more volley
and fall back to support the gunsn'
We have scarcely obeyed, when 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 chance
! to breathe for the first time in three
hours, and we form line of battle be-
hind the guns and lie down. What
grim, cool fellows those cannoneers are!
Every man is perfect machine Bull
lets splash dust into their faces but they
do not vince. Bullets sing over and
around them but they do not dodge.
There goes one to the earth, shot through
the head as he sponged his gun. The
machinery loses just one beat-misses
just one cog in the wheel-and then
works away again as before.
Every gun is using short fuse shell.
The ground shakes and trembles-th
roar shuts out all sounds from battle
line three miles long. and the shell &C
shrek into the swamp to cut trees short
otf-to NOW great gaps in the bushes tC
hunt out and shatter and mangle men
until their corpses cannot be recognized
as human. You would think tornado
was bowling through the forest, followed
by pillows of fire and yet men live
through it-aye! press forward to cap,
ture the battery! We can hear Their
shouts as they form for a rush.
Now the shells are changed for grape
and canister, and the guns are served SC
fast that all reports blend into one mighty
roar The Shrek of shell is the
wickedest sound in war, but nothing
makes the flesh crawl like the demoniaC
singing, purring, whistling, grapeshot
and the serpentlike hiss Of canister.
Mems legs and arms are not shot through
but torn off Heads are torn from bod.
les and bodies cut in two. A round shot
or shell takes two men out of the ranks
as it crashes through Grape and can.
lister NOV swath. and pile the dead
upon each other.
Through the smoke we see swarm
of men. 1t is not a battle line, but a
mob of men desperate enough to battle
their bayonetS in the flame of the guns
The guns leap from the ground al
most as they are depressed on the foe,
and shrieks and screams and shouts
blend into one awful and steady cry
Twenty men out on the battery are down
and the firing is interrupted The foe
accepts it as Il sign of wavering, and
come rushing on. They are not ten feet
away when the guns give them q last
shot. That discharge picks living men
off their feet and throws men into the
swamp, blackened, bloody mass.
Up now, as the enemy are among the
guns! There is silence of ten seconds
and then the flash and roar of more than
three thousands muskets, and rush
forward with bayonet. For what? Nei
ther on the right nor left nor in front Of
us is living foe! There are corpses
around us which have been struck by
by three, four, and even six bullets, and
nowhere on this acre of ground is q
wounded man! The wheels of the guns
cannot move until the blockade of dead
is removed. Men cannot pass from
caisson to gun without climbing over
wirrows of dead. Every gun and wheel
is smeared with blood every foot OF
grass has its horrible stain.
Historians write of the glory of wal
burial parties saw murder where hist
torians saw glory.-Detrou Free Press