The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1888-11-10
SOLDIERS STORY.
James Franklin Fits, in Chicago.

Ibelieve it happened in the second
year of the war. The memories of
that time are becoming confused;
names and dates are escaping us,
even places and situations are get
ting mixed. The strange incident
which am to tell would not gain
interest if my name and the names
of all connected with it were to be
stated. So my preface will end with
the statement that the story speaks
of the year 1862, and OF a locality
somewhere in Virginia.
Our division lay well back from the
front; too far back, these occur
rences proved. Twas a sergeant in
an infantry regiment. We had lain
there a week, and everything seemed
peaceful and quiet. Such soldering
was fun, we used to say. Good and
plentiful rations, drills and parades,
plenty of time to smoke. to play
cards, to criticise Mcclellan, and tell
each other how the war should be
conducted-and plenty of leisure to
write letters home to the girls.
Those who were given to grumbling
said that this was mere holiday work;
that we had seen little enough O
real war, so far, and was not likely
tosee more. Such impotence gave
Max, the veteran of our company
who had seen war in Europe, the op-
portunity to say, 80 you waits, boys,
you waits. You see him quick enough
and close enough, mine Gott, you
does"
The change came in the night, the
dead of night. The sleepers were
reused with the words, "Get ready;
we march at once" There was a stir
a murmur all through the camps.
We did not know what had happened
only the very air was full of stir and
action. Within the half hour we were
in line, in column. This shadowy
battalion, made up of dark figures
laden with muskets and accoutre-
ments, Joined other regiments, also
under arms and moving; indistinct
shapes of men on horses went by;
without loud words ofcommand, with
nothing more than "torward?"
uttered under the breath by the cap
tains, our brigade in the lead took up
the route-step and plunged into the
night in the direction of the front.
Twas young in the stern experiences
of soldier life;none of us were veterans,
saving Prussian Max. The good
blood of soldiers of l776 and 1912
was in my veins, and had the ardor
and strength of soul that belongs to
the youth of 20. Looking back now
at the events of those hours, it does
not seem to me that I was at any
time unduly excited. Yetit was hard
for me to make what was passing be-
fore me, l being part of it seem real.
The call had come so suddenly, the
movement was so prompt, so rapid
and silent, the night was so obscure
clouds for the most part hiding the
faint stars, that some ghostly quail
ity seemed to invert it. Not from
the first had I heard a loud order
given, loud word spoken. The bur-
den of quick-coming terrors lay upon
thousands. The men, usually so
talkative and jovial, were hushed in
to silence that was almost painful.
Marching in my place in the line OF
file-closers at the right, now and then
a whisper in the ranks came to me, or
a few low-spoken words; once | heard
the man next the captain ask, "Do
you think it's a battle, cap?" and the
brief reply-"O, Idon't know-ldon't
know"
For three hours we marched thus
across the country, ranks well closed
up, no struggling. Then the depths
Of a dense wood swallowed the
column as it filed sharply to the left.
A short cut, we afterward learned,
had been found, aud n guide to show
the way. 1t was apparently a cow
path, or at the best a cart-path,
through the forest; four men abreast
filed it. For miles, now, we went on
almost in the dark, everything black
to the right and left only the muffied
sound of the moving of this host,
like an army of phantoms, the beat
ing of many feet on the ground, the
subdued whispers, clank of canteen
on a bayonet sheath. Above the
tree tops we sometimes saw q ray of
starlight.
"Then, as we marched-and we had
been moving six hours, but with a
single brief halt-a noise came family
out of the distance like a ar-off peal
of thunder. Another came, and still
another. The sound set the blood
tingling in my veins. AS we pressed
on, the noises grew louder and more
frequent, like the striking of enor-
nous clocks; further on they were
blent into what seemed to be an I'M
renting roar, out of which came at
times sharp and short explosions.
Something seemed to crowd the
files to the right and left; dimly saw
a mounted figure riding at a walk
down through the center of the
column in the interval thus made;
and heard voice quietly and earn
estly, but without excitement, ut
tering the words: "Push ahead,