Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1889-07-07
In THE TRENCHES At SEBASTOPOL.
by GENERAL vIscoUNT woLsELEY.

US, is only about SO years, notwithstand
ing the psalmist's comforting illusions to
the three score and ten which he seems to
have calculated upon. The man of "a,
who looks back to events which occurred
thirty-three years ago, is apt to shudder
as he does so, if he be one who has never
been able to conquer the instructive fear
of death. With closed eyes, as with weak
headed folk from the edge of precipice,
he draws back from contemplation that
painfully reminds him of how little sand
still remains in the hour-glass of his life
But whether We have or have not any
great dread of the thin old gentleman
| with the scythe-alternately called the
friend and enemy of mankind, according
to our mood-still these thoughts give rise
to sad reflections, to reflections not easily
realized or understood by the young.
Most of us lead such busy lives that we
think but little. Amongst the few who do
think, happy is the man who can look
back, and with God in his thoughts, feel
that he has lived more for his country and
others than himself
When | look round at my old comrades,
l feel-perhaps it is because l am myself a
soldier-how much happier they should
be on this account than the professional
and mercantile man of civil life
daily meet men, now gray with years,
many crippled and infrm from wounds or
hardships, in whose sober gait it is difficult
to recognize the wild ensign or the reck-
less Captain with whom l laughed time
away thirty-three years ago in the Crimea.
They carry nothing that indicates to the
youth of this generation, how CALAMITY
they fenced with death in the DAYS when
one gallant soldier was to England worth
scores of the vestrymen who nowadays call
themselves statesmen.
To them, individually, the remembrance
of that cruel siege, of that first winter on
those bleak, cold heights around Sebas-
topol, speaks of noble endurance and of
daring deeds. Peering back across that
vista of years, one sees the bright, living
faces of gallant comrades whom We laid in
shallow, rocky graves there, and it seems
but yesterday that their joyous laughter
rang loud as their strong, manly hands
grasped ours when We met in these
| trenches.
Yet now, except by few old comrades
who love to think of the generous, unself-
ish courage of those proud, gallant fellows,
| they are forgotten, and their very names
lie buried with their bodies
Mans mind is so happily constituted.
that in the remembrance of events long
past, especially if they be events of more
than individual interest, we remember
longest the great results and the pleasant,
aye, even the amusing circumstances asso-
ciated with them, and forget what was at
the time, perhaps, not simply disagreeable,
but full of misery and hardship.
| Sc it is with an old soldier; he loves to
dwell upon the events of the wars he has
taken part in, but in doing so he leaves
out Of all count the hardships, the misery
he endured, and remembers only the glory
achieved
Before the winter of 1886 set in with
all Its rain, snow, piercingly cold winds
and unusual rigor, life in the trenches,
during the day, was by no means unpleas-
ant. To the young, earnest and eager SOL
der it was, of course, full of interest, al
though after the battle of Inkerman it
was very evident to those with any knowl-
edge of war, that winter of trench-work
was before us.
Even those of us who were well-read IN
the history of our sieges in Spain under
Welllngton-and We had very few amongst
US then who knew anything at all of mill
tary history-had little conception of what
siege would be in such a climate and at
such distance from home.
The ordinary routine of daily duty was
as follows; The companies detailed for
the trenches from each battalion "fell in"
about o'clock in the morning, and
marched in the dark to the first parallel,
where they were told off by the field off,
| Ger on duty to their several positions in
the miles of siege works we had con-
structed
If your post was in the batteries in rear.
you had an easy time of it. You fired an
occasional gun at some working party of
the enemy, and you had a few mortar
shells back in return. The large sized
Russian shell was bigger than our thirteen
inch shell, then the largest in our army or
navy.
You watched what seemed its slow
solemn flight through the heavens. Owing
to Its wooden fuse it made a noise which is
best reproduced by the words "pitchah-
tewichatah, Observation-Disclosures" These
shells often burst in the air, when their
great splinters: each of many pounds
weight. came tearing through the air with
rushing sound of anger entirely unlike
the seemingly dignifed procedure of the
shell itself before it burst
When these shells did not burst before
they struck the ground, they fell with a
heavy, booming thud that seemed to shake
the nelghboring earth, burying themselves
some feet if they fell in our parapets. and
when they burst, like a small mine. thew
drove clay and stones about into showers
of dust.
Happily, the pieces into which they
burst were sufficiently large to be easily
seen by the quick and experienced eve.
and consequently to be lodged with toler-
able certainty by an agile man. At first,
all thought it necessary to lie down until
the shell burst. By doing so, one pre-
sented far smaller mark, and when living
on the ground it is often easy to obtain
cover for the head or body.
That short period when the fuse Kissed
and seemed to splutter between the she'll
striking the ground and its bursting was
always one of suspense, when men held
their breath if the shell were near. With
what pleasant feeling of relief one rose
unhurt after the explosion What numer-
Gus instances of hair-breadth escapes could
be related This practice of lying down
for mortar shell had come down to us
from the days of Wellington in Spain and
possibly from those of Marlborough in
Flanders.
Sebastopol was an immense arsenal for
army and navy; its stores of guns, mortars
and of ammunition were practically mex
haustible. For every shell we could bring
from England and convey to our trenches,
the Russians had fifty, on the spot, ready
for use. Those whom duty took most fire.
quently to the trenches were at last so
accustomed to this she'll fire, so expert in
telling by the sound of the shells flight
whereabouts it would fall, that after some
time they became very indifferent to it.
The officer relieved one evening, babe
me good-by at a mortar battery, where at
the time sort of duel was being carried
on with the Russians, whose practice lust
then was bad, and their fuses still worse.
A shell of theirs had just burst far up in
the air, somewhere about its highest point
OF flight. Before the hooking laughter it
occasioned had entirely ceased, a Sergeant
came running back to report that my
friend, who had only Just relieved me, was