Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1890-11-15
Let The Bugles Blow.

OI tue Calls now luOuSn, out Wndl IL
dear to ME, bringing up many tender
associations and recollections OF
those who long ago have answered
the last call on earth, and who are
waiting. under the sod and the dew,
for the summons of the chief trumpet
er, whose blast is TO awaken the
world There were but few of the
calls that were welcome TO the ear OF
the ever tired soldier. One OF them
was the recall from drill" Another
the dinner call; another retreat"
at sundown, if one was in camp and
tired, but il one was out on pass, eX-
piring at sundown this call was
always answered with a sigh, or with
under-breath words that were not a
benediction upon the trumpeter or
his trumpet. There hardly seemed a
minute in the day that the bugles
were not sounding from somewhere
for some purpose. The cavalry, ar
tillery and infantry all had different
calls for the same service. This was
done to avoid confusion, as often the
cavalry We're required TO mount and
away, when neither the infantry nor
artillery were required, and vice
versa. The call that the soldier de-
spised to hear above all other. was
that of break camp" or tear down. 7"
Imagine yourself comfortably quar-
tered in pretty grove, with your
tent nicely located, the scenery love-
ly, the water for drinking and bath
ing abundant and handy, the country
surrounding the camp rich in forage,
the weather lovely, the labors light
and the boys exchanging courtesies
on the picket line. Some fine morn
ing, sounding from some far away
headquarters, you catch the faint
notes of a bugle. The call is an un.
usual one, never being sounded nn-
less the troops have been in camp for
some days. The soldier going TO the
run to do his washing, sets down
his camp kettle and listens. He
thinks he has detected II few notes
that are unwelcomingly familiar; now
another trumpeter has taken up the
call he is nearer than the first, and
so the annoying message is waited
from one brigade to another until
presently you see your own regimen
tai bugler step out in front Of his tent
and repeat it with great apparent
relish. The soldiers take up the call
and mockingly repeat it:
Tear, tear. tear, tear down, tear down. tear
down
Tear, tear. tear, down, DOWN.
The bugles seem 10 say the words,
and unless the men are positively
worn out with camp life, something
that didn't happen in my time, they
always disliked to hear this call,
which told of march, fatigue, scant
rations, and most always meant
fight. Another call the boys objected
to was the fall in" call on the march.
On long marches, for the weary sol
diers to lay down in the hot dust and
go to sleep was matter OF course
No soldier believed that the halt for
breath, rest and fresh water was
ever half long enough. While all
the notes OF the bugle were pleasant
to hear in the abstract, it was irk-
some to think one always had to obey
them. A soldier OF our command OBJ
tanning furlough, loafed around camp
all one day after he had got his pa
pers in his pockets, so he could have
the satisfaction of saying, with EN-
phatic independence, Let the bu-
giles blow and be id"
The call to advance the lines" war
a thrilling one. This always meant
stirring up hornets nest, and often
brought on a general engagement.
The advancing OF the lines" simply
meant pushing the skirmish line fur
ther toward the enemy and taking
new position. II the enemy fell back,
all right. II they were defiant and
held their ground, the batteries be
gan to play, and often run US into a
pitched battle without just cause or
provocation, the main body far in the
rear, with only the slender line OF
skirmishers keeping up the racket.
The sweetest Of calls was artillery
taps. sounded fifteen minutes after
the tattoo roll call. 1t meant lights
out, and under its musical mandates
every light among the thousands OF
soldiers must be at once extiDguished.
1t could be heard from sweet toned
bugle from headquarters, and taken
up and re-echoed throughout the
vast army by a thousand buglers.
Many times one could hear the sadly
sweet sound half an hour after the
first one had blown, coming from the
far, far away, the tones beautifully
mellowed by the distance like an
echo to all the echoes OF the first
sound.
After this no other bugle note was
heard until the reveille next morning.
In case Of midnight alarms, the drums
were called into service. Some bri-
gades had more trunpeters than
others-a fact that seemed TO arise
from the taste or inclination OF the
commander. But the notes Of the
bugle was as familiar in the ears oi
the soldiers as household words, and
to-day there are but few men but de-
light to hear the glorious calls that
incited to action or lulled to slumber.
Tbara ia aomethin0 thrilling and soul.