The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-01-20
Killing a Man.

They do not call it murder when men
meet to slaughter each other in battle.
They simply report 80 many dead,
wounded and missing. When you fire
into the smoke concealing the other
battle line you fire with the hope to kill
or wound. 1t is your duty. Battles
cannot be won without killing. You
load and fre-load and fire-move to
the right or left-advance or retreat,
and when the battle is over you may
have fired fifty rounds and yet you have
not had near sight of the enemy;
YOU have simply fired at him, and you
cannot vouch that single one of your
bullets has found living target.
Here is brigade of us in battle-line
acro.s an old meadow: our right and
left join other brigades. We have
thrown down the rail fence, gathered
logs and brush and sod, and erected
breastwork. 1t is only a slight one,
but enough to shelter US while lying
down. A division of the enemy breaks
cover haf.a-mile away and comes
marching down upon us. The field
pieces behind US open on their solid
columns, but they are not checked
Under the smoke we can see the work
of the shells, but they cannot MT that
mass of men. The grape and canister
does awful execution, but there should
be dozen guns instead of six.
They are going to charge US. The
guns cannot prevent that. Orders run
along the line, and we are waiting until
every bullet, no matter if fired by a
soldier with his eyes shut, must hit a
foe. l select my man while he is yet
beyond range. l have eyes for no
| other. He is a tall, sOldierly fellow,
wearing the stripes of a sergeant. AS
he comes nearer l imagine that he is
| looking as fixedly at me as l am at him.
| | admire his GOODNESS. He looks neither
! TO the right nor to the left. The man
on his right is hit and goes down, but
| he does not falter.
am going to kill that mani l have
| a rest for my gun on the breastwork,
aud when the order comes to fire l can
not miss him. He is living his last
minute on earth! We are calmly wait
ing until our volley shall prove verit-
able flame of death. Now they close
up the gaps and we can hear the shouts
Of their officers as they make ready to
charge. My man is still opposite me.
He still seems to be looking at me and
no one else. | know the word is COM
ing in few seconds more, and | aim
at his chest. could almost be sure of
hitting him with stone when we get
The word to fire. There is a billow of
hame-a billow of smoke-a fierce
crash and 1000 bullets are fired into
hat compact mass of advancing men.
Not one volley alone, though that
worked horrible destruction, hut
another and another, until there was
no longer a living man to fire at.
The smoke drifts slowly away-men
CHI er and yell-we can see the meadow
beyond heaped with dead and dying
men. We advance our line. AS we
20 forward l look for my victim. He
is living on his back, eyes half-shut and
fingers clutching at the grass. He
gasps, draws up his legs and straightens
them out again, and is dead as pass
on. have killed my man! My bullet
alone struck him, tearing that CHASTITY
wound in his breast, and | am entitled
to all the honor. DO swing my cap
and cheer? Do point him out aud ex-
pect to be congratulated? Mol have
no cheers. | feel no elation. l feel
that | murdered him, war or no war,
and that his agonized face will haunt me
through all the years of my life.-De-
trOit Free Press.