The Helena independent. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1875-1943, 1892-04-13
KILLING In BATTLE.
~ u . Soldiers Duty, ana How He Feels
When DjsOhnrging II.

~ u . Soldiers Duty, and How He Feels
When DjsohnrRing II.
They do not call II murder when mon
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 fre in
the hope to kill or wound. " Ia your duty.
BATTLES cannot be won without killing. You
load and ~fire--load and 1rs-moye to the
right or left-advan0e or retreat, and when
the battle 10 over you have fred Atty rounds,
and yet you have not had a near sight on
the enemy; You have simply fred At him,
and you cannot vouch that . single ons Of
your bullets found a living target.
Here ID n brigade OF us in battle line
across an old meadow; our right and left
Jein other brigadea. We have thrown the
rail-fence. gathered logs and brush and sod,
and erected a breastwork. II Ia only q
slight one. bnt enough to shelter as when
lying down. A division Of tho enemy
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 halt that mass OF men. The grape
and canister does awful execution, but
there should be q dozen guns instead Of .ix.
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 il fred by a soldier with his eyes
shut. must hit q foe. ! select my mar
while he is vet beyond range. I have eyes
for no other. He is q tall, soidierly fellow,
wearing the stripes Of = sergeant. Az he
as fixedly ut me rs ! ut him. | admire his
GOODNESS. He looks neither to the right
nor to the left. III msn on his right is
hit and goes down, but he does not falter.
| am going to kill that man! i have a rest
for my gun on tho breastwork. and whom
the order comes to fire ] cannot miss him.
He ia living his last minute on earth We
are calmly waiting until our volley shall
prove a veritable flame of death. Now they
close up the gaps. and we can hear the
shouts of their officers AZ they make ready
to charge. Ny man is still opposite me.
one else. ! know the word is coming in a
few seconds more. and I aim ut his chest.
l could nlmost be sure of hitting him with
q stone when we get the word to fire. There
10 a billow of 1ame-a billow of smoka-a
fierce. crash. n 1900 bullets are poured
Not one volley alone, though that worked
horrible destruction, but another n an
other, until there was no longer a living
man to fire at. e
The smoke drifts slowly away-men
cheer and yell-we can see the meadow be-
yond heaped with dead and dying men.
We advance our line. As we go forward I
look for my victim. He is lying on his
back, eyes half shut and fingers clutching
at the grass. He gasps, draws up his legs
and staightens them out again, and is dead
as | pass on. I have killed my man! My
bullet alone struck him, tearing that
chastity wound in his breast, and ! am enti-
tied to all the honor. Do 1 swing my cap
and cheer? Do I point him out and expect
to be congratulated? MOI! have 10
cheers. I feel no citation. i feel that !
murdered him, war or no war, and that his
agonized face will haunt me Though all
the years of my life.-Detroit Free Press.