The Durham daily globe. (Durham, N.C.) 1889-1894, 1894-06-02
THE GUNS.
How Brave Men Have Met Their Fate on
the Battlefield.

earthworks will an abdtis in front and ar
tillery posted at intervals, a charge means
that about every fifth man will be killed
or wounded. Those who escape the shells,
bullets, grapcshot and canister will al
ways regard it in the light Of a miracle
In a charge of cavalry against cavalry the
dash of it carries one along without
thought. 1t is an infantry charge against
field guns which have got warmed up TO
their work that calls for every iota of
pluck in Il soldiers makeup.
Here on the north bank of the shallow
creek we have thrown up q breastwork of
rails, logs, bushes, stones and dirt to cover
the brigade front. A boy could jump it 1T
any spot, but when the enemy breaks out
of the woods over there and advance
across the old pasture our defense will save
800 lives.
We have a strong position, and the en-
envy knows it. Before sending a body Of
infantry UP against us he will batter away
with artillery and at least make gaps in
our defense. Our guns are blazing away
to the right and left of us. but we nave
none on our front. The ground is too low
for effective work. We arc waiting, wait
ing, waiting, every man ready, but only a
little diminishing on our front. OF Il sud
den 500 men spring to their foct with cX-
CARNATIONS of anger and disgust. We can
see q battery COMING into action on the
high ground half mile away and infantry
moving out to support it. One, three,
six guns gallCp up with the horses under
the lash, unlimber and load, and within 90
seconds the first shell comes screaming over
our heads, flying not moro than six feet
too high. Bang! bang! bang! go the
other guns, one after another, and after
three or four shots apiece they get their
distance and time their fuses, and we are
under Il plunging fire. Solid shot would
tear through the breastwOrk and wound
and kill, but the casualties would be few.
The scream of a shell skaters the nerves.
1t may not hit any one lis it strikes, but
its explosion may MAIN and Kill q dozen.
An aid d&shGs to, the rear; u battery
comes g2l11JPPiiffIg up; shouts Of disappoint-
ment run up and down the line. 1t would
be folly for our battery to unlimbCr here
on tie low ground. That plunging fire
would dismount every gun in 40 minutes.
1t hurrieS off to the left, looking for Il bet
ter site, and down the line comes the order
for the Fifth 30 make ready for a charge.
There are $50 men Of us. The enemy prob
ably has that number lying down behind
the guns. We don't figure on them, how
ever, but on the six fieldpieces. We shall
be under their fire the minute we stand
up. There is half a mile Of ground to be
traversed. They will cut the fuses short
and use shell Oh us for the first quarter of
q mile. Then Will come grape and can
lister, and a little later they will double
shot the guns The ping of Ii bullet is not
a pleasant sound, but the wailing of grape
and the spitcful hiss of canister bring a
chill. You remember to have seen men
on the field killed by these missiles, and
you recall the hjGcOuS nature Of the fatal
wounds.
We seem to wait for d lull in the fir
ing, but it does not come. Men cannot
be held here inactive 10 minutes longer.
Death and wounds follow the bursting of
every shell. and those untouched are fierce
ly demanding TO know if we are to be sac
riflced without firing a shot in reply. Its
death to charge those Guns-death to re-
main lying on our faces behind the breast
work. Here we go! Every man in the
old Fifth leaps to his feet and vaults over
the breastwork and falls into double line
on the other side. We instinctivcly dress
to the right, come to a 'front.' and move
forward. Every one of the six guns IS inn
mcdiatcly turned upon us, and we break
from common time to "quick time
without orders.
An l afraid? Yes and no. \ shell is a
murderous missile, but l am not in direct
range Of any one Of the guns. 1t is the
grape and canister l dread. We are
sweeping forward like a wave rolling in
upon the beach, but it seems to me that
we only crawl. Everybody is crying out:
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