The Black Hills union. [volume] (Rapid City, Pennington County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1889-1904, 1898-07-15

<hilUl SIIClI IHoS IllIiSCllN ~ NolillS
$50, 900, 600 into the presidents hands to
use as he pleased for war purposes, a
thing unprecedented in our history,
they were entitled to better treatment.
| am ashamed of the whole business"
WORSE THINGS THAN BATTLE
He was a Grand Army man, erect of
stature. with Eyes steady and keen
the eyes of a man who has looked the
foe in the face and not quailed when
cannon Numbered and cavalry charg-
ed. His audience was a group Of
young men in a secluded corner Of the
armory, clean, high-strung young
Americans, wearing with much con
seriousness their new soldier suits.
Yes" said the old a war is a
pretty serious business. l shall not
try to discourage you I came here to
see you drill and hear your cheer, be-
cause it is good to realize that you
young fellows are just as eager to go
out and fight for the flag as we were in
1861.
There are many young men who,
when they hear the drum beat and see
the cOlors wave, think it the height of
bliss to march away, rifle on shoulder,
and knapsack on back, with the girls
waving handkerchiefs and kissing their
hands-and it is. There is nothing to
make the heart beat higher, to rouse
a mans spirit, as to march away to
war. It is an experience never to be
forgotten.
I'll never forget my first long march.
1t was a tWelve-hOur forced one, after
we had been in camp for two months,
doing nothing. When the word came
to march we got in line like a lot of
schoolboys. But as the hours went on
my rifle got heavier and heavier, my
uniform grew tighter and tighter and
my feet grew hotter and hotter. The
man next to me began to jog up against
me n throw me out of step. The
tramp, tramp of heavy feet began to
crate on my nerves.
after a few hours of his sort of
thing / got hungry, the hunger passed
away n I became stupid. My knees
shook under me and my feet seemed
heavy and loose and f1abby; still, 1 had
to stumble on, now over rough ground
Uttered with stones and crossed with
ruts, now through dust ankle deep that
filled my eyes as 1 kicked it up.
When the march was ended I DROP
ped to the ground like a dog, aching in
every muscle, along came the sergeant,
who set me to peeling potatoes and
watching the fire. 1 felt like rebelling,
but dared not, and after the meal was
cooked 1 was too far gone to eat of it.
You will have to fight against thirst
the worst thing about service in the
field. Thirst transforms a peaceful
man into a savage. With the SUI hot
enough to fry your skin, the water in
your canteen gone, your eyes and nos
trils filled with dust and your body feel
ing like a mass Of hot earth, you come
pretty nearly experiencing the tortures
of Sheol. / haVe seen men after a long
march jump into a stagnant pool and
drink the liquid filth until they were
kicked out.
What about the fighting? Well, there
is something a great deal worse than
the fighting, and hat is the wait for
the fighting to begin. Often soldiers
wait days and days for the fray, hop
ing every morning to take a fling at the
enemy before night. The delay is ter.
rible. They get sick at heart longing
In our civil war I have seen men get
almost mutinous after waiting a week
inactive, simply owing to the tremen-
dous nerve strain.
The sound of a bugle calling men
to battle is a joy, and the men bound
as they march out to take part in a
stand-up, dare all fight. Many men
who have been through the mill will tell
you they never knew what life WIS until
lIlCy SlOoO 1dCc " 1dCS Will IN CAC1ly
and heard the boom Of cannon over the
battlefield.
II don't think many men feel afraid
There is no time. You just feel it is
the grandest day of your life, and you
don't want to eve do anything but
stand and blaze away at the enemy or
dash in a mad charge owe the field m
hill to throw yourself against the OPP
posing ranks n send the foe flying.
You hear the great guns laundering in
the distance, and you hear the scream
of shells and the zip of bullets, and
you just fire away until your fingers
ache.
The charge Is the grand thing in
battle. You dash into the thick of the
foe, yelling like a maniac. There isn't
anything better in the world than that
helter-skelter rush, the shove of the
bayonet or the club Of the rifle Lutt as
you tear into the enemy's ranks, rush.
ing over the dead and dying and driv-
ing the other fellows before you. It's
awful, but it's splendid. If a soldier
could fight all the time, he would ask
for nothing else"
Will She be Pleased.
I came upon an attache of the Chi
nese legation the other day, in a pho
tographer's shop, says the Washington
Post He was huvinr all tho DhOto-