The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1898-04-10
THREE WICHITA SOLDIERS.

THREE WICHITA SOLDIERS.
When Yank Owens was here there we're
.hree men in town who could describe
battles in different ways. Owens, Tony
Bruhen and Lon Holding. Owens de-
scribed a battle in the highest tactical
manner. He might take up the Bridge at
Lodi. for instance and tell how General
6onaparte swung Company de Roche1ort'
.rtillery, No. 10. consisting OF SIX Ten
Founders, five eight-pounders ana 1our
six-pounders, to the right flank, General
Lombard meeting this maneuver, with
charge of infantry. 10000 armed with mus
xets. three rounds of ammunition, covering
their advance by a flank movement Of the
right division There was no powder, no
blood. no cries, no wounded, no dead in
Owens descriptions. Nothing but move
ments guns and their calibres, advances
end retreats and mathema tics
Tony Rruhen's description of battle
deals with the generals overlooking the
field. The French and the Germans are
fgbting teeth and teeth, toe-nal and toe
nail On. an erninence stands General Won
Molkte. At a little way apart stand Bis
rarclz and General Phil Sheridan, who
VAS visiting Germany at the time. Inch
bv inch the French are driving the Ger
mans back. Sheridan says: Count, the
French are pressing you" 81 see" says
bismarck. What do you suppose Won
Aiolkte thinks about it7' asks Sheridan
uervously. IN ask him." says Bismarck
and forthwith rides over to Won Molkte
and asks: What do you Think" Won
Molkte does not turn but says: Bismarck
give ne one of those good cigars" Bis
marck hands over a cigar and goes back
10 Sheridan. Shn with awful force the
French come on, stubbornly beating the
Germans back. Again Sheridan says:
Look Count. What does Won Molkte
lrean?" Pu go and ask him" says Bis
marck, and again goes to Won Mclkte
and says: what do you think, Won
Molkte?" Won Molkte does not turn, but
saws: Bismarck, give me another cigar"
Back, back crowd the Germans Won
Molkter is shading his eyes. His form
straightens In the distance he sees the
delayed Bavarian cuirassiers. Down they
come. riding like death Down they come
horses and men. a raging, roaring torrent.
They are at the French. The French
waver, break, retreat! Won Molkte rides
to where the German emperor stands,
salutes and says: Your majesty, the vic
tory is yours" 81 thank you" says the
emperor.
Lon Holding tells Of war IN a different
way. In his description there are mighty
few guns and mighty few generals. 1t
IS the private Holding thinks about, the
private at either side and under his own
coat. He is standing in a long line, so
long that he can not see either end. The
sun is shining brightly. 1t mocks him
and he keeps his eyes on the ground.
Away down the line he hears a huzza,
family, then stronger, stronger, roaring
10 where he stands, and now past him
His hat is of with the others, mechan-
ically he shouts as General Joe Hooker
with his brandy nose a-shining in the
sun, rides by in the face of the enemy,
his binoculars on the enemy, his hands
held backward waving with his hat en-
courag cement to the men, mis- aides fifty
yards behind him, for the sharpshooters
are picking at Hooker and the bullets
plunge directly behind him and the reti-
nue. must not ride too close, And now an
awful sound comes. a faint child-like cry,
an echo, almost inartiCulate. Louder it
grows, louder and nearer, and at last it
is distinguishable. 1t is forward" He
has started. Are the others with him?
He knows not He is marching-march-
ing into a. he'll Of flame and smoke. There
is a strange voice in the air-about his
ears in his hair, everywhere. 1t is the
b-r-r-r of lead. He is marching. His gun
is gripped until his knucl1les are white.
He is fighting. When did he fire first?
He does not know. He does not look to
see. He is firing. He Is marching. He
stops mechanically. Hoarse voices tell him
that the day is theirs-hisi His sight re-
turns. All about him are the dead. The
men who were at his either side are gone
lie is leaning on the wheel Of a cannon,
a cannon with all its woodwork riddled |
and it's brass barrel dulled with pelting
lead. And his eyes are open, and he sees
men dead and others dying, blowing the |
ground with their heels in their last !
a gony, all about him, wounded horses cry
ing. men leaning on others covered with |
blood, and he staggers from the wheel |
and lifts his eyes to heaven where the |
sun Of a bright May morning is shining |
on all and he mutters: WAR is |
hell"