The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1903-11-12
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toWtuk bBANhssN
In blue"
speak,ng Of the fighting business.
don't presume that the nation appre.
ciates what n magnificent reserve OF
seasoned troops It still has In you
savage old fighters who won out In
the bigge-, war that ever deluged the
earth with the blood OF the sons OF
men. why, say. old fellows. reckon
tha, II there we're to be trouble. Inter
nal or external. there Is about 1000"
600 of You vets of the sixties who
couldn't be kept out Of the ranks With
a regiment of Hotchkiss rifles.
And. say, boys, I would love to see
you fight again. Not for the sake of
killing, but Just to note with what
ease and celebrity you are still ut for
business. know that there are
mighty big gaps In the old lines that
swung around the points at Missionary
Ridge. that raised Ned at Port Hud.
son and that ripped the living day
lights out of the esteemed enemy on
many another bloody field. but Tor
nil that this bird of the broad and
sweeping wing would stake his last
pin leather on your prowesJ ana
audacity in the face OF any old enemy
that ever marched down pike or
took a side cut through the woods.
You remember the way II was done,
boys-skirmish lines out alonS the
tanks skulaing through the brush.
and the bullets from the guns OF the
Johnnies tipping around. careless and
free. in the trees overhead. Pretty
soon there was the boom OF six
pounder, and n shot came sailing, lazy
like over the marching column ana
giving a fellow goose pimples all
over him. Then II was halt and lie
down and hear the guns begin to thun'
der as II hell had broken loose and
pitch enough hot to roast all creation.
Next thing an orderly riding like a
tornado down your wny. sudden
command to got ont OF that and move
by the left flank to position on the
left of the 'Steenth Minnesota. the
Eleventh Michigan. or some other old
regiment. And there you are-all
standing up to be shot at and nothing
doing by you fellows. That was the
job-that standing still--tbat made a
fellow yearn for home and mother, rs
many Of you old chaps who are out
here In California In this good old
summertime can swear to.
But no regiment was ever left under
fire for more than week withou. be.
ing given some sort Of an order. al
though II may have seemed like a
month Of Sundays at the time. but
when you did go II was with a whoop
and a rush and yell that set the
wild echoes flying. II you hear me
scream.
Charge! You know what that meant
boys. A rush. double quick over the
fences and through the corn.
Charge! A swirl Of blue and a gilt
ter and clash Of guns.
Charge! A dash down tho slope
through the ravine. up the slope and
over the ridge. and there they are.
those Johnnles, peppering away In the
face Of you as II they were merely pot
ting at rabbits.
Then here comes Bouton's, or somo
ether old battery. making tho darndcst
clatter that ever murdered sleep
Horses on the dead run; caIssons and
guns jumping ton feet high at every
jump; gunners hanging on and grltting
their teeth: the men on the mounts
laying IN the whip and shouting Ian.
guage at the sli,irrying steedI that
wasn't learned from prayer books;
swords flashing; musketry firing on
the right and getting hotter every min
ute: and halt!
The guns are whirled into position
on tho top OF the ridge. unllmbered
quicker than | can tell Il, and then.
Iordy, how they do begin to sing! Do
you remember the tunes those Old
guns sang. boys. when tho tight was
just u, c'y enough and not too lively?
Course you do--the mad music OF tho
fight. the rip.roarlng chorus of car.
mage. the Wagnerian orchestra OF ar.
tillery-that was great and glorious
music ! don't care what they may say
about the derlorableness of war.
But it's nll over now. old lads. Tho
guns are cooled Off and the gunners
In their Jackets braided with red have
gone To sleep by the tens of thousands
under the pathetic little mounds like
those out yonder In Rosedale. Some Of
them were laid away not far from
where the guns belched fire that day.
Some of them went to the hospitals
aud then went home and limped
through fifteen or twenty years OF life
only to go into permanent quarters at
last In the barracks that have no win.
dows.
And there are n few OF you still left.
glory be. II is you that the Eagle again
salutcs before you go away over the
far mountains that are purple In the
twilight that n setting about you all
Tho mad old nghting days are over.
but the memory OF your splendid deeds
Is mighty blessed memory TO this old
bird. VINO sat above the colors when
the fight was hot. which his name
II is THE EAGLE.
Aneedetes OF Gen. rurehin,