september - october - Fort Sill

GUNS ON THE MOUNTAIN
The sun was shooting lances of light through the notch of the pass when
the men fell in. Like the guns, they stood with their eyes fixed on the
mountain top which stood forth in the blaze of the sunrise. One point they
desired reassurance upon. They were not anxious to stay on the mountain at
night when goblins, asuans, devils and ghosts were at large. Satisfied upon
this head, they proceeded to the guns.
The guns suffered themselves to be loaded on the mules and the assault
commenced. The long lava slope, from the pass, had seemed deceptively
smooth. In fact, it was like the skin of an elephant, full of fissures. To the
mountains they may have seemed mere cracks; to the men they were
chasms, deep enough to swallow both men and mules. The men hastened to
get tools and cut notches in the vertical sides. Then they inveigled the
mules into the chasm and, pushing and pulling, got them up the further
side. After doing this, they came to another chasm and did it again.
After a while, the mules could go no higher. The guns were taken off
and the mules departed for the post. The soldiers looked at the mountain.
Then they looked after the mules with envy.
The guns lay prone on the mountainside. When they were separated into
four pieces, their character was less apparent and they lost some of the
pugnacity of their appearance. They became reduced to resembling mere
billets of steel.
The men approached them with a resigned air, carrying long spars of
bamboo. The guns suffered themselves to be lashed to these spars,
whereupon the men raised them to their shoulders. The guns resembled
mandarins, riding with composure in sedan chairs. The caravan started
cheerfully up the slope. After a few steps the soldiers discovered that they
had been deceived in the smoothness of the mountainside. Jagged lava
fragments tripped them up. The dry sparse grass was as slippery as ice.
They no sooner moved than they stumbled and slid about, weaving
uncertainly in the effort to retain their equilibrium.
They continued to oppose their strength to the placid resistance of the
mountain and were quickly strung out in a long line like ants returning
from a foray.
The sun, from his seat in the brass bowl of heaven, scorched their bent
backs. As the day wore on, he increased the fervor with which he grilled
them. The men struggled in the glare.
When they had achieved a few yards, their hearts began to flutter
behind their ribs. With a few more steps, the fluttering changed to a
thumping. Each felt as though he carried a wild animal confined in his
chest and that this animal was bent upon tearing its way out.
"Susmariejosep!", they gasped, and, setting
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