Military life in Italy : sketches - Societa italiana di storia militare

H 2
MILITARY LIFE.
A moment more and he will fall into the ditch. A blast of
" " Halt ! He 's
escaped Down it. they all go
the trumpet,
like so many dead bodies ; they fall where they can, on to
stones, among thorns, into the mud, wherever it may happen
to be ; every thing is comfortable, every thing clean, soft, delicious
!
There, on a pile of stones, on one side of the road, an
entire squad has pitched itself down in a heap, one on top or
across the other, just as it
happens the barrel of the ; guns under
the neck, the leather bottle of a comrade under the head,
a corporal's foot in the face, the knapsack of another man
against the hip and the
;
hand, sometimes, in the grass, in something
damp and soft. . . . But what a heap The ! luxury
of sleep is so great, so sweet, and powerful, that one cannot
pay any attention to any thing, but the utter enjoyment and
abandonment of soul and body to it. Oh, the sweetness of the
final gratification of a long and harrassing desire ! A
sense of
languid pleasure and gentle exhaustion steals over the frame.
" Oh, what bliss ! We sleep."
. . .
If a ray of moonlight could fall for a moment on to that
point of the road, what a strange spectacle would greet our
eyes ! It looks like a heap of bodies thrown carelessly down :
some face upward, others face downward, some stretched out,
others doubled up, and here and there arms, legs, feet, and
muskets, which protrude
between the legs and arms of others
still ;
a muddle, in fact, in which it would be difficult to discover
to whom the different members belong. At first, there
is a slight movement, a little struggling
bodies ;
in that mass of human
each one is seeking, quite gently, the most comfortable
position, and this gives rise to a " little squabbling Get over
:
"
there ! Blood of Bacchus " ! Out of the way with that foot "
!