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

A NOCTURNAL MARCH. 143
" Draw in that leg ; don't you see you are sticking it into my
face ? " But it is
only the affair of a moment, and then all are
quiet.
A deep, full sleep takes possession
of each. At first
a quick, heavy breathing
is heard ;
then a feeble, broken sighing
then a
; dull, rattling moaning ; and, finally, a general snoring
in every key, bass, baritone, soprano, harmonious and dissonant,
shrill and sonorous an infernal style of music, in fact.
A blast of the trumpet ; it is the Attention!
In that group no one hears it ;
no one stirs ;
all are quiet and
motionless as dead bodies. Another blast ;
which has no effect ;
" "
all as motionless as before. I '11 make them get up, now !
says a menacing voice above the sleepers. At that voice, behold
a leg is
straightened there, an arm outstretched here, farther on
a head moves more this way, a body writhes, as is the case
when a group of snakes turn slowly in the heat of the sun.
" " Shall we get up or not ? the first voice repeats more angrily
than before. One of the sleepers rises to a sitting posture,
another rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, another feels
around for his cap, a fourth is already on his feet, and a fifth
" "
and a sixth ... all are up : Oh, at last " ! What
misery, what a torment to be waked so roughly, and to be
obliged to get up just when one was beginning to enjoy the
" "
sleep Where ! 's my cap ?" " And my musket " ?