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

THAT DAY, 199
is to be seen ;
another explosion ;
other whistles ; forward,
forward . . . Halt ! The trumpet has sounded the halt.
Where are we ? Where is the enemy What ? are they doing ?
Oh, what smoke ! The battalion is all scattered. Here is a
house ! It seems as if
they were firing from that house.
'
Charge with the '
bayonet we hear ! confusedly in the
midst of the musket-firing ;
the battalion dashes forward ;
where are we going
? how do we get there ? There is
nothing
to be seen. Oh ! here is a door enter ; quickly with lowered
bayonets a court
; yard, the enemy, a flag ; courage, on to
them. Around the flag is a bulwark of breasts, bristling with
motionless bayonets. The first, overcome, fall on to the
others, firm as a column the furious assault
; stops, and
then begins a precipitous shower of blows that we hear
but cannot see the ; bayonets cross and strike, resounding
sharply the broken muskets crack
; ;
there are horrible shouts
stifled by suffocation, and broken groans that follow the force
of the blows ;
the weapons are straightened, the crowd thickens,
the combatants dash at each other, form groups, jammed together,
face to face. The soldiers seize the bayonets, take
each other by the throat, cross legs and arms, seize and break
away from each other, fall, rise pale and breathless, with teeth
set, and bare and bleeding heads. One feels the heated breath
of the other in his face at ; every moment a face becomes pale
and a head falls back with distorted eyes ;
the ground
is covered
with the fallen the ; group
around the banner has became thinner
;
the standard-bearer has been hit in the breast by a bayonet.
'
Your turn,' shouts a dying voice another has seized the
;
flag.
Meanwhile they are fighting all over the house. We hear
cries of distress from all the rooms. The floors tremble under