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

A MIDSUMMER MARCH. 5
companies get mixed. " To your place, to your place Is
!
that the way to march " ? . . . No one pays any attention
;
we might as well preach to stone walls. " Ho, there
why do "
you stop ? Forward, courage." Lieutenant, I cannot
go another step." "It's nothing, nothing, rouse yourself,
"
forward." . . . It 's useless, he is
already sleeping. Close
up there. Courage. There is
only a short distance now."
"
Ah, yes, only a little
way That ! 's what they always
say, but meantime we don't come to a halt,
and the soup this
morning was water, and they have n't given the loan yet.
With such a sun they might have allowed us to start
earlier. We don't halt at all, and the broth, and the loan "
" Make way there !" "What is it? Who is
coming?" There is
the mad dashing by of a horse, a cloud of dust,
he has passed.
It was a staff-officer.
"
Yes, here is one of the people who make us run. It is
quite easy for him on horseback to shout out forward to us on
foot ! If he had the knapsack Oh, ho, lift up those
feet of yours ;
is n't there enough dust already ? "
Many stop ; many, slackening their pace, let their own company
pass on in order to stop unseen. The voices of their superior
officers sound more irritable than authoritative. The
orders come more and more rarely. The commander of the
first battalion Where is the commander of the first battalion
?
Ah, you can easily see that the regiment
marching for five hours !
" Hullo
"
! what 's this ?
has been
The blast of a trumpet
is heard. A
prolonged oh! resounds from one end of the column to the
other.
All halt, and then begins a confusion, a hurly-burly, a