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

THE SON OF THE REGIMENT. 75
He hesitated a moment, then seized the bread with both
hands, and bit into it with the avidity of a hungry animal.
At that moment we heard the sound of the trumpet, and
put ourselves en route. After a little more than a half hour
Carluccio was overcome with sleep. I took him by the hand
and led him to the rear of the column, where, after exchanging
a few words with the commissary, I had him placed in the
wagon, while he kept saying : " I am not really sleepy.
. .
I am not really sleepy." And off he dropped
into a sound
slumber, murmuring that he did not need any sleep, and that
he wished to march. An hour afterward the regiment stopped
again for some moments. Hardly had the trumpet sounded,
when the soldiers of the last company, who had seen me take
Carluccio to the commissary, ran and gathered
about the
wagon. One of them took the lantern from his musket and
put it at the boy's face, then they all bent over to look at him.
He continued to sleep peacefully, his head resting on a bag of
bread, and his eyes still red, and his cheeks wet with tears.
" What a beautiful little rascal !
" said a soldier, sotto voce.
"
How well he is sleeping ! " murmured another. A third
stretched out his hand and pinched his cheek with two of
his " "
fingers. Down with that hand ! shouted the corporal,
"
and all the others cried out : Leave him alone ! Let him
sleep ! " Carluccio waked at that moment, and seeing himself
surrounded by the soldiers, was a trifle frightened,
instantly reassured and smiled.
" "
Whose son are you ? asked one of the soldiers.
but was
Carluccio hesitated for a moment and then, remembering
my advice, he replied seriously
:
" I am the son of the regiment."
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