he sits free
and calm on her carriage.

Her open jaws seemed to draw the coolness of the morning, and the gleaming
surface reflected the first rays of sunshine. I lay down again on the wet
ground, but this time as a precaution I held on to a spoke.

So passed a whole week, my first week after marrying the beautiful eight
pounder: the honeymoon of an artillery sergeant, the happiest week of my
life! I kept busy every moment, in the belief that I had already achieved
the purpose of my existence in world; my soul went completely into the
beloved cannon.

Meanwhile we drew closer and closer to the banks of the Vistula; ice was
already giving way in many places and here and there you could see water
appearing. Our colonel, with a long pole in his hand, was first to go
through the ice, wading in the water up to his knees, then he ordered us
to follow him. Follow him with our cannons over such weak ice? At this
order I went pale as death, because our entire military future could
drown. In the end we passed happily and we stopped on the opposite bank
with the shout: Long live Poland!

That same evening saw the joining of the corps, with the front sent from
Warsaw. They awaited us impatiently; because young soldiers have an
elevated opinion of the power of artillery, and it worried them very much
that on the eve of the expected battle they had no cannons. Having heard
the rattle of cannon wheels, the whole camp lost possession of itself in
joy: "our artillery approaches! Long live the artillery!" they called from
all sides and ran to meet us, and placed us in the centre of the camp.

We also enthusiastically greeted our comrades. Until then marching in
loneliness, now we were in a crowd of brave soldiers, whose number gave
itself significance to the eye. That raised our confidence. Only
altogether there weren't more than twelve squadrons, filling a wide area.
Proudly we looked at a forest of stuck lances, on which new flags sparkled
with colours, still not knowing blood or dust. After a cheerful and grand
supper we lay down to sleep, swung with the sound of military music and
the singing of the mazurka.

At dawn, when our corps entered the village, mixed shouts reached us. We
pulled in; they sent for reconnaissance and it turned out that these were
shouts of victory! The first triumph! You should have seen, how pleased we
were with them. These Cossacks, bearded, disarmed, walked with heads
lowered and with sour expression