nd come with a more hissing sound. It struck the man square in the
breast, then reeling out of ranks he made a few strides towards where
I was marching, his pocket-book in hand, and fell dead at my feet
without a word or groan. He was the only man killed during the day in
the brigade, and not even then on the firing line. Of course all will
say these are only "coincidences," but be what they may, I give them
as facts coming under my own eyes, and facts of the same nature came
to the knowledge of hundreds and thousands of soldiers during every
campaign, which none endeavor to explain, other than the facts
themselves. But as the soldier is nothing more than a small fraction
of the whole of a great machine, so much happens that he cannot fathom
nor explain, that it naturally makes a great number of soldiers,
like the sailor, somewhat superstitious. But when we speak of moral
courage, where is there a courage more sublime than the soldier
marching, as he thinks, to his certain death, while all his comrades
are taking their chances at the hazard of war?

There are many unaccountable incidents and coincidents in a soldier's
experience. Then, again, how differently men enter battle and how
differently they act when wounded. Some men, on the eve of battle, the
most trying time in a soldier's life, will stand calm and impassive,
awaiting the command, "forward," while his next neighbor will tremble
and shake, as with a great chill, praying, meditating, and almost in
despair, awaiting the orders to advance. Then when in the heat of the
conflict both men seem metamorphosed. The former, almost frightened
out of his wits, loses his head and is just as apt to fire backwards
as forwards; while the latter seems to have lost all fear, reckless
of his life, and fights like a hero. I have known men who at home were
perfect cowards, whom a schoolboy could run away with a walking cane,
become fearless and brave as lions in battle; while on the other
hand men who were called "game cocks" at home and great "crossroads
bullies," were abject cowards in battle. As to being wounded, some men
will look on a mortal wound, feel his life ebbing away, perfectly calm
and without concern, and give his dying messages with the composure
of an every day occurrence; while others, if the tip of the finger is
touched, or his shin-bone grazed, will "yell like a hyena or holler
like a loon," and raise such a rumpus as to alarm the whole army. I
saw a man running