assion
so strong that a major-general commanding an army corps would
dismount and act the part of a gunner to a field-piece, apparently
oblivious to the battle raging all along the line of his corps.

PERSONAL FEELING IN BATTLE

Personal feeling in battle is sometimes remarkable, even to the
person himself. In my own experience, the degree of danger was
not often entirely unthought of; and in the comparatively few cases
where it was, the actual danger was much the greatest ever experienced
by me. That such should be the experience of a general in chief
command, under the responsibilities of a great battle, is natural
enough; but that the same should occur when there is little or no
responsibility seems worthy of remark in reference to its apparent
cause. In my first battle,--that of Wilson's Creek,--where I was
a staff officer under a soldier of great experience, ability, and
unsurpassed courage,--General Lyon,--I felt for a long time no
sense of responsibility whatever. I had only to convey his orders
to the troops. Yet the absorption of my mind in the discharge of
this simple duty, and in watching the progress of the battle, was
so complete that I absolutely had no thought whatever of self.
Even after Lyon had been twice wounded, both of our horses killed,
the troops on our left given way in disorder, leaving us standing
in the line, only a few feet to the left of Totten's battery, under
a murderous fire, it did not occur to me that I also might possibly
be hit. I had not even thought for a moment that the commanding
general ought not to be in such an exposed position, or that his
wounds ought to have surgical treatment! My absolute confidence
in my chief left no room in my mind for even such thoughts as those.
It was not until wounds had produced discouragement in the bravest
soul I ever knew that I was aroused to some sense of my own
responsibility as his senior staff officer, and spontaneously said:
"No, general, let us try it again." I was so much absorbed in the
battle itself at that time, and even after Lyon's death, that it
did not occur to me that wounds and death, even of the commanding
general himself, were of any consequence except as they might
influence the progress and final result of the battle. This is
the feeling that must dominate the action of every successful
commander. It is remarkable only because of its early development
in one not th