We all feel, somehow, that our day has come at last — as indeed it has!

SWMODave

Sergeant Major
Thread Medic
Joined
Jul 23, 2017
Location
Southwest Missouri
drummer boy.jpg

It is the morning of July 1st, and we are crossing a bridge over a stream, as the staff-officer, having delivered this order for us, dashes down the line to hurry up the regiments in the rear. We get up on a high range of hills, from which we have a magnificent view. The day is bright, the air is fresh and sweet with the scent of the new-mown hay, and the sun shines out of an almost cloudless sky, and as we gaze away off yonder down the valley to the left —

look! Do you see that? A puff of smoke in mid-air"! Very small, and miles away, as the faint and long-coming " boom" of the exploding shell indicates; but it means that something is going on yonder, away down in the valley, in which, perhaps, we may have a hand before the day is done. See! another —and another!

Faint and far away comes the long-delayed " boom!" " boom!" echoing over the hills, as the staff-officer dashes along the lines with orders to "double-quick! double-quick!" Four miles of almost constant double-quicking is no light work at any time, least of all on such a day as this memorable first day of July, for it is hot and dusty.

But we are in our own State now, boys, and the battle is opening ahead, and it is no time to save breath. On we go, now up a hill, now over a stream, now checking our headlong rush for a moment, for we must breathe a little. But the word comes along the line again," double-quick," and we settle down to it with right good-will, while the cannon ahead seem to be getting nearer and louder.

There's little said in the ranks, for there is little breath for talking, though every man is busy enough thinking.

We all feel, somehow, that our day has come at last — as indeed it has!

Recollections of a Drummer Boy
 
Hard to imagine having that foolish enthusiasm for what was to come.
Not sure if "foolish enthusiasm" is the right word for it.
Is it foolish to be excited to fight for what you believe in, even at the risk of your own life?
A pacifist sure would say "yes". But a veteran?
I can very well imagine how it must feel to be taken away by the sights and sounds that announce a climactic moment.
I will be interested to hear what our members will add to the discussion.
 
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Not sure if "foolish enthusiasm" is the right word for it.
Is it foolish to be excited to fight for what you believe in, even at the risk of your own life?
A pacifict sure would say "yes". But a veteran?
I can very well imagine how it must feel to be taken away by the sights and sounds that announce a climactic moment.
I will be interested to hear what our members will add to the discussion.
I don't call the writer foolish, only the enthusiasm.

I've read a number of diaries and first hand accounts. Early in the war many men seemed eager and excited at the thought of battle, and many were animated by patriotism and, at a certain level, thrilled at the possibility of peril. Later, when they had seen too many of their comrades die, the sounds of the guns and the knowledge of an impending fight was greeted with determination and/or resignation.
 
(Three days later)

And so we get back to our place in the breastworks with sad, heavy hearts, and wonder how we ever could have imagined war so grand and gallant a thing when, after all, it is so horridly wicked and cruel. ....

We were quiet, I remember, very quiet, as we marched off that great field; and not only then, but for days afterwards, as we tramped through the pleasant fields of Maryland. We had little to say, and we all were pretty busily thinking. Where were the boys who, but a week before, had marched with us through those same fragrant fields, blithe as a sunshiny morn in May

And so, as I have told you, when those young ladies and gentlemen came out to the end of that Maryland village to meet and cheer us after the battle, as they had met and cheered us before it, we did not know how heavy-hearted we were until, in response to their song of “Rally round the Flag, Boys!” some one proposed three cheers for them.

But the cheers would not come. Somehow, after the first hurrah, the other two stuck in our throats or died away soundless on the air.

And so we only said, “God bless you, young friends; but we can’t cheer to-day, you see!"

(His chapter "After the Battle" is a tough chapter to read)
 
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