Wearing the blue in the Twenty-fifth Mass volunteer infantry with Burnside's coast division, 18th army corps, and Army of the James . l persistency. The colors in thefirst line fall, but are again gathered up. Belger sights his right gunhimself and a great puff rolls out — men in the advancing line throwup their hands, while headless and mangled men are rolled together ahorrid snarl of mutilated humanity. The firing was repeated andgroups of grey disappeared, but the gaps were filled and the linestruggled on. The brow of the little hill was all aglow with smoke-drifts rolled in but i
Wearing the blue in the Twenty-fifth Mass volunteer infantry with Burnside's coast division, 18th army corps, and Army of the James . l persistency. The colors in thefirst line fall, but are again gathered up. Belger sights his right gunhimself and a great puff rolls out — men in the advancing line throwup their hands, while headless and mangled men are rolled together ahorrid snarl of mutilated humanity. The firing was repeated andgroups of grey disappeared, but the gaps were filled and the linestruggled on. The brow of the little hill was all aglow with smoke-drifts rolled in but in a moment faded away, revealing thelong line nearer than ever. Steady there ! Dont fire too fast! Make every shot tell! shouted Belger. His orderly sergeantlimped to our ranks smartly stung by a passing shot, but after rub-bing his leg a moment, thought he was not much hurt, and went back. Give em grape double shotted ! rings out from the battery. Allout! the disheartening response. Give em schrapnel! Notanother round left, Captain! Give em shell then ! cried thechief, which we knew very well was the last resort. We strained. Lieut. James ONeill. Beliotype Printing Cu Cotton. WEARING THE BLUE. 161 our eyes into the cloud of smoke, expecting every moment to see theenemy sweep over the guns. Further in front, Belger saw more thanwe could see. Wrought up to the highest pitch of excitement at thethought that his guns were in danger, the impetuous artillerymanspurred his steed out of those foggy folds, and, pointing to his pieces,cried in the agony of the moment, as he turned to the men of theTwenty-fifth Massachusetts: Boys! dont let them have thoseguns! We must have looked our answer, for back he went, andwas again lost to sight. On our right front the battery horsesmoaned in terror, and in pain, tossing their heads as the fierce rain oflead and iron tore through their flesh and furrowed the earth beneaththeir feet. From one of the enemys field pieces, aimed at our colors kepts
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookidwearingbluei, bookyear1879
