His mouth was still a little ways open.
He got the one glance at the foe-swarming field in front of him, and instantly ceased to debate the question of his piece being loaded.
Before he was ready to begin--before he had announced to himself that he was about to fight--he threw the obedient, well-balanced rifle into position and fired a first wild shot.

Directly he was working at his weapon like an automatic affair.
He suddenly lost concern for himself, and forgot to look at a menacing fate.

He became not a man but a member.

He felt that something of which he was a part--a regiment, an army, a cause, or a country--was in a crisis.

He was welded into a common personality which was dominated by a single desire.