Don't cock your muskets, don't fire unless you're told to.

Perhaps you won't have to fire at all.

All I want of you is to keep straight on after me--right through those dry woods, there.
Try to keep your intervals and alignment; don't yell until you sight the enemy, don't lose your heads, trust your officers.

Where they go you are safest." He dropped his eye-glasses into his slashed pocket, drew out and put on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles.

The soldiers saw him smile and say something to Major Lent, saw him bare his handsome sword, saw the buglers setting the shining bugles to their lips.
"Now, _charge_, you red-legged rascals!" shouted Major Lent; and up from the grass rose a wave of scarlet and flashing steel.
Charge! Charge! echoed the bugles; a wailing storm, high among the tree tops, passed over them as they entered the dry woods on a run; branches crashed earthward, twig's and limbs crackled down in whirling confusion.