"Steady, boys!" (The old general had on a white cravat; he had been married to a young wife not more than three weeks).

"Go back, general, go back, go back, go back," is cried all along the line.
He passes through the missiles of death unscathed; stood all through that storm of bullets indifferent to their proximity (we were lying down, you know).

The enemy is checked; yonder they fly, whipped and driven from the field.

"Attention! By the right flank, file left, march! Double quick!" and we were double quicking, we knew not whither, but that always meant fight.

We pass over the hill, and through the valley, and there is old Joe pointing toward the tank with his sword.