The poor private, a contemptible conscript, was left to howl and gnash his teeth.

The war might as well have ended then and there.
The boys were "hacked," nay, whipped.

They were shorn of the locks of their glory.

They had but one ambition now, and that was to get out of the army in some way or other.

They wanted to join the cavalry or artillery or home guards or pioneer corps or to be "yaller dogs," or anything.
[The average staff officer and courier were always called "yaller dogs," and were regarded as non-combatants and a nuisance, and the average private never let one pass without whistling and calling dogs.