They fought like demons, and as Tom saw them shoot down, hew down, or bayonet the hapless rebels who came within their reach, it seemed to him as though they had lost their humanity, and been transformed into fiends.
As soon as the regiment reached its position, the order was given to fire.
Tom found this a happy relief; and when he had discharged his musket a few times, all thoughts of the horrors of the scene forsook him.

He no longer saw the dead and the dying; he no longer heard the appalling roar of battle.

He had become a part of the scene, instead of an idle spectator.
He was sending the bolt of death into the midst of the enemies of his country.
"Bravo! Good boy, Tom," said old Hapgood, who seemed to be as much at ease as when he had counselled patience and resignation in the quiet of the tent.

"Don't fire too high, Tom." "I've got the idea," replied the soldier boy.

"I begin to feel quite at home." "O, you'll do; and I knew you would from the first." The shouts of victory which had sounded over the field were full of inspiration to the men; but at the moment when the laurels seemed to be resting securely upon our banners, the rebel line moved forward with irresistible fury.