If you are used up, it wouldn't be any disgrace for you to go to the rear.

After what you've done, nobody will say a word.
Don't kill yourself, Tom, but go to the rear." "I go to the rear!" exclaimed Tom, with indignation.
"If you are disabled, I mean, of course," apologized the veteran.
"I'm not disabled.

If I go to the rear with these socks on, it won't be till after the breath has left my body." "Socks!" replied Hapgood, with a sneer.

"I'm afeared that gal will be the death of you." "I don't sulk in these socks," replied Tom, with a faint smile, as the regiment moved off on the double quick to some new position of peril.
"The rebels are flanking us!" shouted an officer in another command, as our regiment hurried forward to the endangered point.
"That's what we are wanted for," said Hapgood.
The enemy had nearly accomplished their purpose when our gallant colonel and his jaded force reached the left of the line, and in a few moments more would have poured a flanking fire into our devoted battalions, which were struggling with terrible energy to roll back the pressure in front of them.
The colonel had his men well in hand, and he manoeuvred them with consummate skill, so as to bring them advantageously to the work they were to perform.

The regiment was hurled against the head of the flanking column, and the boys rushed forward with that dash and spirit which had characterized their conduct half a score of times before in various parts of the field.
Tom's muscles had become loose and soft after the long continued strain upon them, and if his soul had not been ten times as big as his body, he must have sunk under the exhaustion of the day.