7 Fighting, at Last

CHAPTER 7 Fighting, at Last Henry worked quickly and a burning roar filled his ears. Once the roar passed, he felt a red rage, like that of a cornered and driven beast. He fought frantically. The men around him were all making strange noises. No one was in a heroic pose—they were too busy loading, firing, and reloading their rifles. The officers stood behind the men and encouraged them. The lieutenant in Henry's company came across a soldier who had run when the firing began. He quickly grabbed

the man by the collar and forced him to return to the front line. The soldier went, but it was clear that his heart was not in the fight. He tried to reload his gun, but his hands shook too much and the lieutenant had to help him. The men dropped here and there like bundles. The captain of Henry's company had been killed in an early part of the action. His body lay stretched out like a man resting, but his face had a surprised and sorrowful look, as if he had been killed not by the enemy, but by a friend. A man who was crying near Henry had been grazed by a shot that made blood stream down his face. At last a yell went along the line and the firing died down. As the smoke cleared, Henry saw that the men in gray had been pushed back. The enemy was scattered in groups. Some in his troop began to shout. Many were silent. As the fever left him,

Henry thought he was going to choke. He was dirty and dripping with sweat. He took a long, cold drink from his canteen. "We've held them back!" someone yelled. Henry was joyous. Around him lay many bodies, as if they had fallen from the sky. Henry saw battles going on in the distance and was surprised to realize that he hadn't been in the center of the only battle. As he looked around, Henry noticed the blue sky and the sun shining on the trees and fields. It was amazing to him that nature had gone on in the middle of so much war.