of officers waving swords, and we knew that the fez was the sign of
the Turk--of the enemy--of the men who were invading Thessaly, who
were at that moment planning to come up a steep hill on which we
happened to be sitting and attack the people on top of it. And the
spectacle at once became comprehensible, and took on the human
interest it had lacked. The men seemed to feel this, for they sprang
up and began cheering and shouting, and fired in an upright position,
and by so doing exposed themselves at full length to the fire from
the men below. The Turks in front of the village ran back into it
again, and those in the fields beyond turned and began to move away,
but in that same plodding, aggravating fashion. They moved so
leisurely that there was a pause in the noise along the line, while
the men watched them to make sure that they were really retreating.
And then there was a long cheer, after which they all sat down,
breathing deeply, and wiping the sweat and dust across their faces,
and took long pulls at their canteens.

The different trenches were not all engaged at the same time. They
acted according to the individual judgment of their commanding
officer, but always for the general good. Sometimes the fire of the
enemy would be directed on one particular trench, and it would be
impossible for the men in that trench to rise and reply without
haying their heads carried away; so they would lie hidden, and the
men in the trenches flanking them would act in their behalf, and rake
the enemy from the front and from every side, until the fire on that
trench was silenced, or turned upon some other point. The trenches
stretched for over half a mile in a semicircle, and the little hills
over which they ran lay at so many different angles, and rose to such
different heights, that sometimes the men in one trench fired
directly over the heads of their own men. From many trenches in the