"Well, then, that other army that I've just been telling you about comes charging on right up to the wall and there's close-in fighting back and forth--hand-to-hand stuff, what I mean--for two or three minutes before the break comes and the gang that is due to be licked decide they've had enough and start retreating. And all this time you're right in the thick of it, shooting first, and then when your gun's empty you club it by the barrel and fight with it that way. Don't be afraid of being too rough, neither. These extras are under orders to go at one another raw, so it'll be more like a battle ought to be. Them that puts the most steam into it will get a finnuf slipped to 'em. They know that, and I wouldn't be surprised but what probably a couple of dozen of 'em should get laid out in earnest; so you needn't feel backward about wading in and doing your share. Just put yourself right into it, that's the idea, and cut loose regardless. I'll be off to one side cueing you through my megaphone which way to go when they first pick you up for the long shots, but after that it's all up to you. Don't think about the camera nor nothing else. Don't look at a camera. Don't look around, even to see where any of the cameras are. But then, seeing you told me yourself only last week about having fought in one of them regular wars, I guess I don't need to tell you how to go to it. It'll all come back to you in less than a minute, I'll bet you.... Now then, come on over here and let me get you set." Herzog's optimistic prediction was justified. In less than a minute it did come back to Captain Teal. The first preliminary crackle of musketry fire brought it back to him with a mighty surge of clamoring, swirling memories. The first whiff of acrid powder smoke in his nostrils, the first sight of those ragged gray uniforms, those dusty blue uniforms, changed the memories into actualities. The weight of sixty years slipped off his shoulders; the rich saps of youth mounted for a little passing time into his pithy marrows, giving swiftness to his rickety legs and strength to his withered arms. It was proof of what an imagination fired by vivid reminders of clanging bygone things could do for an ancient's body. Headlong once more into battle went Captain Teal, and as he did he uttered sundry long-drawn wolfish yells, one yell right behind another, until you would have thought, had you been there to listen, that his throat surely must split itself wide open.