Often circumstances, such as the former location of a camp near the battle-field, previous positions in the reserve line, the existence of rifle-pits, and various other localities which serve as a rallying-point, enable broken troops to re-form and again go into action. Men often rally on the part of an intrenched line which they formerly held; and one of the best uses to which rifle-pits have ever been put by offensive armies is that of forming a rallying-line when attacking troops fail or are broken. It is a use known only to the practice, and is not recognized by the theory of war. Men under thorough discipline lose in a great measure their individuality. A regiment becomes as a single man, moved by a single impulse. The men individually are but fractions, each being able to perform their part of the task only by the aid of the others. These fractions are curious beings under fire. They perform deeds which it would be morally impossible for an individual without similar surroundings to accomplish. Thousands of our veterans will tell you that in going into battle they have never imagined nor felt that they were going to be shot; they have never felt as if in danger themselves, but that their fears are for the comrades with whom they march shoulder to shoulder. They become painfully indifferent in regard to themselves, and appear to have none of those apprehensions with which they were so terrified when they were raw recruits. They swear as usual, with perhaps a little more emphasis, laugh at the comic features which prevail under all circumstances of battle, talk freely and sensibly, and do not betray any more, nor as much excitement as every one has witnessed in crowds at political and other gatherings. I have seen men in the "second line"--the reserves--playing cards while the first were receiving a charge, and the spent shots were dropping in their midst. While the hardest fighting was going on at Chattanooga, November 25th, 1863, I saw three soldiers sitting near the guns of Callender's battery engaged, while under fire, in making entries in their diaries. This is a sight seen only in the ranks of the United States armies. During the battle of Murfreesborough, Tennessee, the rebels, in making a charge upon General Negley's division, frightened from the fields and woods a large number of rabbits, quails, and wild turkeys, driving them toward the Union lines. The birds appeared too frightened to fly, and, following the example of the rabbits, hopped and jumped over the field, escaping from the advancing rebels. They fled, of course, toward the rear, passing through and over our front line, and approached the reserve troops, who, without any reference to the fact that the rebel balls were now falling like great drops of rain among them, laid down their guns and went to capturing wild fowls. While still engaged in this employment, laughable even under the serious circumstances, the first line of our troops was broken, and the rebel soldiers