With consciousness return groans and wails; and the dreadful conviction
of their wretched existence opens their lips, and wrings from them
shrieks of pain and despair.
How enviable and blissful sleep the dead whose wounds bleed and ache no
longer! How wretched and pitiable are the living as they lie on the
ground, tortured by the wounds which the howling night wind has dried so
that they bleed no more! Those poor deserted ones in the valley and on
the hills the sun has awakened, and the air resounds with their moans
and cries and despairing groans, and heart-rending entreaties for
relief. But no relief comes to them; no cheerful voice replies to their
wails. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, had been placed in the ambulances,
and, during the sudden panic, the surgeons had left the battle-field
with them. But hundreds, nay thousands, remained behind, and with no one
to succor them!
From among the crowds of wounded and dead lying on the battle-field of
Auerstadt, rose up now an officer, severely injured in the head and arm.
The sun, which had aroused him from the apathetic exhaustion into which
he had sunk from loss of blood and hunger, now warmed his stiffened
limbs, and allayed somewhat the racking pain in his wounded right arm,
and the bleeding gash in his forehead. He tried to extricate himself
from under the carcass of his horse, that pressed heavily on him, and
felt delighted as he succeeded in loosing his foot from the stirrup, and
drawing it from under the steed.
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