| BOOK TEN: 1812
20. CHAPTER XX
 (continued)"I would go with you but on my honor I'm up to here"- and he pointed
 to his throat. "I'm galloping to the commander of the corps. How do
 matters stand?... You know, Count, there'll be a battle tomorrow.
 Out of an army of a hundred thousand we must expect at least twenty
 thousand wounded, and we haven't stretchers, or bunks, or dressers, or
 doctors enough for six thousand. We have ten thousand carts, but we
 need other things as well- we must manage as best we can!" The strange thought that of the thousands of men, young and old, who
 had stared with merry surprise at his hat (perhaps the very men he had
 noticed), twenty thousand were inevitably doomed to wounds and death
 amazed Pierre. "They may die tomorrow; why are they thinking of anything but
 death?" And by some latent sequence of thought the descent of the
 Mozhaysk hill, the carts with the wounded, the ringing bells, the
 slanting rays of the sun, and the songs of the cavalrymen vividly
 recurred to his mind. "The cavalry ride to battle and meet the wounded and do not for a
 moment think of what awaits them, but pass by, winking at the wounded.
 Yet from among these men twenty thousand are doomed to die, and they
 wonder at my hat! Strange!" thought Pierre, continuing his way to
 Tatarinova. In front of a landowner's house to the left of the road stood
 carriages, wagons, and crowds of orderlies and sentinels. The
 commander in chief was putting up there, but just when Pierre
 arrived he was not in and hardly any of the staff were there- they had
 gone to the church service. Pierre drove on toward Gorki. When he had ascended the hill and reached the little village street,
 he saw for the first time peasant militiamen in their white shirts and
 with crosses on their caps, who, talking and laughing loudly, animated
 and perspiring, were at work on a huge knoll overgrown with grass to
 the right of the road. Some of them were digging, others were wheeling barrowloads of earth
 along planks, while others stood about doing nothing. |