Briggs: A wattle wall is brought in to shield the fire.
Pevear and Volokhonsky (chapters 7-9): Life in a Russian infantry camp at Krasnoe. Captain Ramballe and his orderly Morel are brought in. Morel teaches the Russians a French song.
Translation:
VII.
On the 8th of November, on the last day of the Krasnensky battle, it now was getting dark when the troops came to the place of overnight stay. All day it was quiet, frosty, with falling easier, rare snow; in the evening it began to be found. Through the snowflakes could be seen the dark purple starry sky, and the frost began to intensify.
The musketeer regiment, exiting from Tarutin at a number of 3000, now, at a number of 900 persons, came by one of the first appointed places of overnight stay, in a village on a big road. The lodgers who met the regiment declared that all the huts were busy with sick and dead French, cavalrymen and staff. There was only one hut for the regimental commander.
The regimental commander drove to their hut. The regiment passed the village and at the extreme huts on the road put the guns in the box.
As a huge, polynomial animal, the regiment began behind the work of arranging their lairs and food. One part of the soldiers dispersed, by knees in the snow, in the birch forest, arriving to the right from the village, and immediately again was heard on the wood the knock of axes, knives, the crackle of breaking branches and funny voices; another part fiddling around about the center of the regimental wagon and horses, supplies in bunches, getting boilers, crackers, and assigning food to horses; the third part crumbled in the village, the premises of the staff, choosing the dead bodies of the French, lying by the huts, and pulling apart boards, dry firewood and straw from rooftops for bonfires and wicker for defense.
Fifteen soldiers behind the huts, from the edges of the village, with fun screaming swung a tall wicker barn, from which taken off already was the roof.
— Well, well, at once, light up! — shouted a voice, and in the dark night swung with a frosty bang a huge powdered snow canvas of wicker. More often and more often cracked lower stakes, and finally the wicker collapsed together with the soldiers, pressing on them. Was heard a loud rough-joyous shout and laughter.
— Take by-two! Lever serve here! Here is that. What climbs that?
— Well, at once... and stop, guys!.. With a scream!
All fell silent and quiet, a velvety-agreeable voice sang a song. At the end of the third stanza, in time with the end of the last sound, twenty friendly voices screamed: "Oooooooo! It is going! At once! Nailed, children!.." but despite the friendly efforts, the wicker a little set off and in the established silence, was heard a heavy coughing.
— Hey you, sixth company! Hell, devils! Help...We also come in handy.
Twenty people of the sixth company, marching in the village, joined to the dragging; and the wicker, at a length of five sazhen and a sazhen in width, bending over, pushing and cutting the shoulders of the puffing soldiers, moved forward by the street of the village.
— Whether that goes... What falls...What has come? That...
Funny, ugly swear words did not fall silent.
— You. What? — suddenly was heard the bossy voice of a soldier who came running to the bearing.
— The gentleman is here; in the hut is the ganaral himself, but you, hell, devils, use foul language. You! — shouted the sergeant major and with a scope stroked on the back of the first turned up soldier. — Can’t you be quiet?
The soldiers fell silent. The soldier who was stroked by the sergeant major, began to groan and wipe his face, which was torn in blood, stumbling upon the wicker.
— You see, damn it, how we fight! Ah all the faces uncovered, — he said in a timid whisper, when walked away the sergeant major.
— Not love? — said the laughing voice; and, tempering the sounds of the voices, the soldiers went farther. Getting out behind the village, they again began talking so the same loudly, pouring conversation with those same aimless curses.
In the hut, by which passed the soldiers, gathered the higher superiors, and behind tea was walking a lively conversation about the past and alleged maneuvers of the future. It was alleged to do a flank march to the left, cut off the vice-king and to seize him.
When the soldiers dragged the wicker, now from different parties flared up the fires of the kitchens. Cracked firewood, thawed snow, and the black shadows of the soldiers here and there scurried about by all the busy, trampled in the snow, space.
Axes and knives worked with all parties. All was done without any orders. Was dragged along firewood about the supply night, shielded the huts of the chief, cooked kettle, coped the guns and ammunition.
The dragging wicker eighth company delivered a semicircle with the parties of the north, propped up a plow and before it a decomposed bonfire. It struck dawn, calculations were done, supper was had and settling down for the night at bonfires, — some mended footwear, some smoked a pipe, some to the nude undressed, cleaning of lice.
Locations: Krasnoe
Mentioned: Tarutino, French
Pevear and Volokhonsky Notes: We follow a regiment and a regimental commander as they are in the village, looking for supplies and lodging. They then begin to set up a wattle wall, which falls, causing one to be hit by another one. There is a lot of emphasis on the cursing, particularly the merry aspect of it.
Characters (characters who do not appear, but are mentioned are placed in italics. First appearances are in Bold. First mentions are underlined. Final appearance denoted by *):
The regimental commander (no reason to think that this is any previous regimental commander.)
The sergeant
The first soldier (who gets struck by the sergeant)
Murat ("the viceroy")
Abridged Versions: No break in Bell.
Gibian: line break instead of chapter break.
Fuller: Entire chapter is cut.
Komroff: Entire chapter is cut.
Kropotkin: Entire chapter is cut.
Simmons: Chapter is preserved. End of Chapter 3.
Additional Notes:
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