1 He had evidently gone to sleep with his sword in his arms.
2 They were getting a last draught of sleep before the awakening.
3 The youth in his battle sleep heard this as one who dozes hears.
4 But his regiment went unmolested to a camping place, and its soldiers slept the brave sleep of wearied men.
5 As they went on together the loud private called out after them: "Put 'im t' sleep in my blanket, Simpson."
6 The youth's friend lay down, buried his face in his arms, and almost instantly, it seemed, he was in a deep sleep.
7 The other got carefully erect, and the loud young soldier led him among the sleeping forms lying in groups and rows.
8 He held continuous arguments as to whether he should lie down and sleep at some near spot, or force himself on until he reached a certain haven.
9 He could see the forms of men throwing black shadows in the red light, and as he went nearer it became known to him in some way that the ground was strewn with sleeping men.
10 Occasionally, in this low-arched hall, a soldier would arouse and turn his body to a new position, the experience of his sleep having taught him of uneven and objectionable places upon the ground under him.
11 He had had the belief that real war was a series of death struggles with small time in between for sleep and meals; but since his regiment had come to the field the army had done little but sit still and try to keep warm.