skirmishers who were running hither and thither - Stephen Crane

When it came night, the white waves paced to and fro in the moonlight, and the wind brought the sound of the great sea's voice to the men on shore, and they felt that they could then be interpreters.

Many a man ought to have a bath-tub larger than the boat which here rode upon the sea.

These men were born to drill and die.
Point for them the virtue of the slaughter,
Make plain to them the excellence of killing
And a field where a thousand corpses lie.