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ped short in uncertainty whether to go back or forward。 Suddenly a fearful shock sent him flying backwards on to the ground。 At the same instant a flash of flame dazed his eyes； and a roar； a hiss； and a crash set his ears ringing。
When he recovered his senses； Pierre found himself sitting on the ground leaning on his hands。 The ammunition…box； near which he had been； had gone； there were a few charred green boards and rags lying scattered about on the scorched grass。 A horse was galloping away with broken fragments of the shafts clattering after it； while another horse lay； like Pierre； on the ground； uttering a prolonged； piercing scream。
Chapter 32
PIERRE； beside himself with terror； jumped up and ran back to the battery as the one refuge from the horrors encompassing him。
Just as Pierre ran up to the redoubt； he noticed that there was no sound of firing from the battery； but that there were men there doing something or other。 He had not time to make out what men they were。 He caught sight of the senior officer lying with his back towards him on the earth wall； as though gazing intently at something below； and he noticed one soldier； who； tearing himself away from the men who were holding him； shouted “Mates！” and he saw something else that was strange。
But before he had time to grasp that the colonel had been killed； that the soldier shouting “Mates！” was a prisoner； another soldier was stabbed in the back by a bayonet before his eyes。 He had hardly run up into the redoubt when a thin man with a yellow； perspiring face； in a blue uniform； ran up to him with a sword in his hand； shouting something。 Pierre； instinctively defending himself； as they came full tilt against each other； put out his hands and clutched the man （it was a French officer） by the shoulder and the throat。 The officer； dropping his sword； seized Pierre by the collar。
For several seconds both gazed with frightened eyes at each other’s unfamiliar…looking faces； and both were bewildered； not knowing what they were doing or what they were to do。 “Am I taken prisoner or am I taking him prisoner？” each of them was wondering。 But the French officer was undoubtedly more disposed to believe he was taken prisoner； because Pierre’s powerful hand； moved by instinctive terror； was tightening its grip on his throat。 The Frenchman tried to speak； when suddenly a cannon ball flew with a fearful whiz close over their heads； and it seemed to Pierre that the Frenchman’s head had been carried off by it； so swiftly had he ducked it。
Pierre； too； ducked and let go with his hands。 Giving no more thought to the question which was taken prisoner； the Frenchman ran back to the battery； while Pierre dashed downhill； stumbling over the dead and wounded； who seemed to him to be clutching at his feet。
But before he had reached the bottom he was met by dense crowds of Russian soldiers； who； stumbling against each other and tripping up； were running in wild merriment towards the battery。 （This was the attack of which Yermolov claimed the credit； declaring that it was only his valour and good luck that made this feat of arms possible； it was the attack in which he is supposed to have strewn the redoubt with the St。 George’s crosses that were in his pocket。）
The French； who had captured the battery； fled。 Our soldiers pursued them so far beyond the battery that they were with difficulty stopped。 They were bringing the prisoners down from the battery； among them a wounded French general； surrounded by officers。 Crowds of wounded； both French and Russians—among them men Pierre recognised—walked； or crawled； or were borne on stretchers from the battery； their faces distorted by suffering。
Pierre went up into the battery； where he had spent over an hour； and found no one left of that little fraternal group that had accepted him as one of themselves。 There were many dead there； whom he had not seen before。 But several he recognised。 The boy…officer was still sitting huddled up in a pool of blood at the edge of the earth wall。 The red…faced； merry soldier was still twitching convulsively； but they did not carry him away。
Pierre ran down the slope。
“Oh； now they will stop it； now they will be horrified at what they have done！” thought Pierre； aimlessly following the crowds of stretchers moving off the battlefield。
But the sun still stood high behind the veil of smoke； and in front； and even more so to the left； about Semyonovskoye； there was still a turmoil seething in the smoke； and the roar of cannon and musketry； far from slackening； grew louder and more desperate； like a man putting all his force into one deafening outcry as a last despairing effort。
Chapter 33
THE CHIEF ACTION of the battle of Borodino was fought on the space seven thousand feet in width between Borodino and Bagration’s flèches。 Outside that region； on one side there was the action on the part of Uvarov’s cavalry in the middle of the day； on the other side； behind Utitsa； there was the skirmish between Poniatovsky and Tutchkov； but those two actions were detached and of little importance in comparison with what took place in the centre of the battlefield。 The chief action of the day was fought in the simplest and the most artless fashion on the open space； visible from both sides； between Borodino and the flèches by the copse。
The battle began with a cannonade from several hundreds of guns on both sides。 Then； when the whole plain was covered with smoke； on the French side the two divisions of Desaix and Compans advanced on the right upon the flèches； and on the left the viceroy’s regiments advanced upon Borodino。 The flèches were a verst from the Shevardino redoubt； where Napoleon was standing； but Borodino was more than two versts further； in a straight line； and therefore Napoleon could not see what was passing there； especially as the smoke； mingling with the fog； completely hid the whole of that part of the plain。 The soldiers of Desaix’s division； advancing upon the flèches； were in sight till they disappeared from view in the hollow that lay between them and the flèches。 As soon as they dropped down into the hollow； the smoke of the cannon and muskets on the flèches became so thick that it concealed the whole slope of that side of the hollow。 Through the smoke could be caught glimpses of something black； probably men； and sometimes the gleam of bayonets。 But whether they were stationary or moving； whether they were French or Russian； could not be seen from Shevardino。
The sun had risen brightly； and its slanting rays shone straight in Napoleon’s face as he looked from under his hand towards the flèches。 The smoke hung over the flèches； and at one moment it seemed as though it were the smoke that was moving； at the next； the troops moving in the smoke。 Sometimes cries could be heard through the firing； but it was impossible to tell what was being done there。
Napoleon； standing on the redoubt； was looking through a field…glass； and in the tiny circle of the glass saw smoke and men； sometimes his own； sometimes Russians。 But where what he had seen was； he could not tell when he looked again with the naked eye。
He came down from the redoubt； and began walking up and dow