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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- Стр. 85/264
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"
No
,
"
said
the
old
man
,
deep
under
.
"
I
don
’
t
remember
anyone
winning
anywhere
any
time
.
War
’
s
never
a
winning
thing
,
Charlie
.
You
just
lose
all
the
time
,
and
the
one
who
loses
last
asks
for
terms
.
All
I
remember
is
a
lot
of
losing
and
sadness
and
nothing
good
but
the
end
of
it
.
The
end
of
it
,
Charles
,
that
was
a
winning
all
to
itself
,
having
nothing
to
do
with
guns
.
But
I
don
’
t
suppose
that
’
s
the
kind
of
victory
you
boys
mean
for
me
to
talk
on
.
"
"
Antietam
,
"
said
John
Huff
.
"
Ask
about
Antietam
.
"
"
I
was
there
.
"
The
boys
’
eyes
grew
bright
.
"
Bull
Run
,
ask
him
Bull
Run
.
.
.
"
"
I
was
there
.
"
Softly
.
"
What
about
Shiloh
?
"
"
There
’
s
never
been
a
year
in
my
life
I
haven
’
t
thought
,
what
a
lovely
name
and
what
a
shame
to
see
it
only
on
battle
records
.
"
"
Shiloh
,
then
.
Fort
Sumter
?
"
"
I
saw
the
first
puffs
of
powder
smoke
.
"
A
dreaming
voice
.
"
So
many
things
come
back
,
oh
,
so
many
things
.
T
remember
songs
.
‘
AU
’
s
quiet
along
the
Potomac
tonight
,
where
the
soldiers
lie
peacefully
dreaming
;
their
tents
in
the
rays
of
the
clear
autumn
moon
,
or
the
light
of
the
watchfire
,
are
gleaming
.
Remember
,
remember
.
.
.
‘
AU
quiet
along
the
Potomac
tonight
;
no
sound
save
the
rush
of
the
river
;
while
soft
falls
the
dew
on
the
face
of
the
dead
—
the
picket
’
s
off
duty
forever
!
’
.
.
.
After
the
surrender
,
Mr
.
Lincoln
,
on
the
White
House
balcony
asked
the
band
to
play
,
‘
Look
away
,
look
away
,
look
away
,
Dixie
land
.
’
.
.
.
And
then
there
was
the
Boston
lady
who
one
night
wrote
a
song
will
last
a
thousand
years
:
‘
Mine
eyes
have
seen
the
glory
of
the
coming
of
the
Lord
;
He
is
trampling
out
the
vintage
where
the
grapes
of
wrath
are
stored
.
Late
nights
I
feel
my
mouth
move
singing
back
in
another
time
.
‘
Ye
Cavaliers
of
Dixie
!
Who
guard
the
Southern
shores
.
.
.
’
‘
When
the
boys
come
home
in
triumph
,
brother
,
with
the
laurels
they
shall
gain
.
.
.
’
So
many
songs
,
sung
on
both
sides
,
blowing
north
,
blowing
south
on
the
night
winds
.
‘
We
are
coming
,
Father
Abraham
,
three
hundred
thousand
more
.
.
.
’
‘
Tenting
tonight
,
tenting
tonight
,
tenting
on
the
old
camp
ground
.
’
‘
Hurrah
,
hurrah
,
we
bring
the
Jubilee
,
hurrah
,
hurrah
,
the
flag
that
makes
us
free
.
.
.
"
