Forward they came, their line even and beautiful, and then the tempest beat upon them.

The entire French fire was concentrated upon the concave red lines.

The batteries poured grape shot upon them and a sleet of lead cut through flesh and bone.

Gaps were torn in their ranks, but the others closed up, and came on, the American Colonials on their flanks charging as bravely.
Robert suddenly remembered a vision of his, vague and fleeting then, but very real now.

He was standing here at Ticonderoga, looking at the battle as it passed before him, and now it was no vision, but the truth.