I think I understand what military fame is; to be killed on the field of battle and have your name misspelled in the newspapers.

A battery of field artillery is worth a thousand muskets.

The scenes on this field would have cured anybody of war.

If you don't have my army supplied, and keep it supplied, we'll eat your mules up, sir.

If I had my choice I would kill every reporter in the world, but I am sure we would be getting reports from Hell before breakfast.

But, my dear sirs, when peace does come, you may call on me for any thing. Then will I share with you the last cracker, and watch with you to shield your homes and families against danger from every quarter.