Gaizika stood before the carriage door, his heart full of unease.
The train was like a giant python with a black head, lying silently upon the ground. At that moment, he felt as though he were about to crawl into its belly.
"Is this... thing really safe?" He turned to Honor Representative Sergeant Paupard.
The latter smiled and patted him on the back. "I remember you said you weren't afraid even when facing Austrian cannon. And now you don't dare board a train?"
"I-I dare!" Gaizika shouted, his face red. Then he yanked tight the strap of his percussion cap gun, gritted his teeth, and jumped aboard.
The somewhat dim carriage contained dozens of rows of wooden benches. Every two rows shared a backrest a little over one meter high.
Following the order of seating, Gaizika sat beside Nacelli.
The seats were extremely cramped. To increase carrying capacity, each carriage had twenty-three and a half rows of seats, with six people to a row, for a total of 141 places.
Yet soldiers like Gaizika seemed very happy—these wooden benches were far more comfortable than riding horses. After all, traveling for an entire day in the saddle left one sore from the waist to the hips. Without exception, every cavalryman had thick calluses on the insides of his thighs.
As for the infantry, there was even less need to mention them. Walking twenty or thirty kilometers every day was no easy task, whereas now they merely had to sit.
Half an hour later, a loud whistle sounded from ahead. The carriage jolted violently, then began to move slowly.
The soldiers aboard immediately burst into cries of excitement and nervousness. Some lowered their heads and prayed without pause. The officers of each company had to exert great effort before everyone gradually calmed