Three
hours after midnight
Fascines are like long , tight fagots . It was still dark on the morning of that 20th day of September , 1854 . The whole army of the allies lay stretched on the damp ground . Three hours after midnight the cry was heard , `` Stand to your arms . '' We rose to our feet , every two comrades wringing their wet blankets , and placing them on their knapsacks . We then fell in , and waited till daylight , when we were ordered to pile arms and fall out , but not to go more than a hundred yards from our regiments , as we might be required at a moment 's notice to march to the front . The sun rose brightly , without a cloud in the sky , and at seven o'clock the whole army advanced .