摘要：It was a magnificent thing. It was old, dented and tar- nished, but otherwi se in good shape. Long, l ong ago¡ªbefore radios¡ªthe Army depended on bugles. They sounded the charge and retreat, moved u nits here and there, woke sleepy soldiers at dawn, sent them to chow, and played them to sleep (or buried them) with the sweet, mournful sounds of taps. This one belonged to a young captain, but how it found itself in his ruck- sack, here in the middle of nowhere in the mountains of Bosnia in December 1995, I really wanted to know.
