The infantry regiments caught unaware scattered in the woods amidst the French assault. Soldiers shouted, “Cut off!” - a most dangerous sentiment. “Surrounded?! We’re lost!” was the collective reply.

The General realized something that he, an officer of 22 years, would be held responsible. He forgot his standoff with the cavalry colonel. Tolstoy notes, “The moment of moral conviction, which decides the fate of battles had arrived. Would his soldiers attend to the desperate voice of their commander or continue their flight?” Despite his shouts, the soldiers continued to run about in a panic.

Nevertheless, there was a sea-change! The French disappeared as a special unit emerged from the woods -- Timokhin’s company, filled with sharpshooters.

Timokhin was previously singled out by Kutuzov for his participation in the Siege of Izmail in 1790. He recalled Timokhin had a penchant for drinking but was a good man. Tushin and Timokhin are fictional, but symbolic to how the Battle of Shöngrabern was a success. Timokhin, brandishing a sword, rushed at the enemy with such a mad determination, it inspired the rest.

His behavior was reminiscent of the historic Siege, which has honorable and horrific aspects. The effort repelled the Ottomans from a critical position. After taking heavy casualties, Russian forces rampaged the City. Many were raped and executed. The massacre troubled Kutuzov’s soul.

The story turns to Dólokhov, who also possessed the fighting spirt that repelled the French. Dólokhov, running beside Timokhin, killed a Frenchman and seized a surrendering officer – who he dragged to a superior. Dolokhov brazenly approached his commander. “The whole company can bear witness. I beg you will remember this!” Dólokhov then untied his handkerchief and exhibited his wound.

The story moves to Tushin’s battery. Critical support had been moved yet this battery continued firing. The French could not surmise anyone would fire from such an undefended position.

The French eventually countered but Tushin was absorbed in the task before him and his artilleryman admired his resolve. In a childlike glee, the men only noticed when balls fell among them, tearing apart both men and horses. The horses were replaced and wounded carried off, as their four guns turned against ten. Tushin’s companion officer had been killed and 17 of 40 from the battery were casualties. Still they were merry.

Tushin was in a feverish delirium. It seemed so long ago since he fired the first shot. He regarded the corner of the field he stood as familiar. He gave his guns nicknames. “Matvévna, dear old lady, don’t let me down!” He imagined himself as a god throwing cannon balls. Around him, his crew bustled; and they all looked at Tushin as a father.

Suddenly a voice of a staff officer yelled out: “Captain Tushin! Are you mad? You have twice been ordered to retreat...”

Tushin was taken out of the zone. A cannon ball caused the officer to duck. As he galloped off – he shouted “Retire! All to retire!”

A moment later, Prince Andrei arrived. As one ball after another landed, he felt a shudder. He delivered the order and tried to have the guns taken. Andrei and Tushin did not speak -- as both were busy securing the only two working cannons on a cart and moving them down a hill.

Andrei then told Tushin. “Well, till we meet again...” holding out his hand. “Good-bye, my dear fellow,” replied Tushin. “Dear Soul! Good-bye, my dear fellow!” and tears suddenly filled Tushin's eyes.