CHAPTER VI
THE COMING DRIVE
"That big German drive seems to have slipped a cog somewhere," Bartremarked to his comrades, a few days later, as they were resting aftera hard morning's work at organizing the position that their divisionwas holding.
"I suppose the Crown Prince is making up a new time-table," grinnedBilly. "He seems to have a passion for that. He ought to have been arailroad man."
"The trouble is that they always go wrong," laughed Frank. "I'll bethe's cross-eyed."
"Yet the Heinies fall for them every time," said Billy. "I supposethey figure that just by the law of chance one of them will have to beright some time."
"I thought that the drive had started the other morning, when theGermans came down like wolves on a fold," said Bart. "But it seemsthat things were quiet on other parts of the line, so that this musthave been just a local operation."
"Local operation!" snorted Billy. "In other days it would have beencounted a big battle. Why, if Waterloo were pulled off now do you knowhow the papers would describe it? They'd say that there was'considerable activity on a section of the line over near HougomontFarm yesterday, where certain units under Napoleon and Wellington camein contact. The artillery fire was fairly strong, and there wereclashes between a few infantry regiments and the French were repulsed.Apart from this there is nothing to report.'"
The boys laughed.
"Everything's topsy-turvy nowadays," said Frank. "It used to be armiesthat did the fighting. Now it's whole nations. But look at that scrapgoing on overhead. Its a dandy."
They looked in the direction he indicated and their pulses quickened,for they themselves had once been engaged in a battle in the sky, andan aerial combat had a personal interest to them.
Far up in the sky, which just then was as clear as crystal, a duel wasin progress between two planes. It was evident at a glance that bothof the rival aviators were masters of their profession. They circleddeftly about each other like giant falcons, jockeying for position,each trying to get the weather gauge on the other where he could rakehis opponent with his machine gun without exposing himself to hisenemy's fire in return.
Swooping, climbing, diving, the planes pursued their deadly purpose,while exclamations of admiration came from the lips of the fascinatedonlookers as some specially daring manoeuvre promised to give theadvantage first to one and then to the other of the antagonists.
"Classy work!" exclaimed Frank.
"They're both dandies," declared Billy. "It's a toss up as to whichwill win."
"They're so far up that it's hard to tell which is which," said Bart,"but I've got a nickel that says the Hun will be downed."
"Great Scott," cried Frank. "One of them was hit that time. See itswerve."
"And look at the smoke!" Billy shouted. "It's on fire! A bullet musthave hit the petrol tank."
A burst of smoke and flame shot out from the doomed plane, and it beganto fall, fire streaming out in its wake like the tail of a meteor.Down it came like a plummet.
"It's coming right in our lines!" exclaimed Bart. "Scatter, fellows,or it will be right on top of us!"
The wrecked plane had fallen about two hundred feet, when a figure shotfrom the burning mass, whirling over and over as it descended. Theaviator, knowing that his only choice lay between being burned orcrushed, had chosen the less painful form of death.
The body fell some distance off, but the plane itself came down withina few rods of the boys. It was blazing so fiercely that they could notapproach very close to it, but they could easily detect the markingwhich indicated that it was a French plane.
The Army Boys looked at each other regretfully.
"Score one for the Huns," remarked Frank. "You'd have lost yournickel, Bart."
"It's too bad," said Billy, as he straightened up and shook, his fistat the victorious plane.
But to the boys' amazement, the conqueror, instead of flying off towardhis own lines, was coming down toward them in long sweeping spirals.
"Why, it looks as if he were going to land here!" exclaimed Billy inwonder.
"If he does, we'll have the satisfaction of taking him prisoneranyway," observed Bart.
"It must be that his own plane is injured and he has to descend,"suggested Frank.
But there was no sign of injury to the descending plane and it seemedto be in perfect control. Swiftly and steadily it came down, and a cryof astonishment broke from the boys as they saw that it bore Americanmarkings.
"How's that?" exclaimed Frank. "There's been a fearful mistakesomewhere. This fellow has downed a French plane thinking that it wasGerman."
"He'll be court-martialed for that or I miss my guess," said Bart witha frown.
"It's bad enough to have the Huns after us without trying to kill ourown people," growled Billy.
There was a level place nearby that made an ideal place for a landing,and the American machine came down there with scarcely a jar.
The boys rushed toward it with reproaches on their lips, but theirwrath was lost in astonishment when they recognized, in the aviator whostepped forth, Dick Lever, one of the most daring of the American"aces" and a warm personal friend of theirs.
The reproaches died when they saw him, for only a little while beforehe had saved them from a German prison by swooping down with hismachine and carrying them off from their captors. It was with mixedfeelings that they greeted him, as he came gaily forward, a smile uponhis handsome bronzed face. But Dick seemed to feel a certain stiffnessin their welcome that was unusual.
"Hello, fellows," he greeted. "What's the grouch?"
"No grouch at all, Dick," answered Frank. "We owe you too much forthat. We're only sorry that you happened to make a mistake and down aFrench plane thinking it was German."
Dick's eyes twinkled.
"Come out of your trance," he chuckled. "I don't make that kind ofmistakes."
For answer Frank led the way to the wrecked and partly burned plane andpointed out the markings.
But despite the evidence, Dick still seemed unabashed and his chucklebroke into a laugh.
"That's one on you fellows," he snorted. "Those markings are purecamouflage. Just another cute little German trick that went wrong.That fellow set out to take photographs over our lines and he didn'twant to be disturbed, so he painted out his own markings, and put theFrench in their place. If you'll come a little closer you can see theHun marks under their coat of white."
The boys did so and, now that their attention had been called to it,they could readily see the tracings that had been almost obliterated.
"That's evidence enough," remarked Dick, "but to make assurance doublysure we'll go over to where the aviator fell and you'll see that he wasa German all right."
The body had been decently covered up before the boys reached there,but the clothing and the effects found proved beyond a doubt that theaviator had been one of their foes.
"Take it all back, Dick," said Frank. "You knew what you were about.And I'm glad that you came out of the scrap safe and sound. But itcertainly was some scrap while it lasted."
"It sure was," replied Dick. "That fellow was as skilful and plucky asthey make them. He kept my hands full, and there was one time when hecame within an ace of raking me. But luck was with me. Poor fellow!I'm sorry for him, but I'd have been still more sorry if it had beenmyself."
"What beats me is the way you tumbled to him," puzzled Billy. "Yousurely couldn't have read the German markings under their coat ofpaint. How did you know he was a German?"
Dick smiled.
"Simple enough," he answered. "We Allied aviators have a secret systemof signals, something like Freemasonry. When we come near anotherplane that seems to be one of our own, we make a certain dip of ourplane. That's like asking for the countersign. If the other fellow'sall right he makes a certain signal in return. If he doesn't do it thefirst time, we try again, because there's always a chance that hehasn't noticed our signal, or is too bus
y in handling his plane to givethe reply. But if after two or three times we don't get thecountersign, we know the fellow's a Hun and we open up on him."
"Good stuff!" approved Billy.
"That's what happened this morning," continued Dick. "This fellow camesailing along as calm and cheeky as you please, and was having a bullytime taking pictures of our positions. At least I suppose that is whathe was doing, as he evidently wasn't out looking for fight. I thoughtit wouldn't do any harm to take a look at him, although I saw themachine had French markings. I gave the signal, but of course hecouldn't give the countersign. I repeated it three times withoutgetting an answer, and then I pitched into him. That makes thethirteenth that I've brought down."
"Thirteen was an unlucky number for him, all right," remarked Billy.
"How are you fellows getting along?" asked Dick, stretching himself outon the ground for a brief resting spell. "I notice that you've beenright up to your neck in fighting lately."
"Its been pretty hot along this sector," Frank admitted, "though Isuppose it's nothing to what it will be after the big German drive getsstarted. That is if it ever does start. I sometimes think they'vegiven up the idea."
"Don't kid yourself," replied the aviator grimly. "It's coming, allright. If you fellows had been up in the air with me you wouldn't haveany doubt about it. The roads back of the German lines are just blackwith troops. It's like an endless swarm of ants. The trains movealong in endless procession and they're packed. Big guns, too, tillyou can't count them. It seems as if all Germany was on the move.It's the old invasion of the Huns over again."
"Where do they get them all, I wonder," remarked Billy.
"That's easy," replied Frank bitterly. "They're coming from theRussian front. The breakdown of Russia means a cool million at thevery least added to the German troops on the western front."
"That accounts for most of them," agreed Dick. "Then in additionGermany's combing out her empire to put every available man intoservice. She's enslaving the Belgians to work in her factories so thatGerman workmen can be sent into the ranks. She's calling up mere boyswho ought to be at their schoolbooks. I tell you, boys, Germany'sdesperate. She's beginning to realize what a fool she was to bringAmerica into the war, and she's going to try to get a decision beforewe get a big army over here."
"She'll have to get busy mighty soon, then," said Bart, "for UncleSam's boys are coming into France by the hundreds of thousands. Andthose hundreds of thousands will be millions before long."
"Right you are," agreed Dick. "The jig's up with Germany and she's theonly one that doesn't see it. It's fun to see the way she tries tobelittle America to her own people. Almost every week she has tochange the story. At first she said that America wouldn't fight atall. We were a nation of money grabbers. Then even if we wanted tofight the U-boats would keep us from getting over; Then even if we gotover, our troops would be green and run like hares as soon as theycaught sight of the veteran Prussian regiments."
The boys looked at each other with a grin.
"We've run, all right," chuckled Billy, "but we've run toward theminstead of away from them."
"They thought our marines would run too," laughed Frank, "but do yousee what they're calling them now? _Teufelhunden_. They'redevil-hounds, all right, and the dachshund yelps when he sees themcoming."
"What do you think the Germans will aim for when they do begin theirdrive?" queried Bart.
"The Allied commanders would give a good deal to know that," smiledDick. "Of course the thing the Huns want to do above everything elseis to separate and crush the Allied armies. Everything would be easyafter that. But if they can't do that, they'll probably make a breakfor Paris. They figure that if they once got that in their hands theFrench would be ready to sue for peace. Or they may try to take theChannel Ports, where they'd be in good position to take a hack atEngland. The only thing that's certain is that the drive is coming andwhen it does come it's going to be the biggest fight in the history ofthe world."
"Let Heinie do his worst," said Bart.
"Yes," agreed Frank. "And no matter what he does, he'll have to reckonwith Uncle Sam."