CHAPTER II
ENTOMBED
Hal Paine and Chester Crawford, in spite of the fact that the UnitedStates had not declared war on Germany until April of 1917, already hadseen virtually four years of fighting in Europe.
They had been in Berlin when the European conflagration broke out andhad been with the Allied armies almost from the first.
The lads had seen active service with the Belgian, British, French,Italian and Russian armies and, through their courage and bravery, hadwon captaincies in the British army.
When the United States entered the war, Hal and Chester were among theofficers sent back to America to help train the young men in the variousofficers' training camps. When they returned again to the fighting frontwith the first contingent of American troops to join the Allies, it wasas first lieutenants, U. S. A.
Through their courage and resourcefulness, both lads had won the praiseof Marshal Joffre, commander of the French forces, in the early days ofthe war, and of Sir Douglas Haig, the British commander-in-chief. Theyhad also rendered invaluable service to the Allied cause upon therequest of General Pershing, in command of the American ExpeditionaryForces.
Times had changed greatly since the first campaign, when the Germanarmies advanced to the very doors of Paris soon after war was declared.With America sending thousands of men each month to reinforce the armiesof France and Great Britain, it appeared that the Allies soon would havethe necessary numerical superiority to drive the enemy out of France andBelgium for all time, and to strike a decisive blow in the war.
So far, while battles of such magnitude as had never been seen beforewere fought almost daily, there had been nothing in the nature of aconflict that would indicate an ultimate decision. True, the Germans andAustrians, their allies, had staggered the Allies with a crushing drivein Italy; but, through the prompt action of the British and French, theyhad been driven back again.
It appeared, at this moment, that the next great blow would be deliveredby the Allies; that, with her numerical superiority overcome, her outputof munitions of war surpassed, Germany from this time on must remain onthe defensive in an effort to retain what ground she had won in theearly days of the war and to keep her enemies off German soil.
On the twentieth day of March the great battle line extended, roughly,from Ostend on the North Sea south to within a few miles of Ypres,thence to Bailleul and Lens. Here it was pushed slightly east, touchingBapaume and Peronne. In the Soissons region the Germans were inpossession of Chauny and Laon. The battle line continued south to theriver Aisne, and then followed that stream east into Alsace-Lorraine.
Everywhere, up to this time--that is, since the early days of thewar--success had seemed to crown the efforts of the Allies on theWestern front. On the Eastern front, however, it was different. ThroughGerman intrigue, Russia had been removed as a belligerent and more thana million and a half of German troops had been released to reinforce thehard-pressed Germans on the west.
Though the loss of Russia's aid in the war was a severe blow to theAllies, it was more than offset by the entrance of the United Statesinto the conflict. American soldiers were being rushed to Europe withall possible dispatch and were taking their places on the firing line.Already they had covered themselves with glory. So far, however, theyhad taken part only in what the official dispatches called "skirmishes,"although, compared to battles of previous wars, they could be classed asengagements of more than passing importance.
But the time was coming, and coming soon, when the Yankee troops wouldgo "over the top" under command of General Pershing in such force andwith such courage that the Germans could not stand before them.
Through the decision of an Allied war council, in which the UnitedStates participated, General Foch had been made the supreme commander ofthe Allied forces--British, American and Italian included. It wasbelieved that through this unity of command greater success would beachieved than had yet been manifest.
And the time for Marshal Foch to prove his mettle was at hand.
Under the personal direction of General von Hindenburg, the greatestmilitary genius that the war had yet produced, the German forces hadbeen massed for their second effort to break through to Paris. AlthoughMarshal Foch had some slight inkling of the impending attack, he hadbeen unable to tell just where it would be made. True, his air scoutshad flown time and again over the enemy lines, but so far they hadfailed to learn where the foe would strike.
As it developed, the first thrust was made in the north, with Ypres asthe apparent objective; although after the first few days of the driveit became apparent that Hindenburg's real plan was to get behind Parisfrom the north, after driving a wedge between the French and Britisharmies. This, through the ablest of strategy, Field Marshal Haig wasable to prevent.
Bailleul, Lens and other important railroad centers fell to the Germansin the second great enemy drive of the war. Suddenly, when apparentlychecked in the north, the enemy struck farther south, capturing Bapaume,Albert, Peronne and other important towns and villages.
When the Allied line at last held there, the attack was pressed againstYpres.
But this second drive was to fail as had all others, with a terribleloss to the Germans in manpower. Marshal Foch sacrificed ground to savelives, while, on the other hand, the German high command threw their menforward with an utter disregard for loss of life.
To Hal and Chester, after their return from No Man's Land on the nightbefore the opening of the German advance, it seemed that they had justclosed their eyes when they were awakened by a sudden loud detonationapparently in their very ears.
As both lads jumped to their feet they were borne down by an avalancheof dirt and concrete. Although neither lad knew at that moment what hadhappened, a German bomb had burst squarely over their dugout, shatteringthe little place.
The boys slept in improvised bunks close to each other, and in jumpingto their feet, they came closer together. They lay on the floor facedown as the debris continued to rain on them. For the moment neither wasable to speak.
At last the shower of debris ceased, and Hal made an effort to rise. Hedropped down to the floor again suddenly with an exclamation.
"What's the matter?" asked Chester, sitting up.
"Matter is," said Hal, "that I bumped my head. Seems like the roof hasfallen in."
Chester now made an effort to rise. He got to his feet more cautiously,however, and so did not hurt himself. Nevertheless, the lad gave anexclamation of alarm.
"Bump your head, too?" asked Hal.
"No," was the reply.
"What's the trouble then?"
"Trouble is," said Chester, "that we seem to be buried in here."
"Oh, I guess it's not as bad as that," said Hal hopefully, and, gettingto his feet cautiously, he began to explore.
The dugout, before the explosion, had been a small building, possiblyfifteen feet wide and as many feet long. It was entirely covered by aroof of wood. This, Hal found by exploration, seemed to have come downto within five feet of the floor and to be wedged down by a heavy weightoutside.
"We're buried, all right," said Hal at last, "but I guess we can getout. We'll have to dig."
"All right," said Chester. "Let's begin. I've got a knife here."
Hal also produced a knife and the lads fell to work upon the roof at oneend. After half an hour of strenuous work Hal sat down and wiped a moistbrow.
"Don't seem to be accomplishing much," he said.
"I should say not," said Chester as he sat down beside his chum.
"I'll tell you," said Hal after a pause, "I don't think we'll ever digour way out with these tools," and he tapped his knife.
"Well, what then?" asked Chester. "We can't stay here forever. We'llsuffocate. In fact, the air is already getting bad."
"I noticed that," Hal declared, "which is the reason that I say we can'tget out by digging. We might eventually dig our way out, if given time;but the poisonous air
will overcome us long before then."
"We've got to do something, Hal," said Chester. "We can't perish herelike rats in a trap without making an effort to save ourselves."
"Right. Then I've a suggestion to offer."
"Let's have it."
"It's dangerous," said Hal quietly, "and may mean only a quicker death."
"Anything is better than this inaction," Chester declared.
"Well," said Hal, "near my bunk are two hand grenades. My idea is this!Place them close to the fallen roof where we have been digging, comeback here and pot them with our revolvers. The explosion should blow theroof off."
"Or bury us a little deeper," said Chester grimly.
"Of course," said Hal. "However, it's the only chance I see. What do yousay?"
"Try it, of course," said Chester promptly. "It's the only way. Get outyour bombs."
Hal did so, and a moment later he had placed them to his satisfaction.
"Guess I can hit one in the dark," he said. "Hug down close, Chester."
Chester did so and Hal made himself as small as possible. A moment laterthere was a sharp report, followed by a heavy explosion.