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The BRIGHTON BOYS in THE TRENCHES
THE BRIGHTON BOYS SERIES BY LIEUTENANT JAMES R. DRISCOLL AS FOLLOWS:
THE BRIGHTON BOYS WITH THE FLYING CORPS
THE BRIGHTON BOYS IN THE TRENCHES
THE BRIGHTON BOYS WITH THE BATTLE FLEET
THE BRIGHTON BOYS IN THE RADIO SERVICE
THE BRIGHTON BOYS WITH THE SUBMARINE FLEET
THE BRIGHTON BOYS IN THE ENGINEERING CORPS
THE RED STREAKS OF FLAME STABBED THE SEMI-DARKNESS.]
The BRIGHTON BOYS in THE TRENCHES
BY LIEUTENANT JAMES R. DRISCOLL
ILLUSTRATED
THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
Copyright, 1918, by THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE INCENTIVE 9
II. JOINING HANDS WITH UNCLE SAM 23
III. GETTING INTO HARNESS 32
IV. A FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT 42
V. A DELICATE MISSION 54
VI. HITTING THE MARK 65
VII. THE MATCH 76
VIII. GETTING OVER AND ON 87
IX. FACING THE ENEMY 97
X. WAR IS--WAR! 109
XI. A DOUBLE SURPRISE 116
XII. HUNTING BIG GAME IN NO MAN'S LAND 128
XIII. THE TRAITOR IN CAMP 138
XIV. LIFE AND DEATH 149
XV. WING SHOOTING WITH A RIFLE 163
XVI. "OVER THE TOP" 174
XVII. HERBERT'S LITTLE SCHEME 189
XVIII. THE BIG PUSH 199
XIX. LIEUTENANT WHITCOMB 214
ILLUSTRATIONS
THE RED STREAKS OF FLAME STABBED THE SEMI-DARKNESS _Frontispiece_
PAGE
SLENDER FINGERS THRUST HIS HAND ASIDE 64
HE FIRED TWICE IN QUICK SUCCESSION 168
"MAYBE I'LL HEAR THEM PRONOUNCE MY DOOM" 178
The Brighton Boys in the Trenches
CHAPTER I
THE INCENTIVE
With the days that the poet has termed the rarest, the longest, sunniestdays of the year, there had come to Brighton at once sad and happy days.
For it was that time in early June when to those who have been faithfulis given the credit they so richly deserve for hard study andachievement; the time also of parting from loved classmates andcompanions in glory on the field of sport, of leaving behind for a time,or perhaps forever, the dear old school and the campus, the custodiansof so many delightful associations.
Golden moments are those, indeed, even though shadows mar the perfectglow of youth and hope and aspirations. But shadows there must be, forschool is but a part of life's too brief journey taken through manyunlighted places, as well as in the sunshine.
Herbert Whitcomb, over-tall and manly-looking for his seventeen years,strolled alone down the broad boardwalk that led from class-rooms todormitories, his hands in his pockets, his head bowed in earnestthought. He turned off suddenly into one of the clusters of spruces thatdotted the spacious grounds and finding a bench sank down dejectedly,his comely face, usually expressive of good humor, now showing onlysorrow.
It was just after final examinations, and other students, singly, inpairs and in groups, were among the trees enjoying the restfulness ofthe out-of-doors. Two standing within a few yards could be heardtalking.
"They have joined, but I don't know what regiment. Gosh! What adifference the war is going to make right here in good old BrightonAcademy! There's Corwin and Joe Little and 'Fatty' Benson in theAmerican flying squadron; and Jed Harris and a bunch of the fellows arein the navy."
"Jack Hammond and Ted Wainwright--they went underseas with the Yankeesubmarine fleet, didn't they?"
"You bet! There's dare-devil action for you! Fighting the sea wolves intheir own element! Shouldn't wonder if those Brighton submarine boysblow up the Kiel Canal before they're through! Got brains, thosefellows. Well, things are moving. As sure as shooting, we're going tomake the world safe for democracy! I guess I'll have to get into thegame myself. It isn't any fun sitting on the bleachers. I'm goin' toenlist."
"Why not wait till you're of age and then let 'em draft you?"
"Not for me, kid. I want to have my choice of the branch of service Ijoin."
"You've made up your mind, then?"
"Yep. Me for the Engineers' Corps. Believe me, there's no more importantbranch of the army----"
The young men had started off and now their voices died away among thetrees. Whitcomb suddenly sat up very straight, his hands on his knees,and gazed fixedly before him, seeing nothing, but in his mind's eyeseeing much, for a thought, not altogether new, had come to him and hewas beginning to bite down on it hard. The boy's clenched hand went upinto the air and then smote the bench seat quite forcibly.
"Must've smashed that fly, or was it a knotty problem?" said a jovialvoice, the branches of the spruces parting to let the speaker through; ared-headed, freckled, squint-eyed lad who was quite as homely as the onewhom he addressed was good looking.
Whitcomb greeted the newcomer sadly. "Well, old man, this is my last dayon earth. It was my hopes I was smashing."
Roy Flynn, classmate, loyal friend, all-round good fellow, with laughingIrish eyes, threw back his head, opened a mouth that might almost havemade a barn door jealous and very unmistakably chuckled.
"I'm goin' t' die with ye, then! What's the crime for which we're bein'executed?"
"Listen! Got a letter from the legal luminary this morning," beganWhitcomb. "Contents nothing but words and to the effect that the cash isgone. It's now up to me right away to hustle round and get myself somemore, somehow. That's not so bad, but it means no more school, or ofBrighton, anyway. It means this, too: that I, Herb Whitcomb, have got toget back there among the more lowly where I belong and travel the backalleys awhile--it's only the lucky that can hit the highways. Muchpleasure in the thought that some of my old friends are saying: 'Huh!Took a tumble, didn't he? Money ran out. Tried to fly too high in thefirst place, I guess,' and all that sort of thing. But least pleasantwill be that you and I----"
Roy interrupted with a sudden roar.
"'Whurrah! Whurrah!' as me old granddad used to say. Tin-can the bluestuff and the pessimistic rot! There's going to be nothing unpleasantconcerning you and I--I mean you and me. And why, me lad? Because do Isee meself letting the misfit circumstances of this changeable worldmake a monkey of me? Yes, I do not! Life is too brief, and sorry the daywhen one bids good-by to friends and fun; one's a fool who does and asme old granddad in Irelan
d used to say: 'Bad cest to 'em!' Am I right?"
"No doubt, if I only knew what you were talking about. I can't helpbeing thick-headed."
"Listen, Herb. Ye won't go to work this summer and ye won't quit school!I'm talkin' to ye. Me old dad has enough for the both of us and I'lllend ye enough for to see ye through in grand shape, if ye will coach mealong to keep up with ye. Are ye on?"
"Roy, I couldn't do that. I couldn't, really. You know a fellow has somepride, and I----"
"Oh, sure, but tin-can it this once. Ye've got no business to shove itat me and ye know, me lad, I'm never goin' to say one word about this toa single, solitary soul. It's between us only."
"I know that, old man; I would be sure of that, but even then Icouldn't--I--you see, I would know it myself, and I could never be quitehappy if I weren't paying my own way."
"But ye'll be coachin' me and I'll be payin' ye wages. Now, do ye mindthat? Are ye so blamed big-headed----?"
"'Fraid so. You see, I wouldn't be half earning what I'd need. And asfor the summer--well, there's another hundred and thirty dollars due andready for me, my guardian writes, so I might spend a week or so with youin the mountains; then hunt a job. Come on in town with me now, willyou? I want to mail this letter to the legal luminary."
The two boys, arm in arm, made their way across the juniper and sprucecovered hillside, then into the broad walk and through the high stonegateway to the street. The post office was half a mile away.
Stepping along briskly and discussing future plans, they were almostpast a little crowd, mostly of students and small boys, collected on thesidewalk when quick-witted Roy, not at the moment speaking, caught a fewwords that made him halt instantly and turn. Herb gazed at him insurprise.
"--und vat I care for der law?" came a guttural voice. "Der Americanbeebles vas fools to go to war mit Chermany, for vat can dey do? DerChermans is fighters und drained up to der minute und you oxpect deseAmerican chumps vill haff any show mit dem? Uh?"
In a moment Herbert and Roy had joined the assemblage and had observedthe speaker to be a big, large-girthed German possessing a very rednose, a glowering countenance and a manner contemptuous andself-exalted. One could read upon him, at a glance, that he held theunalterable opinion that there was no other country like Germany, nopeople to compare with the Germans and for all the rest of the world, nomatter to what section he might owe his present prosperity, he had analtogether poor opinion.
The audience seemed strangely silent before the German's denunciationsand Herb glanced about him. Two seniors of Brighton were there and twoothers of the sophomore class, each one a youth of possibly doubtfulcourage, more in love with the refinements of books than with the dangerof engaging in too strenuous argument with a bearish, bully-ragging,irresponsible foreigner. The rest of the bunch were youngsters from thepublic school.
One bright-faced, quick-witted boy among the latter there was who aloneevidently had the courage of his convictions:
"Aw, gwan! What ye tryin' t' give us? Our fellers'll make that big stiffHindenburg look like a chicken hit with a brick! Them Dutchmen ain't samuch!"
"You vas only a leedle kid und you don'd know noddings," spouted theGerman. "Chermans ain'd Dutchmens; dey vas ten times as goot. Youfellers can fight, heh? Vere do you keep dese fighters? I ain'd seennoddings off dem; dey vas all crawled in a hole. Und der soldiers offder Vaterlandt, dey make 'em crawl in a hole chust like dat!" and hesnapped his pudgy fingers.
Roy looked at Herb, who was gazing at the big man through narrowedlids, his face turning red. The lad of pure Celtic stock felt his ownblood boil and his ready tongue found release.
"Now, ain't ye got the ignorant nerve to stand right out here in Americaand talk like a fat tomat? De ye know that might not be quite safeeverywhere?"
"Safe? Safe? Ach, I see noddings onsafe! I don't see no metals onnobotty roundt here vat iss going to make id onsafe for me. Und vat Itinks I says, heh? Und nobotty can stop me, needer!"
"Better not think too much, then, Dutchy," advised Roy.
"Say, young feller, you vas oldt enough to know bedder den to call meDutch. I vas Cherman. Und chust you remember dot; see?"
"That's so, Germany. I guess it's an insult to the honest Dutch to callyou that. By the way you fellows have been carrying on over there inBelgium, burning, looting, murdering women and children----"
"Dot vas a lie! All a lie! Newspapers, newspapers! Der Americannewspapers iss chust like der beeble, all liars! Und you belief 'em, pygollies, effrybotties. Efen Vilson, he ain'dt got no better----"
"Hold on, there! You're going much too far! Speak with respect of thePresident of the United States, or don't speak of him at all!" Thiscame, like a shot, from Herb, and the boy's eyes flashed into the littlepig's peepers of the big foreigner. A cheer went up from the crowd andRoy slapped his chum on the back.
"That's the stuff! Give him some more of that!"
The German took a few steps forward facing Herb, the crowd giving way.The man's arm was raised.
"Vat you got to say aboudt it, heh? I say chust vat I bleese. Who vasyou? Purdy soon I ketch you py der neck und twist id like a chicken getsder axe, heh?"
"You really couldn't mean to be so unkind, could you? Now, honest." Herbwas sarcastic. "Now, I'll tell you what we'll do to fix you. You comealong down town and we'll just turn you over to the cops. They'll wantto investigate you. How about it, fellows? Hadn't we better take himright now?"
One senior, scenting trouble, began to edge away, but the othersresponded by general acclamation. It might mean a serious scrimmage,but they were ready for it; all that had been needed to call them intoaction was a leader.
But the big German proved to be the actual aggressor. Permitting hisanger to get the better of his judgment and quicker on his feet than hisgirth would indicate, he made a rush straight at Herbert. No doubt hemeant to end matters by a sudden defeat of the leader and thusintimidate the others. But like many German plans this one did not fullywork out.
Herb merely side-stepped. As a most promising pupil he had long receivedspecial training in boxing from the capable athletic instructor. He wasinstantly out of the man's reach as the big arms and fat hands reachedto seize him; he was just a mite too far away also when the ponderousfist, swung round in the air, aimed at his head. But the German was notout of Roy's reach.
The foreigner's artillery may have been heavier, but that of theAmerican youth was handier and reached farther. The man's blow, thatsurely would have done damage had it landed, by its momentum had carriedhim half off his feet when Herb just stepped forward, shot out his armand stepped back again.
The German got it precisely in the right place on the jaw and hecollapsed like a clothes-horse with the props knocked from under it.
It was a good deal like a fat pig doing the wallow act, for the man didnot remain long quiescent. He rolled over to his hands and knees, thengot to his feet and letting out a roar like a mad bull, commencedswinging his arms windmill fashion. Then there was another rush at Herb.
The incident was repeated, precisely and accurately, except that theblow on the jaw was this time harder and that the German lay pronesomewhat longer. He arose this time to a sitting posture and through hislittle eyes regarded Herb with something akin to wonder. The boy, neverhard-hearted, turned away. But Roy stood before the undignified foe.
"Now, you see, Dutchy, what is bound to happen to you if you get gay.Pretty much the same thing is going to happen to the German Army beforelong. If you don't stop shooting off your big mouth this'll happen toyou." And the lad drew his fingers around his neck to indicate astrangling rope.
The growing crowd, many others having now joined it, set up a laugh andthen a decided cheer at this; the German blinked at his opponents, felthis jaw, made a horrible grimace and finally, getting to his feet, madeoff slowly across the street. The crowd jeered after him, then turnedwith appreciation toward Herbert. But that worthy, hating laudation,beckoned to Roy, and the two walked quickly on their way.
"One battle won, b'gorry!" Roy could not refrain from some comment."Say, Herb, they were sure nice ones that you handed him and right wherehe needed them most, too--in his talker. Reckon that was about the firstvictory over the Germans, but guess it won't be the last."
"I'm going to try to help that it isn't, Roy."
"What you mean, lad?"
"That chump's words set me to thinking," Herb said. "It's up to justsuch as I am to take a hand; a bigger hand. I'm going right now to therecruiting office and enlist."
"You are? By cracky! Enlist, is it? That's the stuff! Well, you knowwhat I told you about you and me. I'm going to enlist, too, if you do!I'll have to write for me old man's consent, of course, but he'll giveit. Come on! Let's go see what we gotta do." And the youth raised hisvoice in impromptu song:
"Boom a laddie! Boom a laddie! Let's go get a gun, Or a brick-bat and a shillalah Till I soak some son of a Hun!"