CHAPTER XVIII
THE BIG PUSH
Susan Nipper was talking very loud, very fast, and she had need. TheGermans had started something toward the American lines and gun pits--acloud of something bluish, greenish, whitish and altogether veryominous. It was a gas attack.
On the other side of the hill Susan's sister, and still farther beyondanother one of the same capable family, were also talking loud and fastand very much to the purpose, so that wherever their well-timed shellsreached the gas-emitting guns and machinery the terrible clouds, after amoment, ceased to flow out and the atmosphere and the sloping groundbecame clearer and clearer.
Then, all that the American boys had to do was to put on their gas masksfor several hours and burn anti-gas fumes, the Boches having been put toa lot of trouble and much expense for very little gain; one or twocareless fellows were for a time overcome. After that there was awholesome contempt for the gas on the part of the boys from over theocean.
But Susan kept right on speaking her mind. As the gas men retreated fromthe field in a terrible hurry they got all that was coming to them andmany had come on that did not go off at all, unless upon litters.
Then, Susan paid her respects to aircraft of several kinds that had comeover, not on scouting duty, but to drop their bombs here and there.There was a regular fleet of aircraft planes, or it might seem better tocall a bunch of them a flotilla, or perhaps a flytilla. Anyway, theymade an impressive sight, though not all coming near enough for Susan toreach.
Most of the enemy airplanes went on, despite the guns aimed at them fromthe earth, until, sighting a number of French machines coming out to dobattle, they strategically fell back over the German lines, thus to gainan advantage if they or their enemies were forced to come to the ground.
The Americans had not before witnessed such a battle in the air as that.The birdmen turned, twisted, dived, mounted, maneuvered to gainadvantage, French and German being much mixed up and now and thenspitting red tongues of flame, singly or in rapid succession, at eachother.
Two machines were injured and came to earth, one German, that descendedslowly; the other French, that tumbled over and over, straight down.Then two other German planes were forced to descend, and, finally,others coming from far behind the lines, the French retreated, beingmuch outnumbered; they had to be outnumbered to retreat from the hatedBoches. And the Boches did not follow them up.
This had all happened soon after daylight, the different incidentsfollowing each other rapidly. It was hardly eight o'clock when SusanNipper let fly her last shell at the airplane. Before noon a messengerarrived at the pit, and Corporal Whitcomb was sent for.
"My boy, they must be aware of you back there at headquarters. You knowyou have been mentioned in dispatches a number of times as resourceful,altogether fearless, capable in leadership and----"
"I don't know how to thank you sufficiently--" Herbert began, but thelieutenant shut him off.
"Don't try it, then! Merely justice, fair dealing, appreciation,recognition of worth. We aim toward that in the army; militarystandards, you know. Well, as I was going to say, there is a generaladvance ordered, in conjunction with our Allies. We want to push theHuns out of their trenches and make them dig in farther on, somewhere.If the attempt is successful, the engineers will place Susan in a newpit somewhere ahead. But the main thing you want to know is what yourduty will be."
The lieutenant settled back with a half smile; half an expression ofdeep concern.
"They expect us fighting men in the army, and in the navy, too, Isuppose, to have or to show not one whit of sentiment. We are expectedto be no more subject to such things than the cog-wheels of a machine.But they can no more teach us that than they can teach us not to behungry, or to want sleep. I have begun to think, of late, that theydon't expect us to sleep, either.
"Well, my boy, if you would like to see an example of military brevity Iwill show it to you. Ahem! Corporal, report to-night to regimentalheadquarters, with your company; Captain Leighton, Advanced Barracks. Byorder of Colonel Walling.
"But hold on! Here's a little of the absence of military brevity. Itappears that they so admire your record back there at headquarters thatthey have picked you out for almost--no doubt you think me pessimistic,or a calamity howler--for almost certain injury or death. My boy, Iwanted you to stay here with me until we are relieved, which will besoon, but now they are going to take you away from me. An old man likeme--I am getting on toward fifty--gets to have a lot of feeling in suchmatters. He likes to think of his military family, of his boys, andbecomes more than usually attached to some of them. But let that pass.
"They're going, I am told, to put you on special scouting duty beforethe drive. Of course, you'll go and glory in it, but, my boy--Well, goodluck to you; good luck! If you get out all right, look me up when we areall relieved. Look us all up; the men will all wish it."
Herbert's leave taking of the pit platoon and the squads in theadjoining trench, that night, was one that was more fitting for a lot ofschool cronies than hardened soldiers bent upon the business of killing.But human nature is human all the world over and under pretty much allconditions.
That night, in the half light of a moon darkened by thick clouds, and ina cold, steady rain, Corporal Whitcomb journeyed with a patrol and on anempty ammunition lorry back again toward the rear, though not far. Afterbunking in the one empty cot in the barracks of a former National Guardbattalion and messing with same, he reported to Captain Leighton, of hisown company. He was received with a more than cordial handshake.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Whitcomb, especially after what wehave heard concerning you. And you are the last man of your squad; theone survivor! Well, I learn that was not because you tried to save yourskin. We have lost a good many men; sniping is one of the very hazardousthings. The plan now is to form new squads as fast as we can get the menin from the trenches and they will be assigned to new points, mostly.You will be given eight other men, but we want you for special duty. TheBritish have sent us a tank; one of these new-fangled forts on wheels,or belts, or whatever they call them, and it is to blaze a certaintrail, to be followed by an armored motor car in which your squad willtravel right into the enemy's lines. The car has trench bridges to laydown anywhere. Reaching an advanced spot, hereafter to be indicated andwhere a mine is to be laid, you will guard this from attack until acounter-drive; then fall back and set the mine off at a signal."
"Are we to carry any other weapons but----"
"Only your rifles and pistols, and, of course, gas masks. No packs.There will be tools to dig you in and the car will carry all supplies.Perhaps the spot will not be attacked at all; perhaps it will beoverwhelmed at once. In the latter case you are to use your own judgmentabout the setting off of the mine. You want to hold the enemy back untila large number attack you."
The general drive was ordered. The Allied armies were to attack almostsimultaneously and over the frozen ground of winter, rain or shine, snowor blow. The firing of big guns and smaller guns from the Cambrai sectorto the Aisne indicated to friend and foe alike what must be the plan.After some hours of this, when half of those in the German trenches hadbeen made nearly crazy by the incessant hammering and many had beenkilled, the great push was on.
But the Germans were wise to the purpose. There had been other mightydrives launched against them, some to force them back a few miles and towin their first, second and even third line trenches; some to winnothing at all; some to be pushed back a little here and there, in turn,showing what a deadlock it is for armies of great nations to battle withthose of others long and splendidly prepared.
But this was a new thing in drives; it was fully simultaneous; it waslaunched in the early part of winter when the ground was frozen hard toa depth of several inches, to be broken up by the tramp of men overcertain spots, the dragging of heavy ordnance, the armored cars, tanksand motor trucks, until in spots there was a sea of mud, holding backthe advance to some extent, but still bravely overcome by plu
ck andpersistence.
And there were several new schemes launched, largely the result ofAmerican strategy and suggestion.
Herbert knew all of the men in his new squad; they had all qualified assnipers at Camp Wheeler and otherwise he approved of them. A bunch ofathletic chaps, skilled with rifles and revolvers and having alreadyknown the baptism of fire, were to be relied on in any emergency.
Not one of them ever forgot that motor-truck ride. They forged alongover rough and rocky ground, through muddy and oozy ground, even throughbits of swamp and, following the great, lumbering tank a hundred yardsahead, they plowed through once prosperous farmyards, along the streetof a ruined and deserted village, seeing only a cat scamper into a lonecellar, through orchards, that had once blossomed and fruited, but withevery tree now cut down by the dastardly Boches.
Finally, still following the iron monster that was now spitting flame,they crossed the empty trenches of their Allies, putting into use thegrooved bridge planking on which their wheels ran as over a track, andthen came to the first line trenches of the enemy. Whereupon thingsbegan to get interesting.
On either side was orderly pandemonium; a concentrated Hades withmotive, its machinery of death carried out with precision, method,exactness of detail, except where some equally methodical work of theenemy overthrew the plans for a time.
Long lines of infantry in open formation were running forward, pitchingheadlong to lie flat and fire, then up again and breaking intotrenches, shooting, stabbing with bayonets, throwing grenades and afterbeing half lost to sight in the depths of the earth for a time, emergingagain beyond, perhaps fewer in numbers, but still sweeping on.
Here and there were machine-gun squads struggling along to place theirdeadly weapons and then raking the retreating or the standing enemy withthousands of deadly missiles, sometimes themselves becoming the victimsof a like annihilating effort or the bursting of a well-directed enemyshell.
Herbert rode with the driver; and before them and all around them theheavy sheet-iron sides and top of the armored truck protected them fromsmall gun fire.
It was a risky thing to peep out of the gun holes in the armor towitness the battle, but this most of the boys did, the driver by thenecessity of picking his way, and Herbert's eyes were at the four-inchaperture constantly.
Just behind him Private Joe Neely knelt at a side porthole, and next tohim came young Pyle and Bill Neely, brother of the before-mentioned Joe.Cartright, Appenzeller, and Wood occupied the other side, back of thedriver. Finley and Siebold lay on the straw in the center and hugged thewater keg and the boxes of explosives and food to keep them fromdancing around at too lively a rate on their comrades' feet.
The going was as rough as anything that a motor truck had probably evertackled, especially a weighty vehicle of this kind. It was well that thecar had an engine of great power, an unbreakable transmission and adriver that knew his business.
On swept the great push, seemingly as irresistible, for a time, as thewaves of the ocean, but presently to cease on the shore of humanendurance; and the battle, so called, came to an end almost as quicklyas it had begun five hours before.
Over the ground won the Americans and the Allies generally were diggingin anew, or utilizing and refortifying the conquered German trenches.Once again were the great armies to face each other across a new NoMan's Land the old area having been reclaimed.
But the active fight was not over, for then came the enemy'scounter-thrusts here and there, which, as important as winning thebattle proper, must be checked by every means possible. It was the planof the American commander and his staff to teach the Boches a lesson inmore ways than one.
Along the British sector the tanks, as formerly, had done wonderfulwork; the one tank with the American troops had also fulfilled itsmission. It had ridden, roughshod, over every obstacle, crushing downbarbed wire entanglements, pushing its way across trenches, its manyguns dealing death to the foe on every side. In its wake and not farbehind it the armored truck had followed faithfully the trail thusblazed by the tank.
At one spot, in line with a bend of the first line trench, a Hunmachine-gun had let go first at the tank and then at the truck, doing nodamage to the former. The boys in the latter hardly knew at first whatto make of the direct hitting and glancing bullets that pattered on theiron sides, but they took quick notice of one that came through aport-hole and rebounded from the inside. It caused some commotion.
"Hey there, you chump! You don't need to dodge now; it's done for!"shouted Appenzeller, addressing young Pyle.
"Sho! Ye might think it was a hoop snake come in here 'stead o' nothin'but a old piece o' lead," remarked Cartright, and there was a generallaugh.
"What's the matter with Joe? Here, man, do you feel sick? Say,Corporal, reckon he's got it!" called Finley, with one hand trying tohold Neely from falling backward, the fellow also trying to hold himselfup.
Herbert swung round; Bill Neely was beside his brother and talking tohim:
"Say, Joe, are you hurt? How, Joe? When? Just now? Blast them devils!Mebbe you ain't bad, Joe; you only think so. Lots do."
"Stop the car, driver! Here's where we leave the track of the tank,anyway, I take it," ordered Herbert, getting down to business. "Whereare you hurt, Neely?"
For answer the poor fellow placed his hand on his back; then suddenlyfell limp in his brother's arms. Bill began to mumble over him.
"He isn't dead, Bill; he's just fainted," said Herbert. "We must get himback, Joe, somehow, to a hospital. But there are no ambulances followingus this closely. And we must go on, whatever happens; those are ourorders."
"Corporal, let me take him back!" Bill Neely made the requestpleadingly. "I'll get him there somehow and then I'll come back and findyou. I'll find you. I've got to put some lead into them Huns to getsquare for Joe, if he dies! Will you, Corporal?"
"Go ahead, then, Bill. Slide that bolt and push that door open, Wood,and help get Joe down. Poor fellow! I hope he isn't badly hurt. Gostraight for that bunch of pines, Bill, and you'll be pretty safe. Ifyou come back bear off to the right a little from here and you'll findus pretty soon. So long, old man!"
Bill Neely with his brother humped over his shoulder, started back, asdirected; the great armored car went on. Herbert told Wood to peep outback and watch Bill's progress, if he could, and the car progressed, asindicated by his orders. He had reached what he believed was a properplace, hardly two hundred yards from where they had stopped; he wasordering all out, the supplies unloaded and the driver to return, whenWood called to him:
"They're both gone! Wiped out! Shell! It hit right at Bill Neely's feet!I couldn't see anything but legs and arms and things."
"Killed?"
"Done for."
"Poor chaps! The only two boys in the family, too. Their poor oldmother'll miss them."
"Know them, Pyle?"
"Sure; since we were kids. Just across the street."
"Well, men; it's terrible, as we all know, but we've got to hustle if wedon't all want to suffer the same fate. Get out those trench tools,Appenzeller, and give me a pick! We've got to dig in quick!"