CHAPTER XIII
UNDER FIRE
Eating an early supper, the order "stand to" came just at dusk and waspassed along from traverse to traverse. With it two veteran sentriesin each traverse took up their positions on the fire step to keep wardover No Man's Land.
Until relieved by other sentries, one of the two in each traverse wouldstand, immovable on the fire step, watching over the parapet for anysigns of activity on the part of the enemy. The other man would sitat his feet ready to inform the platoon officer of whatever reportshis companion might make in regard to what he saw going on across thenarrow stretch of land that divided the two armies.
It was an especially trying post for the observation man. Not for aninstant did he dare remove his eyes from the portion of land in frontof him. Whether he spoke to make a report or to answer a question putto him by his companion, he was obliged to speak in guarded tones andwithout turning his head. His motto had to be "Eyes Front."
In the trench, ranged along the fire step, with bayonets fixed, UncleSam's young defenders sat ready for duty at the slightest word ofcommand.
Now strictly on the alert, the Khaki Boys dared not speak above awhisper and only when necessary, as, for instance, in passing an orderalong the lane. Rigid discipline had to be observed in this respect,lest some loudly-uttered word should be heard by a Boche detail out onlistening post duty.
In the daytime No Man's Land is never a land of living men. Oftenit occupies a space hardly larger than a good-sized garden. It is adesolate stretch of ground, indeed. One sees only masses of barbed wireand yawning shell holes, sometimes containing all that remains of whatonce were fighting men. Perhaps a few ragged stumps dot it here andthere, or a pile of debris that originally formed part of a farmhouse,long since leveled to the earth by the barking dogs of war, the bigguns.
At night, however, it undergoes a swift transformation. Under coverof the darkness it soon swarms with living men. They crawl stealthilyabout on their details. Perhaps they are risking their lives onlistening duty. Again they may be out to mend broken-down wire. Aftera battle they steal out to bring in their dead and wounded.
Night expeditions across No Man's Land are of equal importance to bothsides. Each sends out its eyes to keep tab on the movements of theother and find out, if possible, his opponent's strength and plans.
Many a silent battle is fought there in the dark when two enemy detailschance to meet. Never a shot is fired. Steel meets steel and the victorgoes on his way, leaving behind the lifeless form of his antagonist.Out there, kill quickly and mercilessly is the watchword. The ethics ofNo Man's Land permit of no quarter.
The quiet continuing all evening, toward ten o'clock the new men and apart of their seasoned comrades were allowed to seek the dug-outs for alittle sleep.
At three o'clock in the morning the sleepers were routed out with theorder "stand to." Though the Khaki Boys could not know it, a patrolhad returned half an hour before with the information that they hadsurprised a Boche wiring party, who were busily engaged in cuttinglanes in their own wires, and had killed two of them. This lookeddecidedly suspicious, to say the least. The patrol was of the beliefthat an attack on the American trench would soon begin, followed by araiding party of Boches.
Shortly after the Khaki Boys had taken up their positions on thefire-step, the German guns began a furious bombardment of the Americantrench, forcing the men to shelter themselves behind the parados.The parados, in this particular trench, were composed of squares ofsandbags built up at intervals for a distance of about three feetbehind the parapet, leaving a lane in the trench just wide enough forpassage back and forth behind them. These parados did much to avertcasualties caused from bits of bursting high-explosive shells.
The American batteries lost no time in opening up on the Germans,returning their fire with equal fury. For a while the din was terrific.Shells screamed overhead, causing a pandemonium of racket. Bursting,their fire made No Man's Land almost as light as day. In the trenchmany Sammies were dropping, wounded or killed by pieces of explodingshell. The Khaki Boys were receiving their baptism of fire in earnest.
It was a battle in which the Sammies themselves took small part, saveto crouch in the trench, shielding themselves as best they could fromthat devastating rain of fire. The noise was too great for them to makethemselves heard in passing an order, save by cupping hands to mouthand yelling as loudly as they could.
For an hour each side continued to bombard the other's trenches. Allalong the parapet of the American trench yawning gaps began to appear.As fast as one was made, men set to work upon it to repair the damagebefore dawn should appear and expose the Sammies to the rifle andmachine-gun fire of the Boches.
The Khaki Boys turned to with a will. Some filled sandbags with mud,others rebuilt the shattered parados and stopped the gaps in theparapet. Toiling with desperate energy, they could only hope that theAmerican guns were doing much heavier damage to the Fritzies' firetrench. They had faith that their own artillery could register moretelling hits than that of the enemy.
Considering the number of shells that the Germans were sending over,many of them had been aimed in the direction of the flare from theAmerican batteries. These passed right over the trenches. The Americanguns continuing to keep up a constant thundering, it looked as thoughthe Boches had not succeeded in wiping out any of these batteries.
The gray light of dawn showed first glimpse of the enemy trenches. Itwas a sight that cheered the Sammies immensely. Gap after gap yawned inthe parapet of their fire trench, through which could be seen plainlythe forms of German soldiers, hurrying back and forth or toilingdesperately to re-establish a protecting wall between themselves andthe Sammies.
If the Boches had intended to raid it seemed evident that they hadgiven it up as a bad job and devoted themselves strictly to thebusiness of playing safe.
With daylight their guns suddenly became silent. The American batterieswent on hammering at them, however, for some time after the Bocheartillery had ceased firing.
The dilapidation of the Boche fire trench gave the Sammies theopportunity for which they had been waiting. They now began to poura hot rifle and machine-gun fire at the enemy, inflicting heavycasualties. The German batteries immediately got busy with smoke shellsand soon hung a curtain of heavy smoke in front of their lines, whichcompletely obstructed a view of their trenches.
Through the smoke the Sammies continued to harass the foe, until theorder came to cease firing. Though the Americans had suffered a goodmany casualties, the Germans had clicked a far greater number. Theirproposed raid had ended in a sound drubbing for them. When night againfell they would have the pleasure of mending the wires they had beenin such a hurry to cut, provided they did not make a second attempt toraid within the next few hours.
Of late these night raids had become a new feature in the war.Beginning with a heavy bombardment, the attacking troops would dashover the top, take the enemy trenches, make thorough search of them,capturing as many prisoners and machine guns as possible. Instead ofoccupying the trenches taken, these would be destroyed by fire ordynamite, the victors returning to their own lines.
It was such a raid as this that the Germans had been on the point ofmaking. Thanks to the efficient work of the American batteries, theyhad not been able to carry it out.
When it was all over and comparative quiet had again settled down onboth sides, Jimmy Blaise was amazed to find himself not only alive butunhurt. Through those terrible hours he had seen comrades droppingon both sides of him, yet, somehow, he had come through that raginghail of shot and shell unscathed. He marveled that, while it had beengoing on, he had worked like a tiger at helping rebuild the shattereddefenses without a thought that he might be living his last moments oflife.
After firing a final shot and getting down from the fire step, hestared about in a half-dazed fashion. To and fro through the firetrench stretcher-bearers moved continually, bearing the shell-shatteredsoldiers away through the communication trenches to first-ai
d posts.Many a bloody form lifted gently to the stretchers was beyond human aid.
Jimmy's first coherent thoughts centered on his own men. He must findout what had happened to them. Pulling himself together he began aninvestigation. He soon discovered that he had lost four of them forgood and all. Several others had been seriously wounded. Like himselfa few had come out of the fray untouched. For a time he busied himselfin doing what he could for the wounded, until relieved by the first-aidmen.
The aroma of coffee in the air brought him to a dim realization that itwas breakfast time. He was not hungry. Who could be after seeing thosebroken, bloody shapes being lifted to the stretchers? He felt as thoughhe would not be able to eat for a week afterward.
"Thank God, Blazes, you're not one of 'em!"
A friendly hand clutched his arm.
At the sound of the familiar but rather unsteady tones and the touchof a hand Jimmy whirled to find Bob beside him. The latter's face wasgrimy, a little stream of blood trickled down one cheek from a shallowgash high up toward his left eye.
"Bob!" Jimmy grabbed his bunkie and fairly hugged him. "You're hurt!"he exclaimed.
"Just a scratch. I can hardly feel it. A Fritzie bullet shinned past meand broke the skin. I just used my first-aid dressing on a fellow in mysquad."
"Let me fix you up."
Jimmy hurriedly reached for his first-aid packet, took from it his lastbit of antiseptic gauze and applied it to the bleeding gash, carefulnot to touch it with his fingers. As Bob had declared, it was hardlymore than a scratch.
"I'd plaster it up," he said, as he staunched the bleeding, "but you'dbetter hike down to first-aid post and have it looked after there. Youmustn't run chances of infection."
"I started for first-aid when I bumped into you. You're a welcomesight, believe me, Blazes!" Bob spoke with an intensity of affection."I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you standing there. Nota scratch on you, you good old scout! How any of us managed to livethrough that fracas beats me. Under fire, at last! Well, I guess so!"
"Maybe I'm not just as glad to see you!" Jimmy's gray eyes shone. Hisbrief flash of joy changing to anxiety he asked: "Bob, have you seenany of the fellows? We've got to find out----"
"Rodge is all right," Bob quickly responded. "I saw him right afterthings quieted down. He's looking up Schnitz and Iggy now. As soon asI get this Boche memento plastered up I'm to meet him at the dugout wewere in yesterday. He'll have found out about the boys by then."
"Go to it and get plastered, then. I'm going after Rodge. Look outwhile you're in the communication trench. If you hear a whishingsound, duck for cover. The Boches are likely to send over shrapnel,'cause they know the stretcher men are using that communication trenchnow."
"Duck's the word. See you at the dugout."
With a wave of his hand, Bob hurried away. Jimmy watched him for asecond, then started up the trench toward the dugout he and his bunkieshad been using since their arrival in the trenches.
All the way he encountered stretcher men, busy with their ghastly work.Three times he stopped to aid them in lifting a wounded Sammy to astretcher. By the time he reached the dugout he was feeling sick at thestomach. It was the sickness of fear, however. With every bleeding formhe had seen, his heart had been in his throat lest in it he recognizeIggy or Schnitz.
Finally reaching the dugout, he was about to enter when he spied Rogercoming down the trench toward him. Behind Roger were two disheveled,grim-faced men, whom he nevertheless recognized. Despite therestriction against using a handkerchief to staunch bleeding, one ofthem was holding that forbidden bit of linen to his cheek.
Uttering a shout, Jimmy ran toward them. "Oh, you fellows!" was hisheartfelt cry of relief. "It takes more than a Boche thunderstorm toput the five Brothers out of business!"