Engagements in the World War were on such a vast scale that it was
difficult for a single observer to give a word picture of them. All he
could see, stationed behind the lines, was a vast cataclysm of smoke
and fire, and his ears were deafened by so vast a sound that it was
comparable to nothing on this earth ever heard before.
An observer in the air was little better off, save for that portion
directly beneath him, and even that he could not see very much of, on
account of the smoke and dust. If he looked to the left or the right, or
backward or forward, he was at the disadvantage of distance.
To him, then, great columns of infantry appeared only as crawling worms,
and batteries of artillery merely patches of woods whence belched fire
and smoke. That he must keep high in the air when over the enemy's lines
went without saying, for he would be fired at if he came too low. So
then, even an airman's vision was limited when it came to describing a
great battle.
Of course he always did what he was assigned to do. He kept in contact,
or in communication, with his own certain batteries, or his infantry
division, directing the shots of the former and the advance of the
latter. So, really, he had little time to observe anything save the
effect of the firing of his own side on a certain limited objective.
As for the soldiers in battle, they are, of course, unable to observe
anything except that which goes on immediately in their neighborhood.
The artilleryman fires his gun under the direction of some observer,
often far away, who telephones to him to lower or elevate his piece, or
deflect it to the tight or left. The infantryman advances as the barrage
lifts, and rushes forward according to orders, firing or using his
bayonet as the case may be, digging in when halted, and waiting for
another rush forward. The machine gunner and his squad aim to put as
many of the advancing, retreating, or standing enemy out of the fighting
as possible, and to save themselves.
The truck men hasten up with loads of ammunition, fortunate if they are
not sent to their death in the drive. The stretcher bearers look for the
wounded and hasten back with them.
So, all in all, no single person can observe more than a very small part
of the great battle. It is really like looking through a microscope
at some organism, while the whole great body lies beyond the field of
vision.
Only the general staff-the officers in their headquarters far behind
the lines, who receive reports as to how this division or corps is
retreating or advancing--can have any real conception of the big battle,
and these persons may see it only at a distance.
So the usual process of things in general is reversed, and the person
farthest removed from the fighting may really see, or rather know, most
about it.
And so with a storm of shot and shell, manmade thunders and lightnings,
and bolts of death from the earth below and the air above, the great
battle opened and advanced.
It progressed just as other battles had progressed. There was a terrific
artillery preparation, which took the Germans evidently by surprise,
for the response was long in coming, and then it was not in proportion.
After the great cannon had done their best to level the big guns on the
German side, a barrage, or curtain of fire was started, and behind this,
which was in reality a falling hail of bullets, the Americans and their
supporting French and British comrades advanced. The curtain of steel
was to kill or push back the Germans, and to make it safe for the
Americans to go forward. By elevating the small guns the curtain fell
farther and farther into the enemy's territory, thus making it possible
for the Allies to go on farther and farther across No Man's Land.
The infantry rushed forward, fighting and dying nobly in a noble cause.
Position after position was consolidated as the Germans fell back before
the rain of shot and shell. It is always this way in an offensive, small
or large. The first rush of the attacking side, be it German, French,
British, or American, carries everything before it. It is the counter
attack that tells. If the attackers are strong enough to hold what they
gain, well and good. If not--the attack is a failure.
But this one--the first great attack of the Americans--was not destined
to fail, though once it trembled in the balance.
Tom and Jack, with their companions, had flown aloft, and, taking the
stations assigned to them, did their part in the battle. As the light
grew with the break of day, they could see the effect of the American
big guns. It was devastating. And yet some German batteries lived
through it. Several times Tom and Jack, by means of their wireless,
sent back corrections so that the American pieces might be aimed more
effectively. Below them was a maelstrom--an indescribable chaos of death
and destruction. They only had glimpses of it--glimpses of a seemingly
inextricable mixture of men and guns.
And through it all, though they did not for a moment neglect their duty,
bearing in mind their instructions to keep in contact with the batteries
they served, Tom Raymond and Jack Parmly were eagerly seeking for a
sight of the prison where Harry Leroy might be held. At one time after
they had dropped bombs on some German positions, thereby demolishing
them, Tom, who was acting as pilot, signaled to his chum that he was
going far over the enemy's lines to try to locate the prison.
Jack nodded an acquiescence. It was not entirely against orders what
they were about to do. They might obtain valuable information, and it
would take only a short time, so speedy was their machine. Then too,
they had used up all their bombs, and must return for more. Before doing
this they wished to make an observation.
Luck was with them. They managed to pass over a comparatively quiet
sector of the lines where the German resistance had been wiped out, and
where, even as they looked down, Americans were digging in and guns were
being brought up to support them.
And not many kilometers inside the German positions from this point,
they sailed over a prison camp. They, knew it in an instant, and felt
sure it must be the one spoken of by the German who had taken Leroy's
gold and then betrayed him.
“That's the place!” cried Tom, though of course Jack could not hear him.
“Now to bomb it and set Harry free!”
But they must return for more ammunition, and this they set about doing.
They wished they might drop some word to the prisoners confined there,
stating that help might soon be on its way to them, but they had no
chance to send this cheering word.
Back they rushed to their own lines, and no sooner had they landed than
an orderly rushed up to them and instructed them to report immediately
to their commanding officer.
“Boys, you're just in time!” he cried, all dignity or formality having
been set aside in the excitement of the great battle.
“What is it?” asked Tom.
“We want you to silence some big German guns--a nasty battery of them
that's playing havoc with our boys. The artillery hasn't been able to
locate 'em--probably they're too well camouflaged. And we can't advance
against 'em. Will you go up and try to put them out of business?”
Of course there could be but one answer to this. Tom and Jack hurried
off to see to the loading of their machine with bombs--an extra large
number of very powerful ones being taken.
Once more they were off on their dangerous mission, for it was
dangerous, since many American planes were brought down by German fire
that day, and by attacks from other Hun machines.
But Tom and Jack never faltered. Up and up they went, the probable
location of the guns having been made known to them on the map they
carried. Up and onward they went. For a time they must forego the chance
of rescuing their friend.
Straight for the indicated place they went, and just as they reached
it there came a burst of fire and smoke. It appeared to roll out from
a little ravine well wooded on both sides, and that accounted for the
failure of the Americans to locate it. Chance had played into the hands
of the air service boys.
There was no need of word between Tom and Jack. The former headed the
plane for the place whence the German guns had fired upon the Americans,
killing and wounding many.
Over it, for an instant, hovered the aeroplane. Then Jack touched the
bomb releasing device. Down dropped the powerful explosive.
There was a great upward blast of air which rocked the machine in which
sat the two aviators. There was a burst of smoke and flame beneath them,
tongues of fire seeming to reach up as though to pull them down.
Then came a terrific explosion which almost deafened the boys, even
though their ears were covered with the fur caps, and though their own
engine made a pandemonium of sound.
The air was filled with flying debris--debris of the German guns and
men. The bombs dropped by Tom and Jack had accomplished their mission.
The harassing battery was destroyed. The German guns were silenced.