A LIVELY CAMP BEHIND THE LINES
Such accidents are of common occurrence on the battlefields. However
carefully the shells may be made to insure their explosion at the
instant for which they are timed, something often happens with many of
them that prevents it.
Ralph was too dazed to have any feelings about the matter, except
the faintest idea that he ought to do something to help his chum. It
did not at that time, nor for hours thereafter, seem to be anything
dreadful, nor did it occur to him that Alfred might be dead.
After all he had seen during the day, this was a mere matter-of-fact
occurrence, something that might happen to any one, particularly on a
battlefield.
When he again recovered consciousness, he saw a dim light close by his
bedside, and noticed some moving figures. Then he looked about and
glanced upward. The ceiling was white and clean, and a woman with a
neat white cap and gown stood beside his bed, and smiled at him. This
was, indeed, strange. He couldn't have been hurt, for he felt no pain.
"Do you feel better now?" said a sweet voice.
That seemed to break the charm. "Why,—yes; I am feeling well; but what
has happened? Where am I? and,—and—where's Alfred? Oh, yes; I know
now; something happened a little while ago. Where is he?" said Ralph,
as he tried to move.
"Alfred is across there; he is sleeping now. He will be all right in a
few weeks," said the nurse.
Ralph looked at her for a time without replying. He seemed to be
gathering his thoughts. He raised up his arm, and noticed that it
was bandaged. He dropped it and glanced up at the nurse. "We had an
accident a few minutes ago, didn't we?" he asked.
"That was two days ago," replied the nurse. "But you are all right now.
We were a little worried at first, because it was impossible to tell just
where or how you were hurt; but now you'll get well, so don't worry."
"Will Alfred, too?" he asked eagerly.
"He is mending rapidly, but his injuries are more severe than yours.
Every one here is so anxious and inquires about you," remarked the
nurse.
"Why, who are looking out for us? Where are we? What place is this?" he
asked wonderingly.
"This is the town of Corbie, north of Amiens. The lieutenant of your
battery was badly shaken up, but he is all right now and left this
afternoon. But you must be quiet; a hospital is a bad place to be
excited in," said the nurse.
"Yes, I know that. We have been in the hospital before. This isn't the
first time," said Ralph.
"Is that you, Ralph?" said a weak voice.
"That's Alfred, I know. And how are you?" asked Ralph.
"All right. I thought you'd never wake up. I'm all right now," said
Alfred.
"Now be quiet," said the nurse soothingly. "The doctor says you must
not do anything to excite yourselves."
The night passed without incident. In the morning Alfred's cot was
moved over adjoining the one on which Ralph lay.
"Now you can talk all you want to, but sleep whenever you can,"
remarked the nurse, as they were comfortably fixed.
"Say, Alfred, did you have any pain at all after the thing went off?"
asked Ralph.
"Not the slightest bit; the first thing I knew I found myself here all
fixed up, and heard a band playing outside," said Alfred.
"So they have a band here?" inquired Ralph.
"Yes, indeed; and a dandy one, too; say, did you have anything to eat
yesterday?" asked Alfred.
"I don't know; and there's another thing I know; I'm mighty hungry now.
When did that thing happen?" asked Ralph.
"Day before yesterday; no, the day before that," replied Alfred.
"Well, then, I don't think I've had anything to eat since then. My, but
I'm hungry," said Ralph.
"There she is; she's coming; look at that big tray," said Alfred with
glistening eyes.
"I thought you'd relish something about this time," said the nurse as
she deposited the tray on the folding table and wheeled it near their
cots.
"Well, I should guess so, after not having had anything to eat for
three days," said Ralph.
"Why, you ate a fairly good meal yesterday noon," replied the nurse.
"What? _I_ did?" said Ralph, looking at Alfred in an amused manner, and
then at the nurse. He shook his head, and continued: "Well, if you say
so it must be so; but I never knew it."
"No; of course, you didn't remember; well, we see so many instances of
this kind. It is really strange," continued the nurse, "how men will
forget everything, not even know their names, and still will not forget
to eat. That seems to be a law of nature,—the first law,—the one of
self-preservation."
"Well, even if I did eat right along this tastes as though I hadn't
taken a meal for a month," said Ralph.
There were many curious cases in the hospital,—forms of disease
developed by the war that were novel even to the doctors.
Two weeks thereafter, when Ralph had entirely recovered, and Alfred was
able to go out for short walks, they had many conversations with the
doctor.
One day while returning from a jaunt they encountered him, just as
a patient was brought into the hospital, who was staring about and
screaming wildly.
"Is that a crazy man?" asked Alfred.
"Not exactly," replied the doctor. "It is a peculiar mania, however. We
had several dozens of cases the day after the great drive,—in fact, at
the very time you were brought here,—of Germans who were brought in
suffering from that ailment."
"What is it?" asked Ralph.
"It has been called 'War Psychosis,'" answered the doctor.
"What is the cause of it?" asked Ralph.
"I suppose it is brought about by the patient being compelled to
witness the most terrible sights," answered the doctor. "It occurs
where the man has a peculiarly sensitive or nervous organization."
"A man like that cannot be very brave, I suppose," said Alfred.
"It is not that at all. Lack of bravery, or fear has nothing to do with
it. I have seen the strongest men break down under it," said the doctor.
"Is it a fatal disease?" asked Alfred.
"No, it seems to leave them almost as suddenly as they are affected by
it. Do you see that tall man over to the left—the one who is swinging
his head to and fro, and staring at those about him?"
"Yes, I have frequently watched him during the week," said Ralph.
"He is a typical case," said the doctor. "He is an Alsatian, and
belonged to the first reserves. He was a first-class shot, as well as a
member of the battery when in the service. At the breaking out of the
war he joined the colors at once. His battery was in the thickest of
the fighting from and after the Marne. He saw all the slaughter about
him, and at first became moody. His boon companion was a neighbor's
boy, Tony, who carried the ammunition.
"One day a shell exploded near the battery and poor Tony was killed.
This did not seem to affect him much, and he looked around listlessly
when they buried the boy. The next day another shell exploded near him,
tearing the captain to pieces, and wounding three of his companions.
Instantly he leaped forward toward the enemy, and had to be restrained
and forcibly carried back of the line, where he was taken charge of by
the hospital attendants. That happened less than a week ago. We had to
bind him hand and foot, but he is better now, and will be all right
again in another week. There are thousands of such cases."
Some days hundreds of patients would be sent away,—taken to Paris,
or to some of the great hospitals, where the best of care could be
bestowed. In fact, all cases which were expected to require weeks to
effect a cure, had to be sent to the base hospitals, or the field
hospitals would be overcrowded.
The boys were only too glad now to relinquish their cots in the general
ward and take a room in the convalescent ward. From that place they
would wander out and watch the great processions of soldiers as they
passed on to the front.
"I wonder why it is that we don't see any French soldiers around here
lately?" remarked Alfred.
"I was thinking about that very thing," said Ralph. "We must inquire
about that."
Inquiry developed the fact that the English had been extending their
lines, and now occupied the front in that section down to the area over
which the French had made their last successful drive.
"Do you know where the 14th French battery has gone?" asked Ralph of an
attendant, when they returned to the hospital.
"I really do not know, but I understand that they are now near Noyen,
or in that region," was the reply.
A week thereafter the boys, now fully satisfied, left the hospital, and,
as the doctor handed them their certificates of discharge, he remarked:
"The lieutenant sent your things to us the day they left the ridge. The
attendant will get them for you."
They had entirely forgotten that they owned anything. The two packages
were found intact, together with a note of regret from the lieutenant,
and from the men of the 14th battery. It was a gratifying thing to
receive, and greatly appreciated by the boys.
On the road they walked along toward the reserve camp two miles to the
north, during which they met numerous fellow pedestrians, of all sorts,
conditions and characteristics. Peddlers, hucksters, dealers in all
sorts of wares, tradesmen, a few carpenters with their tools, going
and coming, and this over a road which in normal times would not have a
dozen visitors during the day. The vast army to the east brought trade
to many inhabitants.
They were particularly interested in a peddler, who plied his trade
with considerable energy. He would push to the front whenever a troop
of soldiers appeared, offering his wares, and, after each sale, or when
he had completed his canvass of a troop, would swing off his pack, take
out the money, and count it. Then, invariably, he would draw out a
pencil, note down something on the wrapper in which the money was kept,
shoulder his pack, and march on.
"That fellow is the most particular man I ever met," remarked Ralph. "I
suppose he puts down every sou he receives. He is what I would call a
tightwad."
"Perhaps not that, but just a trifle careful," responded Alfred.
It was an amusing experience to the boys, as they watched his
procedure. It was always the same and never varied. The camp was in
sight, and they left the road to visit it, but before entering the
grounds they sat down to rest, and while there the peddler passed them.
The boys waited until a regiment of newly arrived English entered
the gateway, before they rose and followed. The peddler was on hand
the moment the regiment halted, and obsequiously passed down the
line offering his wares. They noticed that although there were no
purchasers, nevertheless the peddler went through the same formula of
making a notation on the paper, which was used as a wrapper for the
money.
Parked at one side was an immense train of the well-known English
three-inch guns, the counterpart of the French 75's which did such
terrific execution several weeks previous to this time, as heretofore
related.
"There are the flyers," said Ralph, as he pointed to an open field to
the east.
"Let's have a look at them," responded Alfred.
As they were crossing the ground, Alfred stopped. "There is the old
peddler again. He is a diligent fellow, sure enough," he said.
Although there were only twenty machines on the ground, they could see
from the vans within view that many more were awaiting the unpacking
process. Here, as elsewhere, the peddler appeared.
Ralph stopped and gazed at the man for a few moments. "Alfred," he
said, "somehow I don't like that fellow's actions. What business has he
here if he is really a peddler?"
"That fellow's a spy, or there is something the matter with him,"
replied Alfred. "Do you know I have had my suspicions ever since the
regiment came in."
"Why?" asked Ralph.
"For this simple reason: did you observe that he went through the
entire regiment without making a single sale?" asked Alfred.
"Yes, I saw that," answered Ralph.
"Well, after he got through with them, he took out his money just the
same and made a note on the paper," answered Alfred.
"That does look very strange," replied Ralph. "He will bear watching."
"Suppose we follow him and see what he has to sell?" suggested Alfred.
As they neared him the peddler had reached a group of assistants and
threw off the pack, displaying a collection of wares, such as needles,
pins, handkerchiefs, and like articles of utility likely to be used by
soldiers and officers.
"That looks innocent enough," observed Ralph.
A sale was made, the change passed over, and the inevitable paper
package drawn out, followed by a pencil, which was used, apparently, to
note the amount of the sale.
He was followed to the space where the artillery was parked.
"That fellow may be all right, but he looks queer to me," said Ralph.
"Suppose we count the number of guns here and their calibre."
Alfred paused, and looked at Ralph with a cynical grin. "What for? Do
you think he will carry any of them away?" he asked.
"Never mind; let's count them," answered Ralph.
"Then, why not count the airships, those in the vans as well,"
returned Alfred, now smiling and catching the meaning of this proposed
investigation.
"Yes; go over at once; I will attend to the guns. Meet me at the stand.
I see he is going over in that quarter," replied Ralph.
The latter took particular note of the Long 3's, as they were known
technically. There were forty-two. Eight howitzers were under cover
at one end of the line, as well as three mounted, heavy-calibre guns,
which Ralph judged might be at least eight-inch bore. He entered the
sheet-iron warehouse at the end of the field, as the peddler emerged
from it at a side door.
Within was stored an immense quantity of trench equipments, a row of
newly devised bomb-throwers being conspicuously displayed at one end
of the warehouse. Ralph counted them. "There are certainly more than a
hundred; I may have missed some of them," he remarked to himself.
As he marched across the open space to the stand which had been selected
as the meeting place, he saw Alfred awaiting him. The latter seemed to
be greatly excited, and the moment Ralph was sighted he ran over.
"Do you know who is at the hangar?" he said.
"No; I can't guess," answered Ralph.
"Joe; don't you remember Joe; the American that we made our first
flight with up at Dunkirk? He is over at the hangar and wants to see
you," said Alfred.
"All right; let's go over," replied Ralph. "But did you count them?"
"No; but Joe gave me the information; eight Sopwith tractors, ten
Bristols, and six B. E.'s, all set up. Tomorrow they will unpack eight
more Sopwiths and six Bristols. That makes a total of thirty-nine," was
Alfred's answer.
"What do you think? That fellow was coming out of the warehouse the
minute I got there. Do you suppose he thought there was any peddling
business over there?" said Ralph with some determination in his voice.