D.C.M.
The two men had almost reached the clump of trees when they heard the
thud of horses' hoofs approaching them from the front. They instantly
dropped flat into one of the furrows of the stubble field. Two horsemen
galloped round the corner of the clump, and rode down towards the
railway, passing within twenty yards of the fugitives.
Waiting breathlessly until the horsemen had gone out of hearing, the two
got up, and, still bending low, hurried over the few yards between them
and the clump and plunged among the trees.
"We shall have to get back to-night, by hook or crook," whispered
Kenneth. "They'll track us down as soon as it is light.... Listen!"
From beyond the clump came the steady tramp of a considerable body of
men. Was it possible that the Germans were on their track already? For
a few moments they were unable to decide in what direction the men were
going. The sounds became gradually fainter, receding towards the
railway. Apparently a detachment had been dispatched towards the scene
of the conflagration.
They stole towards the western side of the clump, and, standing within
the shadow of the trees, looked out across the country. The moon was
still up, obscured at moments by drifting clouds. Far ahead, a little
to their left, they could just distinguish the tower of the ruined
church. Still farther to the left the moonbeams revealed the roofs of
the small village which the church served, and in which, no doubt,
German soldiers were billeted. Lying on the eastern slope of a low
hill, it was invisible from the British lines, but Kenneth remembered
having seen its position marked on the map.
"It's past two o'clock," said Kenneth, glancing at his watch. "The moon
won't go down for hours, and it will be light by six. We simply must get
back before sunrise. All we can do is to creep along the shady side of
the hedges and take our chance."
After a good look round, they left the trees and hurried to the shelter
of the nearest hedge. Being now on lower ground, they could no longer
see the church: but they judged their general direction by the compass,
and made their best speed. Once they found themselves in a field
completely surrounded by a hedge. Forcing their way through at the cost
of many scratches, they fell some five feet into a ditch that the hedge
concealed, and sank over their ankles in slimy mud. They scrambled up
the other side, the brambles tearing their skin and clothes, and tramped
on again.
It was nearly an hour before they came once more in sight of the church,
farther to the left than they had expected. Their best course seemed to
be to try to find the communication trench by which they had come.
Keeping always on the shady side of the hedges, they paused only to
glance towards the tower, to see if the light was still showing, then
turned their backs on it and hurried on.
They came to a stretch of open ground on which there was no cover of any
kind, and knew that they were now near the trenches. The most
nerve-racking portion of their journey was before them. They dared not
go erect, in the moonlight. If they should stumble unawares upon an
occupied trench it was all up with them. Throwing themselves on the
ground, they crawled forward by painful inches, stopping every few
seconds to listen. Once the scurry of some wild creature across their
front tightened their hearts and sent a cold thrill along their spines.
Presently they heard the murmur of voices on their right, and instantly
edged to the left, only to be brought to a check after a few minutes by
voices in that direction also. Had the rearmost trenches been manned
during their absence?
Aching in every limb, they crawled still more slowly over the ground.
At last they encountered a ridge of broken earth, and stopped, holding
their breath. There was no sound near them; faint murmurs came from a
distance. Harry cautiously raised his head, crept forward a few inches,
and whispered--
"A trench!"
They peered over. The trench was empty. Sliding into it, they ran along
to the left, and presently struck a trench at right angles. This too
was empty. They halted at the corner to listen, then hurried along
until they had almost reached the second trench. A man, by his figure
an officer, turned from it into the communication trench, and walked
rapidly towards the firing line. They pressed themselves against the
wall.
"Making his rounds," whispered Kenneth. "Our best chance is to follow
him."
"We've come right," said Harry. "There's the water."
A bank of cloud veiled the moon. They hoped it would not pass for the
few minutes during which darkness would be so precious a boon. They
heard the officer splashing through the water at the further end of the
trench, and crept after him as rapidly as they dared. He turned into
the firing trench. Voices were heard. There was great risk in crossing
the trench, and it occurred to Harry that it would be less dangerous to
clamber over the embankment on their left and wade through a few yards
of the pond, which could not be very deep thereabout. If the moon
remained in cloud, they would not be seen from the trench behind the
pond. Accordingly, two or three yards from the angle of the trenches,
they swarmed up the bank, and began to let themselves down on the other
side, clinging to the earth so that they should not drop heavily.
Then fortune deserted them. The earth crumbled in Kenneth's grasp, and
he fell into the water with a great splash. Harry at once flung himself
face downwards, and the two crawled through several inches of water
towards the dry land. The light was increasing as the thinner end of
the cloud moved slowly across the moon. Crushing their inclination to
jump to their feet and sprint over the ground towards their trench, they
scampered along on all fours. And then the unveiled moon flooded the
scene with light.
Shouts came from behind them. Shots rang out, and pattered around them.
A bullet carried off the heel of Harry's boot. Still they wriggled on.
They were conscious of sounds in front. The trench was alive. A hand
grenade fell just behind them, bespattering them with earth. Yard by
yard they dragged themselves over the ground; here was the wire
entanglement. As they drew themselves under it, a bullet struck one of
the tin cans suspended from the top. There were only a few yards now.
From right and left a hail of bullets flew from the British trench.
They reached the parapet.
[Illustration: A LONG WAY BACK]
"Steady!" whispered Kennedy. "Keep flat for a moment."
But the caution was vain. After coming a hundred yards under fire they
thought of nothing but the safety of the trench. They crawled on, over
into friendly arms. Bullets sang around them.
"Pipped!" exclaimed Kenneth, as something stung his shoulder.
But next moment they were safe, dropping exhausted on to the banquette.
And then the air was rent by a storm of cheers hurled defiantly at the
Germans.
"Good men!" said Kennedy, as he helped Kenneth to pull off his coat.
"You're a lucky fellow, by George! It's little more than a graze. I
didn't expect to see you back. Ah! here's the captain."
Captain Adams came up.
"Amory hurt? A mere scratch, I see. It was a tight moment. You seemed
an age crawling up. But come now, have you anything to report?"
"Ammunition depot blown up, sir."
"That was the row we heard, then," the captain interrupted. "We thought
it must have been an accident, as no firing was going on at the time."
"And to the best of our knowledge and belief, the gun is done for."
"You don't say so! Talk, man; a round unvarnished tale deliver. Oh,
but this is good!"
The captain was evidently excited. Kenneth and Harry between them
related the whole sequence of their adventures, to an audience of the
captain, two lieutenants, and as many men of the platoon as could come
within earshot. When the story was finished, another roar of cheers
burst forth, which was taken up along the trench far on both sides,
though the most of the shouting men could not have known as yet what
they were cheering for.
"A dashed fine piece of work," said the captain, warmly. "It's a
feather in the cap of No. 3 Company, and certain promotion for you two
men. You'll have to see the colonel to-morrow, when we get back to
billets. Go into the Savoy and sleep; you deserve a day's rest, and you
shall have it."
When they reappeared among their comrades next day a broad grin welcomed
them.
"You do look uncommon pretty," said Ginger. "I never see anyone like
you except once, and that was when a chap I knew got drunk at the fair,
had a fight with another chap, tumbled into a blackberry bush on the way
home, and was found by a copper in the ditch after it had been raining
all night. Your best gals would fair scream at the sight of you. 'Oh
George, dear, where did you get them scratches? You've been a-fighting,
you horrid creature, you!' 'No, Sally, I've had a little bit of
misfortune.' 'Rats! You won't get over me. I'd be ashamed to be seen
along of you, with a face like that. I'll walk out with Bill next
Sunday, so there!' And off she goes, and on Monday morning you get hold
of Bill and spoil his beauty for him, and then there's a pair of you."
Everybody laughed, and the two dirty and disfigured objects concerned
understood that that was Ginger's way of paying a compliment.
On returning to the village at the close of the day, they had only just
washed and got rid of some of the mud from their clothes when the
colonel sent for them. They had to repeat their story.
"I don't happen to have any Iron Crosses," said the colonel, "but I'm
going to recommend you for commissions. Officers are badly wanted
still, and you've got over that nonsense of a few months back?"
"Not at all, sir," said Kenneth. "We're bound by our promise."
"Ridiculous! I don't mean that you are ridiculous to keep your word,
but to give such a promise was a piece of confounded stupidity. Why,
goodness alive! after what you've done the men would follow you
anywhere."
"It's very good of you, sir," Kenneth replied, "but really we must stick
to what we said."
"Not that I want to lose you from my regiment. Well, I shall have to
get Captain Adams to give you your stripes. You won't object to that?"
"I'm afraid we must, sir. You see, anything that gave us a lift over
the other men would be a breach of the understanding."
"Well, you're a couple of young jackasses. I hope I'm a man of my word,
but---- Oh well, have it your own way! Virtue shall be its own reward.
You've relieved the whole battalion of a great worry and danger, and I'm
uncommonly obliged to you."
It was not until some weeks later that the two friends learnt that their
names had appeared in the _Gazette_ among a list of men recommended for
the distinguished conduct medal. Their refusal of promotion had become
known to their comrades, and it was observed that Ginger and some of his
friends often had their heads together, and appeared to be conducting
delicate negotiations with the men of the other platoons.