PHIL’S STRATEGY
Again we find Phil and Tim within easy gun-roar of the battle line. But
this time they are on the “other side of No Man’s Land.” And the roar is
becoming louder and louder. Early one morning it burst forth with great
volume. The hiding refugees had not realized they were so near the
fighting front until this noisy evidence of proximity burst upon them.
There had been comparative quiet for several weeks. The boches had made
their grand effort to break through the French line in the vicinity of
Chateau Thierry. At this place it had seemed as if they were about to
effect their purpose until two divisions of American Marines were
brought up to relieve the French. Then the enemy was forced to a
standstill, beyond which he was unable thereafter to advance a foot.
Of all this the fugitives knew nothing, and their knowledge of
succeeding developments was quite as limited, save for the indications
of sound or silence from the battle area. When finally the unmistakable
evidence of another big battle reached their ears, they were quartered
in several buildings in the business section of a town a few miles from
the boche rear lines. They had selected these buildings with a view to
their special serviceability because of facilities for concealment,
intercommunication and defense or escape in case of attack.
There was no need of a crier to announce the long awaited event when
finally it came. Everybody was on the alert almost in an instant. All
day the roar of battle continued without abatement, but the hidden
fugitives had no way to determine how it was going. At dusk several
scouts were sent on ahead to reconnoiter, but they were unable to obtain
any information of definite character except that, it appeared, the
enemy had launched a new drive against the Allies in the “great bend.”
The battle continued with unabating fury the next day and the next and
the next. Finally two French soldiers, who said they were well
acquainted with the vicinity and who spoke German fluently, donned enemy
uniforms that they had taken from the bodies of slain boches, and set
out under cover of the darkness to learn what was the situation.
“The battle of Chateau Thierry is being fought and it is being won by
American Marines,” they reported on their return after several hours’
absence.
“Marines!” was the exclamation uttered by every American that received
this message. They had not known that two divisions of fellow Sea
Soldiers had stopped the enemy advance on Paris at this point more than
a month before and, backed up with reinforcements, were now given the
task of driving back the enemy in a sector where other veteran allied
troops had failed.
For several days more they continued in hiding and fared pretty well
meanwhile, all things considered. They managed to gather food enough,
such as it was, to keep soul and body together without any “internal
quarrel,” and they also gathered in a good supply of arms from the
strewn battlefields of the vicinity; so that, emboldened by numbers and
reports of successes of their friends on the other side of No Man’s
Land, they felt like attacking a whole boche army in the rear.
Then at last came the announcement from scouts that the enemy was being
driven back, slowly, it is true, but surely, and after this information
reached them, it was not long before visual evidence of the retreat
loomed before them over the western horizon.
This was followed by a tense waiting of several hours; then the boche
soldiers began to pour into the ruined town.
“They’ll make a stand here, no doubt,” Phil remarked to several of his
comrades; “and that means we’ll have to begin to get busy before very
long. The Allies no doubt will train their heavy guns on this place, and
we’ll get our share of the shelling. What we want to do is to spring a
surprise on the enemy that will create consternation among them and make
them think an attacking army has dropped out of the clouds on top of
them.”
It was ticklish business, this waiting for the psychological moment
which might be wiped out of future possibility almost any instant by the
dropping of a few bombs that would heap masses of debris on top of them
and convert their refuge into a tomb. Then suddenly Phil hit on a scheme
that probably proved their salvation.
The two French scouts who had brought back information regarding the
success of the Americans at Chateau Thierry were sent out again after
they had volunteered for this second service planned by Sergeant Speed.
How they accomplished their mission is subject almost for another book,
for theirs was clever work, indeed. But they were aided materially by
the confusion of the boches resulting from their recent defeat and the
necessity for quick preparations for a new defense.
These two Frenchmen, Rene La Ferre and Pierre Balsot, made their way in
Prussian uniforms through the newly forming enemy front and offered
themselves as prisoners to a squad of Yanks who had just raided a
machine-gun nest and were about to return to their own lines. They were
hurried to headquarters, where they told their story. Their description
of the location of the hiding place of the fugitive was so accurate that
the American artillery was able to blow up the rest of the town without
materially damaging the refuge of the 240 United States Marines and
Frenchmen.
Still there remained a considerable force of the enemy machine gunners,
riflemen and bomb throwers behind breastworks afforded by the ruins, and
it was decided to dislodge these with a move planned by Phil and his
comrades and communicated to the American command through the two French
messengers.
After the village had been thoroughly wrecked by the artillery, the
bombardment ceased and a charge on the town was made by hundreds of
Marines, who ran forward in extended order to minimize the deadly
effects of the sweeping machine-gun fire of the enemy. This was a signal
for the escaped prisoners to dash forth from their places of
concealment.