THE EVE OF VERDUN
On the twenty-second of February, 1916, an automobile sped northward
along the French battle line that for almost two years had held back the
armies of the German emperor, strive as they would to win their way
farther into the heart of France. For months the opposing forces had
battled to a draw from the North Sea to the boundary of Switzerland,
until now, as the day waned--it was almost six o'clock--the hands of time
drew closer and closer to the hour that was to mark the opening of the
most bitter and destructive battle of the war, up to this time.
It was the eve of the battle of Verdun.
The occupants of the automobile as it sped northward numbered three. In
the front seat, alone at the driver's wheel, a young man bent low. He was
garbed in the uniform of a British lieutenant of cavalry. Close
inspection would have revealed the fact that the young man was a youth of
some eighteen years, fair and good to look upon. As the machine sped
along he kept his eyes glued to the road ahead and did not once turn to
join in the conversation of the two occupants on the rear seat. Whether
he knew that there was a conversation in progress it is impossible to
say, but the rush of wind would have made the conversation
unintelligible, to say the least.
This youth on the front seat was Hal Paine, an American.
The two figures in the rear seat were apparently having a hard time
to maintain their places, as they bounced from side to side as the
car swerved first one way and then the other, or as it took a flying
leap over some object in the road, which even the keen eye of the
driver had failed to detect. But in spite of this, even as they
bounced, they talked.
One of the two figures was tall and slender and there was about him an
air of youthfulness. He was in fact a second American boy. His name
was Chester Crawford, friend and bosom companion of Hal Paine. Like
the latter he, too, was attired in the uniform of a British lieutenant
of cavalry.
The second figure in the rear seat was built along different lines. He
was short and chunky; also, he was stout. Had he been standing it would
have been evident that he was almost as wide as he was long. He had a
pleasant face and smiled occasionally, though upon each occasion this
smile died away in a sickly grin as the car leaped high in the air after
striking a particularly large obstruction in the road, or veering crazily
to one side as it turned sharply. In each case the grin was succeeded by
a gasp for breath.
The figure was that of Mr. Anthony Stubbs, war correspondent of the New
York _Gazette_, on the firing line in Europe to gather facts for his
newspaper. He was attired in a riding suit of khaki.
Said Mr. Stubbs:
"Well, we may get there and we may not."
"Oh, we'll get there all right, Mr. Stubbs!" Chester raised his voice to
make himself heard.
"We're likely to land out here in the ditch," was Stubbs' reply. "The way
Hal runs this car, there is no telling what may happen."
"Not frightened, are you, Mr. Stubbs?" asked Chester, grinning.
"Frightened?" echoed Stubbs. "Why should I be frightened? We can't be
going more than a couple of hundred miles an hour. No, I'm not
frightened. I'm what you call scared. Wow!"
This last ejaculation was drawn from the little man as he was pitched
over into Chester's lap by an extra violent lurch of the car. He threw
out a hand, seeking a hold, and his open palm came in contact with
Chester's face. Chester thrust Stubbs away from him.
"I say, Stubbs!" said the lad half angrily. "If you want to jump out of
here, all right; but don't try and push me out ahead of you. Keep your
hands out of my face."
"I wasn't trying to push you out," gasped Stubbs. "I was hunting
something to hang on to."
"Well, my face is no strap," declared Chester.
The automobile slowed down suddenly and a moment later came to a stop at
a fork in the road.
"I'll have to have a look at this chart," Hal called over his shoulder to
his companions, as he thrust a hand into a pocket. "Forget which way we
head from here."
"We're headed for the happy hunting grounds no matter which road we
take," mumbled Stubbs.
"Don't croak, Mr. Stubbs," said Hal. "Barring accidents, we'll reach
General Petain at Verdun in time to deliver these despatches before it's
too late."
"What I don't understand," said Chester, "is why it is necessary to
deliver these despatches by courier. What's the matter with the wire?"
"I don't know," said Hal, as he returned the chart to his pocket after a
quick scrutiny, "unless there is a leak of some kind."
"Hardly," said Chester.
Hal shrugged his shoulders as he settled his cap more firmly on his head
and laid a hand on the wheel.
"You never can tell," he said.
"Well," said Stubbs, "I don't--hey! what're you trying to do, anyhow?"
For the little man again had been hurled violently against Chester as Hal
sent the car forward with a lurch. "Trying to leave me behind? What?"
"Can't be done, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester.
Mr. Stubbs glared at the lad angrily, but deigned to make no reply. So
the big army automobile continued on its way in silence.
Darkness fell. Hal stopped the car and lighted the lamps.
"Can't take any chances while going at this speed," he said.
Stubbs grinned feebly to himself, seemed as if about to speak, then
thought better of it and remained silent. But he waved a hand in disgust.
A moment later the car was rushing through the darkness at the speed of
an express train; and while this journey in the night continues it will
be well to explain the presence of the three companions in the big army
car, how they came there and why, and the nature of the mission upon
which they were bound.
A month before the three had been in the Balkans. There the two lads,
together with Anthony Stubbs, had gone through many dangerous adventures,
finally reaching Greek soil in the nick of time, with a horde of
Bulgarians just behind them. With them had been others--Ivan, a Cossack,
a third British officer and a young girl. Ivan had elected to join the
Anglo-French forces at Salonika; the other British officer had found his
own regiment there and the girl, whom it had been the good fortune of the
boys to save from the Bulgarians, found friends in the Greek city who had
taken her in charge.
Hal, Chester and Stubbs had embarked on a French battleship, homeward
bound. After due time they landed in Marseilles.
"Now," said Chester, when he once more felt French soil under his feet,
"I suppose the thing for us to do is to return to the Italian lines and
see if we can learn anything of Uncle John, then return to Rome and to
New York."
Uncle John was the brother of Chester's mother. All had been bound for
home when Hal and Chester had become involved in a matter that took them
forward with the Italian troops. Uncle John had been along to keep them
out of mischief, if he could. He hadn't succeeded and had fallen into the
hands of the Austrians. The boys had saved him. Later they had been
forced to seek refuge in the Balkans, having found it impossible to get
back into the Italian lines, and they had lost Uncle John. Their arrival
in Marseilles had really been the first step toward a return to Rome,
where they intended to try and find their mothers.
But their plans to return to Rome did not materialize. As Hal said: "Luck
was with us."
In a little room in a Marseilles restaurant they had overheard a
conversation between two men, plainly foreigners, that had resulted in
their once more being sent on active service. While they had been unable
to gather all the details, they had learned enough to know that the
German Crown Prince had laid careful plans for an attack on Verdun. They
had taken their information to the French commanding officer in
Marseilles. The latter had been somewhat skeptical, but Colonel Derevaux,
an old friend of the boys, had arrived at the psychological moment and
vouched for them.
Immediately the French officer decided that something must be done. The
plans of the Germans, so far as he knew, had not been anticipated. For
some reason he did not wish to trust the information to the telegraph
wires, and the two lads had volunteered to deliver it in person to
General Petain. Their offer had been accepted, which accounts for the
fact that we find them upon the last leg of their journey to Verdun at
the opening of this story.
Stubbs had elected to accompany them, for, as he said, "I've got to get
the news."
The two lads had seen considerable active service. They had fought with
the Belgians at Liège; with the British on the Marne; with the Cossacks
in Russian Poland and in the Carpathians; with the Montenegrins and
Serbians in the Balkans, and with the Italian troops in the Alps.
They had been participants in many a hard blow that had been delivered by
the Allies. They had won the confidence of Field Marshall John French,
commander of the British forces in France until he was succeeded by
General Sir Douglas Haig after the battle of the Champagne, and of
General Joffre, the French commander-in-chief.
While they ostensibly were British army officers, their titles were
purely honorary, but they held actual lieutenancies in the Belgian army,
these having been bestowed upon them by King Albert in recognition of
services accomplished in and around Liège in the early days of the war.
The boys had been chums since early childhood. They had been brought up
together. They attended school together and were inseparable companions.
Each spoke German and French fluently, and service with other armies had
given them a knowledge of other tongues. Both were strong and sturdy,
crack shots, good with sword and sabre, and particularly handy with their
fists. These accomplishments had stood them in good stead in many a tight
place. But better than all these accomplishments was the additional fact
that each was clear-headed, a quick thinker and very resourceful. They
depended upon brains rather than brawn to pull them through ticklish
situations, though they did not hesitate to call on the latter force when
occasion demanded.
Hal, peering ahead by the glare of the searchlight on the large army car,
suddenly slowed down; the car stopped. A group of mounted men rode up.
Hal stood up and gave a military salute as one of the group advanced
ahead of the others.
"I am from General Durand at Marseilles, sir," he said. "I have important
dispatches for General Petain."
The French officer returned the salute.
"Follow me," he said briefly.