THE FIGHT
The front of the farmhouse broke into a sheet of flame.
At almost the same moment, Captain Leroux on the floor below, and Chester
in the basement, gave the command to fire and the first line of
approaching Germans seemed to crumple up.
But the men behind came on.
Again and again effective volleys were fired from the farmhouse; but
despite their heavy losses and urged on by commands of their
officers, the Germans pressed forward until they were at the very
side of the house.
As they approached they fired volley after volley at the windows behind
which the defenders stood calmly; and the French had not gone unscathed.
In the basement, where Chester was in command, no German bullet had gone
so far, but Hal had lost three men and Captain Leroux five. As quickly as
these fell others took their places at the windows and continued to fire
steadily into the German ranks.
Came a heavy battering at the front door. A force of Germans had reached
this point in spite of the fire of the French and now were attempting to
batter it down. Without exposing themselves too recklessly the French
could not reach this party of Germans with rifle fire.
Captain Leroux quickly told off ten men to guard the entrance the moment
the door should give beneath the kicks and blows of the enemy.
"Ten men should be as good as a hundred there," he explained. "Pick them
off as they rush through. Aim carefully and make every shot count."
He turned back to the work of directing the fire from the windows.
The battering at the door continued. One of the defenders, thinking to
dispose of a member of the enemy in such close proximity, stuck his head
out and brought his rifle to bear upon the foe in the doorway; but before
he could accomplish his object he fell back inside with a groan. A German
bullet had done its work.
"No more of that!" ordered Captain Leroux, sharply. "I need every man I
have. No need to expose yourselves uselessly."
After that no French head appeared above the window sill farther than was
necessary to aim and fire.
In the basement Chester and his men had had little to do so far. True,
they had been able to pick off a German or two, but their position was
such that they could be of little value at the moment. Their time was to
come later.
On the top floor Hal, because of his position, was better able to command
a view of the open field ahead than Captain Leroux in the room below. The
fire of Hal's men, therefore, was more effective than of the French on
the ground floor.
Below there was a crash as the door splintered beneath the battering
tactics brought into play by the Germans who had gained the shelter of
the house and were able to continue work without molestation. The ten
Frenchmen told off by Captain Leroux to defend the entrance held their
rifles ready, waiting for the first German head to appear in the opening.
But the door was of stout oak, and though it seemed on the point of
giving under each succeeding blow, it still held. Hoarse guttural cries
from without indicated that the Germans were becoming impatient to get at
the French within. Came an extra violent crash and the door suddenly gave
way. Three Germans, who had been leaning against the door, caught off
their balance, were precipitated headlong into the room. It was
unfortunate--for them.
Before they could scramble to their feet, the French had placed them
beyond all hopes of further fighting. Their days of war were over.
But other Germans poured into the door behind them and leaped forward
over the prostrate forms of their comrades. Calmly, the ten French
soldiers, far back against the wall and a little to one side, so as to be
out of direct line of fire from the open doorway, fired into the surging
mass of humanity. And their fire was deadly and effective. In almost less
time than it takes to tell it the doorway was choked with German dead.
It was a gruesome sight and even the French soldiers, used as they were
to such spectacles, shuddered inwardly. It seemed foolhardy for the enemy
to seek entrance to the house through that blocked door. Even the Germans
realized it and would have drawn back but for the fact that their
officers, farther back, urged them on with cries and imprecations.
Again there was a concerted rush for the door.
The pile of prostrate German forms served as a shield for the defenders
and behind this barrier of bodies the men took their posts and poured a
withering fire into the ranks of the attackers. This deadly fire was more
than the Germans could face, and in spite of the frantic efforts of their
officers, they drew off.
"I didn't think they could make it," shouted Captain Leroux. "Good
work, men!"
A cheer went up from the defenders. But the men knew the calibre of these
German veterans and they realized that the attack had not been given up.
They knew that the Germans, with their superior numbers, would not desist
and that eventually they must be overwhelmed.
"Two hours!" Captain Leroux had said.
Hardly a quarter of that time had flown and in it had been crowded
desperate work that well would have been enough for the day. The men were
tired, but they were not willing to admit it. Each had told himself that
he would die at his post rather than surrender.
There came a lull in the fighting.
To the war-seasoned veterans of France this lull told a story of its own.
It presaged a new and more violent attempt on the part of the Germans to
force the farmhouse. Captain Leroux knew it. So did Hal and Chester, and
at their various stations they gave quick commands to their men.
Taking care not to expose himself too much, he gazed from the window. His
action did not even bring a shot. This increased the lad's suspicions.
"Trying to draw us out," he muttered. "Want us to think they have given
up the attempt. Never mind, Mr. German, you are not shrewd enough."
The defenders waited patiently; and presently the Germans again advanced
to the attack, even as Hal and Chester had known they would.
Forward came the Teuton horde in a charge. From a distance of perhaps 500
yards, they dashed across the open at full speed, apparently bent upon
overawing the defenders by the very appearance of such numbers.
But the French did not quail. The weight of numbers meant nothing to
them. It was not the first time they had stood firmly against
overwhelming odds, and there was not a man in the farmhouse who did not
fully expect to survive the present battle and be ready to face
overwhelming odds again. Each man knew well enough that before the
fighting was over it was ten to one that there would be but a handful
of the defenders left, but each man was confident he would be one of
that number.
They poured a galling fire into the ranks of the Germans as they advanced
to the charge.
The effect of this steady stream of rifle fire, accurate and deadly at
such close range, was bound to tell. In spite of the urging of their
officers, the Germans wavered. The lines behind the first surged forward,
however, pushing the men in front closer to the deadly fire of the
French. Those in front pushed back and for a moment there was wild
confusion without.
In vain German officers rushed in among the troops, trying to rally them.
It was too late. The Germans had become demoralized. A moment and they
broke and fled. It was every man for himself.
The French within the farmhouse raised a wild cheer and poured volley
after volley into the fleeing Germans. Men tumbled right and left. The
German losses in the retreat were greater even than they had been in
the advance.
Hal, who had been working like a Trojan, wiped the beads of perspiration
from his forehead with his shirt sleeve--the work had become so hot that
the lad had removed his coat, though it was still cold without--and spoke
words of encouragement to his men.
"Good work, boys," he said quietly. "A few more like that and they will
bother us no more."
Even as he spoke the lad knew that his words meant nothing. He knew the
Germans would not give up until they had captured the farmhouse or had
been driven back by the weight of superior numbers, and at that moment it
did not appear that reinforcements would arrive.
The troops also knew that Hal's words meant nothing, but they cheered
him anyhow. They realized that he had spoken as he did merely to
encourage them; and they liked the spirit that inspired the words. They
knew that Hal was fully competent of judging the hopelessness of the
task ahead of them.
"The captain said to hold them two hours, sir," said one grizzled old
veteran to Hal. "How long has it been now, sir?"
Hal glanced at his watch. "One hour exactly."
"Good!" exclaimed the French soldier. "One half of the work done and most
of us are still here. We'll hold them!"
"Of course we'll hold them, Francois," exclaimed another. "Surely you
didn't think we couldn't do it?"
"Well," was the reply. "It's a pretty big job and--"
"But we were ordered to hold them for two hours," protested the other.
"Of course," returned the man addressed as Francois. "That settles it.
Two hours are two hours."
"Right," said the other. "Also two hours are only two hours, which makes
it that much better."
"But at the end of two hours, then what?" asked a third soldier.
The man who had first engaged Francois in conversation shrugged his
shoulders.
"That," he said, "is not for us to decide. But we will not be forgotten,
you may be sure of that. Our general will see that we are relieved."
"You may rest assured on that score," Hal agreed. "Having picked you as
the men to defend this important position, it is not to be expected that
he will see you all sacrificed."
There was another cheer from the men, followed a moment later by a shout
from one at the front window.
"Here they come again, sir!"