FACING THE HUN
Just this side of one of the lines of trenches the regiment halted at
the word of the commander. Then it stood at attention and presented
arms while from out the trenches came an endless line of men who had
held that trench for France and now were yielding their place to the
ardent young soldiers of the sister republic across the sea.
There was a strong impulse to cheer on both sides, but that might have
betrayed to the enemy the change that was taking place in that sector
of the line, and this for strategic reasons, it was desirable to avoid.
Soon the last of the war-worn veterans was lost in the darkness. Then,
with infinite caution the boys of the old Thirty-seventh marched into
the trenches, guided only by lanterns that waved low before them like
so many fireflies.
So perfectly the movement had been planned, so carefully had been
mapped out in advance the exact location that each unit of the command
was to occupy, that, within an hour after the substitution had been
made, the entire regiment was placed, and, apart from those detailed
for duty, was sound asleep!
Curiosity ran riot when the army boys woke in their unfamiliar
surroundings. At last they had reached the trenches, that magic word
that they had heard again and again in the daily discussions of the
last three years, and they studied every detail of their new
surroundings with the keenest interest and zest.
Here they were to live, here some of them, beyond a question, were to
die. The thought was sobering, and on that first day there was little
of the gaiety and jest that had marked their life in the camps behind.
"Well, Bart, old scout, we're in for it now," said Frank, after
breakfast, as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"In for fair," responded Bart.
"We're up against the real thing," added Billy. "We had a little taste
of trench life down in Mexico, but most of the life was in the open.
This is a different proposition."
Just then a shell came screaming overhead and the boys involuntarily
ducked.
"That seems to prove it," said Tom.
"Bad shooting though," remarked Frank, coolly. "Fritz ought to have
the range better by this time."
"There isn't very much of that sort of thing going on just now,"
remarked Corporal Wilson, who came along just then. "This is what they
call a 'quiet sector.' The boys are just put here to be broken in and
get used to the sight and sound of the shells. This is a deaf and dumb
asylum compared to what you'll get later on."
"Job's comforter," murmured Bart. "To hear the corporal talk you'd
think this was a rest cure."
In the hours of liberty allowed them the army boys explored the
trenches for a long distance in either direction, and what they saw
tended to upset a good many of the notions they had formed.
In a vague way they had figured the trench to be not much else than a
gigantic ditch. They found it to be an underground city.
There was a bewildering labyrinth of passages branching off in every
direction. There were spacious rooms, fitted up in homely comfort,
some with pictures on the walls and rugs upon the floors.
There were shower baths and laundries, rude in construction but
efficient in operation. The sleeping quarters of the men consisted
chiefly of bunks, rising in tiers, though in some cases, cots were used.
There was an apparently endless series of communicating trenches with
the listening posts in advance of the main line. There were telephone
wires and electric lights.
"The moles have got nothing on us," remarked Tom, as he noted the vast
extent of these subterranean passages.
"It's like the catacombs of Rome," put in Billy. "The only difference
is that those contain dead men while we're very much alive."
"Knock wood," counseled Bart. "We wouldn't be very long if the Boches
had their way."
Along the side of the main trench, facing the enemy was a narrow
platform on which the men stood who were on watch. A series of
cunningly contrived loopholes enabled them to look over at the enemy
trenches without themselves being seen.
Sand bags were piled on the top of the trench in numbers sufficient to
stop the flight of a bullet or even the impact of a shell.
A series of steps led up to the top and the boys reflected as they
looked at them that before long their feet would be planted there when
the order should be given to go "_over the top_" and charge across the
intervening space to meet the enemy.
The silent men standing on watch, gripping their muskets, their eyes
peering through the loopholes, seemed like so many statues.
Each had his gas mask ready to clap on at an instant's notice, for when
that deadly poison should be wafted over the trench, one second of time
might mean all the difference between life and death.
Before the day was over Frank and his comrades had replaced this line
of sentinels. They peered curiously across to the German trench from
which they were separated by not more than two hundred yards.
There was absolutely nothing to be seen except the line of sand bags
that they knew marked the positions of the enemy. Nothing broke the
monotonous expanse of shell-torn earth.
They had an uncanny feeling as though they were the only living
creatures left in the world.
"It looks as though all the Germans had gone back to Berlin," remarked
Frank in an undertone.
"Does it?" said the corporal grimly. "Give me your hat."
He took the hat that Frank extended and lifted it above the parapet on
the point of a bayonet.
Zip! came a bullet, missing the helmet by a hair and thudding into one
of the sand bags.
"Take it all back," said Frank as he resumed his hat. "They're on the
job!"
A week passed by with only two casualties on the American side, for the
sector was indeed a quiet one. But certain signs of a projected
movement on the part of the enemy had made the American officers
uneasy, and one day Corporal Wilson called Frank apart.
"Sheldon," he said, "Captain Baker has ordered me to take a squad of
men on the first dark or foggy night for patrol duty in No Man's Land.
I want you, Raymond, Bradford and Waldon to go with me."
"Good," said Frank, promptly. "We'll be ready."
He sought out his comrades and eagerly imparted the information. They
received it with delight.
"Bully!" cried Bart.
"Best news I've heard since Hector was a pup!" chortled Billy.
"Here's hoping we'll slip one over on Fritz!" chuckled Tom, gleefully.