A DOUBLE SURPRISE
Roy and Dave had come back unharmed from the first sniping expedition of
the squad against the enemy's snipers. The former was elated at having
seen a German who had crawled out of the enemy trench some distance into
"No Man's Land," as the space between the opposing trenches has been
nicknamed, stick his head and gun above a fallen tree trunk, shoot at
Roy, and upon Roy's returning the compliment go down quickly, not to
reappear. The German's bullet had chipped a bit of stone off not five
inches from Roy's nose.
"Think sure I got the sucker and I hope he was Kaiser Bill himself! I
kept watchin' for him, Herb, for about half an hour and he never showed
up. Now, who'll get out there to bury him, I wonder?"
"Let us hope somebody does tonight," Herb said.
"Hope that? Cracky, me lad, not so fast! If they got that far they'd
forget the dead one and try to make one of us live ones a dead one.
But, say, if some of us can sneak down there and lay for them when they
do come out for him, we could take 'em prisoners easy. How 'bout it?"
"Don't seem like fair and square fighting," said Herb.
"But _they_ do these things!" Roy argued.
"Two wrongs don't make a right."
"They will make a capture, though, sure as you're a foot high! Try it
and let me in on it."
"But it will be your time sleeping. Well, maybe we can plan it. I'll
talk with the lieutenant."
That night it came on to rain, harder than it had yet come down since
the squad had been in France. Everything was soggy and soaked; the
atmosphere seemed like a big sponge surcharged with endless dampness.
Slickers were in demand and all guns and revolvers for those going forth
were well cleaned and oiled.
Out of the pit and through the intense darkness Corporal Whitcomb led a
party of six others, one-half of his own men and two Regulars of the
platoon, all prepared for dealing a surprise. But, along with the
enemy, they, too, experienced the unexpected, which in this case might
better be called simply a streak of luck.
Long before dark, though compelled to dangerously expose himself,
Herbert had drawn up a rough but effective map of the slope between the
pit and the German trenches, actually going over some of the ground
afoot and being shot at several times from the trench, but from a safer
place covering the rest with his glass. Especially prominent on the map
was made the fallen trunk where lay the German victim of Roy's superior
marksmanship. And when Roy showed this map and his plan of action to
Lieutenant Jackson the latter said:
"That's the stuff! It ought to earn you a commission. Hope you can carry
it out. Yes, take Murphy and Donaldson, if you want. We'll lay low up
here ready for a counter-raid if you signal us."
Now, down the slope the men followed, single file, until they had
covered nearly half the distance; then Herb felt a touch on the arm.
Dave McGuire saluted and whispered:
"Have a notion that--ah--these fellows are expecting we shall undertake
something like this and--all--are going to lay for us. Maybe we might
divide up, go two ways--ah--and get the drop--ah--on them, as
they-ah--say, corporal."
"I have already planned for that; but thanks, old man. We'll do that
very thing."
One group of four went a little to the right of the fallen tree and
sought places of hiding; the other two, with Herbert, went to the left
and found an old shell pit into which they all crawled. The instructions
from the lieutenant had been for all to pull some grass and leaves to
partly camouflage themselves.
The wisdom of this was shown not half an hour later when a low-flying
airplane suddenly rose, sailed over the spot and threw a rather
uncertain searchlight upon the slope, surely not detecting one of the
hidden Americans.
The gun in the pit did not fire a shot at the flying-machine. The enemy
might have been suspicious of that, though they must have believed that
the birdman offered too uncertain a mark on which to waste shells in the
dark, and then the flier's report gave them an assurance of safety.
The boys lay waiting long and not too patiently--for who can easily
endure such conditions? There was no let-up to the cold rain, which
after a time became half sleet. Lying on the cold, soggy ground, chilled
and uncomfortable, the boys after a time grew restive. Roy, with the
four on one side, cautioned silence. Herbert wondered how the fastidious
McGuire was putting up with all this. Then, suddenly:
"Hist!" from one side. "Hist!" came from the other and at once the
silence was more impressive than death itself. For, perhaps, as they all
thought, death might soon follow.
Up the slope beyond and slowly approaching came the sound of many
heavily-shod feet, and dark figures began to loom in the blackness,
coming straight for the tree.
The American youngsters lay ready as pumas to spring amongst fat deer;
they hardly breathed, the tense situation holding every man to the duty
expected of him and in which he now gloried, eager to act.
More and more gray figures came dimly into view until, around the fallen
tree, nearly a score of men stood silently, only one of them
occasionally uttering an exclamation, or a word or two. Herb knew that
Ben Gardner, once a buyer of toys in Europe, spoke German fluently and
he had kept Ben beside him for a purpose. Asking him afterward what
remarks the leader of the Germans had made, Gardner explained:
"Well, first he asked: 'Where is he?' and then: 'How can I believe it?'
and once he said: 'Where could the American have been to kill him with
the first shot?' When they explained this to him he only grunted about
ten times. It must have been a stumper."
But in Corporal Whitcomb's mind was a more engrossing question than any
normal actions of the Germans could have further created. Greatly
outnumbered, was he to give the signal to act on the offensive, or to
let the chance go by and run no risks?
Had he known then that a German division commander, a general of note,
had been examining the trench at length and hearing of the death of
Godfrey Schmaltz, once big game hunter and one of the best shots in all
the Fatherland, had risked the chance to come now and inspect the place
and manner of the great marksman's defeat, the young corporal would have
hesitated not at all and have risked everything. But now he seemed
disposed to wait too long. Gardner, however, must have guessed the
situation more clearly. He nudged Herbert and whispered:
"Big gun, I believe! Better get him! Now's our chance!"
And Herb, his mind suddenly set to the task, gave the signal--the flash
of an electric handlight into the mist.
The seven were all on their feet in an instant and advancing upon the
enemy. At the same moment Gardner shouted in the German tongue:
"Hands up, or death to all instantly! You are our prisoners!"
Herbert called to Roy and Martin Gaul, who were nearest, to quickly
disarm the Huns; and the way the few guns were snatched from the men and
tossed aside must have much surprised them. One big fellow struck at
Roy, and the man got a blow in the face which staggered him.
There was an attempt at a scurry among the German officers when the
ambush was sprung and the order given them. It was a palpable effort to
shield or to effect the escape of one of their number, the general.
Dave McGuire saw this, having come around on that side in the movement
to surround the huddled enemy, and he acted with the speed of a hawk.
Shoving his pistol into the face of the nearest Boche, the young fellow
began lisping some words in English which were probably poorly
understood, if at all, but he did not get very far with his speech.
Dave's arm was knocked aside and a Hun officer leveled a pistol at him,
fully getting the drop on him. By all rules of the game, this was a
signal for surrender on Dave's part, but Dave wasn't abiding by any
rules just then. The Hun officer suddenly felt in the pit of his stomach
a boot that had the force of a Missouri mule back of it and when he rose
from the mire he found himself a prisoner.
Dave made the others believe, seeing their companion fall and the
American's pistol again threatening them, that there was nothing left
them but to accept the situation; and though the general, much to his
credit for pluck, made another attempt to get away, he also got Dave's
foot with equal force, but on the shin, and he couldn't have run then to
save his life.
Meanwhile all of the other six had performed quite admirably and
impressed upon the German officers and men the fact that they were at
the mercy of the Americans.
"Tell them to keep mighty quiet, Gardner," Herbert ordered, and this
also was conveyed to them in words the prisoners clearly understood.
"And to head up the hill and step lively," the corporal added.
They headed up and stepped. Two lagged a little, but one of the
Regulars, Murphy, prodded those grumbling Huns with his brawny fist and
they fell in with the others. As though by previous drill, the captors
arranged themselves about the prisoners with instant comprehension of
the entire situation. Ready to pour in a murderous fire with the first
movement in an attempt to escape, and believing that such an attempt
might be made at any moment, two of the squad marched to the right and
two to the left of the captured Germans, while Herbert and Donaldson
followed in the rear and Gardner led the way, walking backward up the
slope, now and then urging the captives to step along quickly.
They had covered two-thirds of the distance to the gun pit when one of
the general's aides or staff suddenly gave a low order, and turned and
rushed boldly upon the nearest American. Half the number of Germans,
with something like a roar, followed his example in what, against a less
determined resistance must have been a successful break-away for most
of them.
But half a dozen revolvers barked and just as many Teutons went to the
ground, two never to rise again by their own efforts, for the distance
was short and the American boys were ready. The Huns fell back again
into a bunch, the general unwounded.
And then out came the raiders. The firing proved a signal and they knew
that their commander was in danger. From the German trench the soldiers
climbed; and though they could not be seen, the rapid commands, the
rattle of fixing bayonets, the tramp of hasty feet were very audible.
Herbert listened for a second and then shouted:
"Never mind picking up those fellows, but get the rest up to the pit!
Rush 'em now; rush 'em! Flynn," he called, "go for the pit like the Old
Scratch was after you, and tell Lieutenant Jackson the enemy's out and
coming!"
Just then the entire bunch of captors and captives found themselves in
what was equal to the glare of day; a searchlight from the German trench
had found them.
The sharp roar of the American gun in the pit jarred the earth, and
instantly the darkness was over everything again. The Yankee
artillery-men had found the searchlight and with the first shot.
But that moment of white light had shown some morose, ugly, hate-bearing
faces and booted figures huddled in a group, and on the ground some
lying prone, others in a sitting posture, while about them stood a
number of grim fellows, with pistols in hand. And the light had shown on
the hill Roy Flynn going up the grade at a speed that would have done
credit to most sprinters on the level. Roy had been the hundred-yards
man at Brighton for three terms.
Lieutenant Jackson had his Regulars down the hill into the center of No
Man's Land almost before the Germans had all climbed out of their
trenches, and when the latter came on in the darkness they were received
with such a withering fire that the survivors broke and fled back in a
hurry.
"By jingo, corporal, you certainly have done yourself and all of us
proud!" was Lieutenant Jackson's remark to Herbert a half hour later
when the prisoners had been questioned, disposed of and a guard set over
them, and in their warm dugout shelter the squad of snipers were
gathered about the trench stove.
"All you fellows," he went on, "ought to be promoted for this night's
work; that's a fact. I don't want to take a bit of the glory away from
you; I want you to make out and send in with mine a complete report of
your work in capturing these----"
"I'll be perfectly content to have you do it all, Lieutenant," Herbert
replied.
"But I won't. You can write better than I can. When they hear you've
snared this big chump, General What's-his-name, they'll tumble over
themselves to get you a commission. You deserve it. We're all finding
out what the Johnny Bulls tell us: the non-coms and the subs have about
as much to do with this scrap as the generals and colonels."