THE REST BILLET
"Here's a pretty kettle of fish, Jack!" Tom Raymond remarked several
hours later, as he came into the dingy dugout where his chum was sitting.
A number of other pilots and observers occupied the same quarters, which
had once been the refuge of German officers. Wretched though these
quarters were, they at least afforded security from the bursting shells
that were being sent across now and then by the enemy, from their
positions on the hills to the northwest.
Jack had been paying small heed to the merriment of his mates, who, like
most young men gathered together in a group, had been carrying on high.
Sitting there with his head resting on his hand he had allowed himself to
become buried in deep thought. A strained worried look had taken
possession of his usually sunny face.
"What's the matter now, Tom?" he asked, with a deep sigh, as though he
had been rudely brought back to a realization of the fact that he was
still in France, where the battle raged, and far removed from those
peaceful Virginia scenes he had been picturing.
"We're ordered out with that raiding party to-night," Tom continued,
lowering his voice to a whisper, since it was supposed to be a military
secret, and not to be openly discussed.
"Oh! Well, what does it matter?" asked Jack, beginning to show animation.
"We've put in our applications for leave, but the chances are they'll not
be acted upon immediately, although we asked for speed. And nothing would
please me more than to see action while I'm waiting. I'm afraid I'd go
clean daffy unless I could forget my troubles in some way."
"Glad to hear you say that, Jack, because I'm feeling particularly keen
myself to be one of that bunch to-night"
"When do we start?" demanded the other tersely.
"Not until two in the morning," came the low reply. "All that's been
figured out with regard to the moon you know."
Jack took a quick glance around. So far as he could see, no one was
paying the least attention to him and his comrade. One of the air pilots
was trying to sing a song, being in jovial mood after receiving a letter
that he admitted was from his "girl in the States" and the others
manifested a desire to join in the chorus, though none of them dared let
their voices out, since it was against the rules.
"Did you learn anything about the job we've got on hand, Tom?"
"Yes, that's what I did; though I believe it was not generally told to
all who are to be in the party," came the cautious reply. "Of course just
before the flight they'll be given full particulars, when orders are
issued to the pilots and observers. It's a bridge this time, Jack!"
"That one spanning the river about twenty miles back of the German lines,
do you mean?"
"Yes, it's the most important bridge within fifty miles. Over it day and
night the retreating Boche armies are passing. There's hardly a minute
that guns and regiments may not be seen passing across at that point."
"Yes," observed Jack, "and a number of times some of our airmen have
tried to bomb it in the daytime; but Fritz keeps such a vigilant watch we
never could succeed in getting close enough to do any material damage.
And so the High Command has decided that bridge must be knocked to
flinders!"
"We're going out to make the attempt, anyhow," resumed Tom, nodding.
"Four big bombing machines in the bunch, guarded by eight battleplanes;
and we've the good fortune to be chosen as the crew of one. I consider
we're lucky, Jack."
"That's right, Tom. Though I don't feel quite as keen for it as I would
have been had I not received that letter from our lawyer, asking me to
hurry back home if I could possibly make it. Still, I'll be in for a bad
night, anyhow, and might just as well be working."
"Are you worrying about your cousin?" demanded Tom suspiciously.
"To tell you the truth I am, more or less," Jack confessed. "I know him
as a man utterly without principle. When he knows that it is a race
between us to see which one can get to America first, so as to win the
prize my foolish uncle left in such a haphazard way, there's absolutely
nothing, I honestly believe, that Randolph wouldn't attempt in order to
keep me from getting there in advance of him."
"Well, try to forget all that just now," said Tom. "I've a nice little
surprise for you, Jack. I suppose you know they've got a sort of 'Y' hut
running back here a bit?"
"Heard some of the fellows talking about it, but, somehow, didn't seem to
take much stock in the news. Fact is, I've temporarily lost my taste for
those doughnuts and the girls who give their time to jollying up our
fellows, as well as attending to their many wants in the line of letter
writing and such things."
"Perhaps," insinuated Tom, with a mild grin, "a doughnut mightn't go
so badly now if the girl who offered it happened to answer to the name
of Bessie?"
At that Jack suddenly began to show more interest. A gleam came into his
saddened eyes and a faint smile to his face.
"That's an altogether different thing, Tom!" he exclaimed. "Do you really
mean that Bessie and Mrs. Gleason are so close as all that?"
"If you care to walk out with me you can be talking to them inside of
fifteen minutes," came the ready answer. "And while about it, I might
as well tell you that Nellie is there too. Seems that she's attached to
a field hospital staff that's keeping us close company, and, meeting
the Gleasons, came over for the evening. She's been overworked lately,
and needs some rest. I promised to come back for a short while, and
fetch you along."
"Did--er, Bessie ask you to look me up?" asked Jack confusedly.
"To be sure! Twice at least. And I had to promise solemnly I'd do it even
if I had to take you by the collar and hustle you there. But our time is
limited, and we'd better be on our way, Jack."
The other showed an astonishing return to his old form. Apparently the
mere fact that he was about to see the Gleasons again caused him to
forget, temporarily at least, all about his fresh troubles. They were
soon hurrying along, now and then dropping flat as some shell shrieked
overhead or burst with a crash not far away.
Their relations with Mrs. Gleason and Bessie were very remarkable, and of
a character to bind them close together in friendship. In fact, as has
been described at length in one of the earlier books of this series, Tom
and Jack had been mainly instrumental in releasing the mother and young
daughter from a chateau where they were being held prisoner by an
unscrupulous and plotting relative, with designs on their fortune.
The so-called "hut" of the Y.M.C.A. workers was really only another
dilapidated and abandoned German dugout, which had been hurriedly
arranged as a sort of makeshift headquarters, where the doughboys who
could get leave might gather and find such amusement as the
conditions afforded.
There were Salvation Army lassies present too, with their pies and
doughnuts that made the boys feel closer to home than almost anything
else, and even a sprinkling of Red Cross nurses from the field hospital
who had been given a brief leave for recuperation.
Adjoining this particular rest billet was another of similar character
run by the K. of C., which was also well patronized; indeed there seemed
to be a friendly rivalry between the organizations to discover which
could spread the most sunshine and cheer abroad.
Jack immediately was pounced upon by a pretty, young girl whose face was
either very sunburned or covered with blushes. This was of course the
Bessie mentioned by Tom. Others who watched professed a bit of envy
because Jack received all her attention after he appeared.
Nellie Leroy, the Red Cross nurse, looked very sweet in her regulation
hospital uniform, with the insignia of her calling on her sleeve. If her
face bore a sad expression it was no more than must be expected of one
seeing so much suffering at close quarters as came to the share of all
the women and girls who devoted their very lives to such a calling. In
Tom's eyes she was the prettiest girl in all France. It could also be
seen that Nellie was very fond of the stalwart young air pilot, from the
way in which her eyes rested on his figure whenever he chanced to be
absent from her side during the next hour; which to tell the truth was
not often.
Of course nothing was said about the night's dangerous work that lay
ahead for the two chums. But Bessie noticed that Jack occasionally
looked grave, and questioned him concerning it. In answer he took her
into his confidence to a certain extent concerning his reason for wanting
to be in Virginia.
The time for separating came all too soon. Tom was very particular about
this, being a firm believer in duty before pleasure.
"Look us up often if you get the chance," said Mrs. Gleason, who had been
actively at work all the evening carrying out her customary duties, and
proving indeed a "good angel" to scores of the young soldiers, who looked
upon her as they might on their own mothers.
"You can depend on it we will," said Tom, giving Nellie a warm look that
caused her eyes to drop and a wave of color to come into her cheeks.
"Wild horses couldn't keep me away, if I can get across," Jack told
Bessie, as he was squeezing her little hand at separating. "But then you
never know what's going to happen these days. All sorts of things are
possible. If I do start across the big pond you'll hear of it, Bessie."
Jack looked back and waved his hand to the little group standing in the
door of the dugout. He seemed much more cheerful than earlier in the
evening, Tom thought; and as that had been one of his motives in getting
the other across from the aviation camp he felt satisfied.
"And now for business," he remarked as they made their way along, with a
frequent bursting shell giving them light to see any gap in the road into
which they might otherwise have stumbled.
Fritz was unusually active on this particular night, for some reason or
other, for he kept up that hammering hour after hour. It might be the
German High Command suspected that the Americans were ready to make a
more stupendous push than had as yet been undertaken, with the idea of
capturing a whole division, or possibly two, before they could get away;
and this bombardment was continued in hopes of discouraging them.
The two Air Service Boys did not bother themselves about this, being
content to leave all such matters to those in command. They had their
orders and expected to obey them to the letter, which was quite
enough for them.
Once more in their dugout, Tom and his comrade crawled into their limited
sleeping quarters simply to rest, neither of them meaning to try to
forget themselves in slumber.
When the time came for action they were soon crawling out of the hole in
the ground. As pilots came and went unnoticed, each intent on his
individual work, their departure caused not the faintest ripple. In fact,
there were two other airmen who also came out and joined them when making
for the place of the temporary canvas hangars, they, too, having had
secret orders concerning this same night raid.
Arriving on the open field, they found a busy scene awaiting them. Here
were mechanics by the score getting planes ready for ascension. The
hum of motors and the buzz of propellers being tuned up could be heard in
many quarters.
Those sounds always thrilled the hearts of the two boys; it seemed to
challenge them to renewed efforts to accomplish great things in their
chosen profession. When, however, they reached their own hangar and
found a knot of mechanics working furiously, Tom's suspicions
instantly arose.
"What's wrong here?" he asked the man who was in charge of the gang.
"There's been some sort of ugly business going on, I'm afraid," came the
reply; "for we're replacing several wire stays that look as if they'd
been partly eaten by a corrosive acid. Smacks of rank treachery,
Sergeant."