THE ATTACK
"The cannonade is worse than it was last night."
"I think you're right, Leon," Jacques agreed. "That is quite natural
though."
"As a final effort I suppose," said Leon.
"Exactly."
"Here's breakfast," shouted Earl, trying to make himself heard above
the roar of the artillery. "That coffee looks good."
Hot coffee was furnished to every man and a meal was made of bread,
sardines and cheese.
"What's the time?" asked Jacques.
"Eight-thirty," replied Earl.
"Three quarters of an hour more," sighed Jacques. "I wish it was time
to start."
"Look here," cried Leon beckoning to his two companions. He was
peering out from one of the low places in the parapet and Jacques and
Earl quickly took their places beside him.
"You can see the German barbed wire in front of their trenches," said
Leon excitedly. "Do you suppose we'll ever reach that?"
"We'll go right on over it," said Jacques confidently. "Don't you
worry about that."
The scene was fascinating to the three boys. So it was also to their
comrades in the regiment. As far as one could see in either direction
along the trench men were lined up, waiting for the word to advance and
now and then stealing a glance, out across the field that stretched
between them and their goal.
"We are to keep in line with those two big trees on the hill yonder,"
said Jacques, pointing to a spot behind the German positions. "As long
as we keep headed for them we will be all right."
"That ought to be easy enough," exclaimed Leon.
Suddenly the command was passed down the line for every man to be
ready. Leon glanced at his watch; it was just nine o'clock. Every
knapsack was hoisted to its owner's back and guns in hand the men began
to file along the trench.
Thicker and ever faster the shells rained down. The French guns roared
continuously, doing their utmost to clear the way for the infantry
which was to sally forth so soon.
All at once a whistle sounded. The long line halted abruptly. A sharp
command followed and with a rattle the bayonets were fixed to the
rifles. Once again the whistle sounded; this time twice. Every man
made the final adjustment of his equipment and glanced at his
neighbor's to see if it too was in order.
"Good luck," said Jacques and he extended his right hand to Leon and
Earl in turn. They shook hands solemnly and the twin brothers standing
side by side gripped each other's hand without a word.
Leon looked along the line. Many of the men were grinning. Most of
them were white and their faces were drawn. The young American felt
queer; somehow he did not feel real. Everything about him seemed to be
taking place as in a dream. He could not realize it all.
"What are we waiting for?" he asked of Jacques and his voice sounded
faint and far away.
Before he could receive an answer a German shell suddenly burst close
at hand. A whisper ran along the line that a corporal and four men
were hit. Another shell burst close to the same spot. Evidently the
Germans had found the range.
"What are we waiting for?" Leon repeated anxiously. He glanced over
Earl's shoulder at his watch. It was exactly quarter past nine.
Two blasts on the whistle sounded. That was the signal. Every man
clenched his jaws and dashed at the trench wall in an effort to be the
first one to climb out. A moment later and all were out. The gaps in
the barbed wire that had been prepared now came into view and the men
wormed their way through.
Once past this and the line was formed again. Still together, Jacques,
Leon, and Earl took their places. The command was quickly given and at
double-quick the troops moved straight towards the German lines.
"Forward!" shouted the captain in a loud, clear voice that could be
heard even above the din of the cannonade. "Vive la France!"
With a shout the troops swept forward. From the German trenches came
the sharp rattle of the rapid-fire guns and the noise of the rifles.
Shells were bursting on every side. The air was full of dirt and dust
thrown up by the explosives. All along the line gaps in the advancing
line appeared, only to be closed up quickly and automatically.
The enemy's trenches were outlined by a long row of bursting shells.
From them arose a thick pall of smoke, obscuring the German positions.
At the bottom appeared red and green flames, but above all was
darkness. Out of the cloud came a ceaseless rain of metal, rifles,
dirt, cartridges, and even human flesh. The whole world seemed to have
been suddenly transformed into a roaring, flaming cauldron.
Leon gazed about him. Many of his comrades were down; he could
scarcely recognize Earl and Jacques, their faces were so blackened by
smoke and dirt. Holes appeared in the line on both sides of him. Not
for long, however; almost instantly the spaces filled up and the
advance was continued. He looked at the captain who was leading the
charge. Not one word of orders could be heard in that terrible uproar
and the officers had to make signs to their men.
Sometimes the captain lay down; his men immediately did the same. If
he pointed to the right the troops veered to the right. If he pointed
to the left they swung to the left. Blindly they followed on. Closer
and closer they came to the spot where their own shells were falling.
It seemed as if the leaders must be struck down by their own artillery.
Suddenly the curtain of fire lifted and moved forward to the next line
of trenches. The German trench that had been the object of the furious
bombardment appeared. In many cases it had been simply blown to pieces
and no trace of it could be discovered.
Leon, Earl, and Jacques had been appointed "trench-cleaners." That is,
they were among those who had been detailed to clear the enemy out of
all the captured trenches so that there would be no danger of the
troops being attacked from the rear.
Into the battered trench the three young soldiers sprang. With them
were a dozen more of their men. With bayonets affixed they made their
way along. The trench seemed to have numerous spurs and it branched
out in many directions. On the bottom lay many dead Germans.
Protruding from one side was the leg of some luckless infantryman who
had been buried alive by the explosion of a giant projectile.
"This way," urged Jacques as he turned from the main trench and darted
down a long passage-way.
"Careful, Jacques," warned Leon. "Don't go too fast."
"They're all dead in here," cried the young Frenchman exultantly. He
was taking an active part in ridding his country of the invaders and
like anyone in those circumstances he reveled in the task.
"Don't be so sure they're all dead," cried Earl. "You never can tell."
Scarcely had he spoken when they came face to face with three Germans.
With rifle grasped tightly in his hands Jacques was preparing to run
the first of them through when all three of them suddenly threw up
their hands. "_Kameraden_! _Kameraden_!" they cried eagerly.
"Don't touch them, Jacques," shouted Leon. "They're surrendering."
It was but the work of a moment to disarm the three Germans and they
were turned over to one of the French soldiers who was directed to lead
them back to his lines.
"That was easy enough," exclaimed Jacques triumphantly.
"Those fellows were dazed," cried Leon. "They didn't know what they
were doing."
"Who would?" demanded Earl. "If you'd been under that bombardment for
the last twenty-four hours the way they have been I guess you'd be
dazed yourself."
"Well, I hope they'll all be that way," said Jacques. "It won't take
us long in here if they are."
"How big is this place anyway?" said Earl. "We must be careful going
around corners and places like that. We can't see what is waiting for
us."
The three boys were by themselves now. They were many yards
underground and it was difficult for them to see their way distinctly.
They had just emerged into an underground room which was furnished with
a bedstead, washstand, table and chairs. The light was dim and the
three young soldiers could not make out their surroundings clearly.
Suddenly they heard a hoarse cry and the sound of a heavy blow.
Jacques, who was in the lead, fell to the ground with a groan.