THE DUG-OUT
Jacques immediately sprang back to his former position in the alcove
beside the machine-gun. Lucky it was for him that he did so. The
hand-grenade exploded and the ceiling which already was greatly
weakened speedily collapsed.
Plaster, furniture, rafters and men poured down in a mass. The force
of the explosion had literally torn the ceiling to pieces and, the
supports gone, it collapsed at once.
"Anyone left up there?" shouted Armande.
"Not a soul," replied Jacques quickly. "Watch out below though."
Many of the Germans were buried deep under the mass of débris on the
floor. Here and there an arm appeared and the French were busily
engaged in extricating their enemies from the heap. Seven men were
taken out alive, suffering only from bruises; four more were captured
badly wounded and six were found dead.
"Well I guess the fight's over," sighed Armande when the Germans had
been deprived of their weapons and the pile had been thoroughly
searched for any more bodies.
"Seems to be," agreed Jacques. "How about these men?" he asked, as he
spoke, indicating the prisoners that had been taken.
"We'll take them back to our trenches of course," said Armande.
A few moments later the little band had left the ruined château and
were on their way back to their lines. The struggle was still
continuing violently and both sides were fighting desperately for
possession of the disputed positions.
Arriving in the trenches Armande, Jacques, Lippen and the others soon
found their regiment and having turned over their prisoners were
quickly in the fighting again. Leon, Earl and Dubois were posted side
by side and Armande and Jacques joined them at once.
"We thought you were dead, Jacques," cried Leon, delighted to see his
comrade once more. "Where did you come from?"
The story was quickly told and just as it was completed the officer who
had directed Jacques to set off the mine-field approached the place in
which the boys were standing.
"Young man!" he exclaimed heartily, catching sight of Jacques, "you did
splendid work. You saved our lines and made possible this
counter-attack. You disappeared though and I feared you had been lost."
"I saw our men coming forward and I could not resist the temptation to
join them, sir," said Jacques modestly.
"Well, I'm glad to see you again," said the officer. "We need men like
you."
"They're all as good if not better," exclaimed Jacques earnestly.
"That's right too," agreed the officer. "Every Frenchman is a hero in
these days of trouble."
He passed on and Jacques turned again to his comrades.
"Tell me," he exclaimed, "what has happened here?"
"Everything," said Earl grimly. "They certainly did pepper us and it
was only a few minutes before you came back that they let up at all."
"They're still fairly busy I should say," remarked Jacques.
The shells were bursting all around in endless succession but
fortunately the fire of the German batteries was directed mostly upon
the positions to the right and left of those occupied by the _douzième_.
"They'll hit us before long," remarked Dubois.
"What do you mean?" asked Earl. "A counter-attack?"
"I think so. They may not try it to-day but they surely will some time
to-night; the Boches are getting so they like to fight in the dark now."
"Perhaps it's because they can't see the bayonets so well," laughed
Armande. "They don't care much about cold steel, do they?"
"I should say not," agreed Dubois. "It's funny too for they are
certainly brave enough when it comes to facing shells and machine-guns."
"Hand-to-hand work isn't suited to Germans, I guess," said Leon. "You
never heard of a German being a good boxer either; they don't seem to
be much good at things that need quick thinking and action."
"Germans are good athletes though," exclaimed Earl.
"In certain sports they are," Leon agreed. "They're good wrestlers and
gymnasts and that sort of thing. I say that they're strong but they're
not athletic. The strongest fellows aren't always the best athletes,
you know."
Meanwhile the guns boomed constantly. The shells from the French guns
were exploding far in advance of the positions the _douzième_ now
occupied.
"They're probably shelling the ground where the Germans are trying to
dig new trenches," said Dubois.
"I hope they hit 'em," exclaimed Leon fervently.
There were many dug-outs along the line of the trench. Some of them
were shell-proof and were fifteen to twenty feet below the surface of
the ground; the entrance to these was through a door, level with the
floor of the trench. A stairway, just wide enough to permit one man to
pass, led down to them. The roofs were reinforced with huge timbers
and so strongly were they constructed that most of them were intact,
despite the heavy bombardment to which they had been subjected.
"Have you seen these dug-outs?" Leon inquired of Jacques.
"No, I haven't."
"Come along then and I'll show them to you," exclaimed Leon. "Some of
them are regular palaces."
"I doubt that," laughed Jacques as the two boys set out together.
They inspected a dug-out similar to the one described above. Then they
discovered others, larger but only slightly lower than the trenches.
"Look at them," exclaimed Leon. "They must have used these for living
quarters when things were quiet."
"I guess they did," agreed Jacques. "If they're all like this they're
pretty good size too; this one must be six feet wide and nearly thirty
feet long."
"See those logs on the ceiling; they're a foot in diameter at least."
"Yes, but they're not shell-proof. They have to be deeper in the
ground than this to be safe from high explosive shells."
The two young soldiers continued along the trench. Many of the
dug-outs, similar to that they had just left, were in ruins. Jacques
was correct when he said they were not proof against the big shells.
Most of them were destroyed, the logs splintered to kindling-wood and
strewn far and wide over the ground.
"Where does this lead, do you suppose?" demanded Leon suddenly.
"Let's follow it and see," exclaimed Jacques readily.
A blind alley ran off from the main trench and it was this that the two
boys were following. There was a narrow doorway at the end of the
alley and through this they advanced.
"Another dug-out, I suppose," said Jacques.
"Looks like a real one," exclaimed Leon. "Whew!" he whistled in
amazement as he descended the stairs and stepped out into the
underground room.
"Say," said Jacques warmly, "some general must have lived here."
"I should think as much," agreed Leon. "Just look around you; rugs on
the floor, pictures and mirrors on the wall."
"And a wonderful stove; let's make some tea," cried Jacques eagerly.
"Where's the tea?"
"There must be some here; there seems to be everything else."
A short search soon produced tea and crackers; a fire was started in
the stove and water was put on to boil. Tea was always in demand by
the soldiers; it was their favorite beverage in the trenches.
"Isn't this great?" exclaimed Leon. "War wouldn't be so bad if we only
had places like this to live in."
"Did you notice that there were two entrances?" asked Jacques.
"Yes, one at each end. I suppose that's in case the trench should cave
in and block up one passage-way you could still get out the other side."
"Pull up a chair, Leon," exclaimed Jacques. "We might as well be
comfortable as long as we can."
The two soldiers sat by the fire and sipped their tea and chatted. Now
and again a dull roar told them that the Germans were still busy and
that they still had their opponents, the French, in mind.
"Do you suppose we could be hurt down here?" remarked Leon.
"If one of those big German shells happened to strike squarely over us
I guess we'd be hurt all right," said Jacques.
"It would have to be a direct hit though."
"That's true and I don't believe there is much chance of its happening.
This seems to me about the safest spot I've seen."
"Too bad the others don't know about it," said Leon.
"Listen," warned Jacques. "Here comes somebody now."
A moment later six soldiers filed into the dug-out. They were men from
the _douzième_, but belonged to a different company from that of which
Leon and Jacques were members.
"Come in," cried Jacques cordially. "Have some tea."
No second invitation was needed and the eight soldiers were soon
grouped around the fire, sipping canteens of hot tea. Everyone was as
enthusiastic as Leon and Jacques had been and life seemed worth while
once more. The time was short, however; it soon became necessary for
our two young friends to leave and go back to their post.
They said good-by to their comrades and made their way outside. Coming
to the little alley that led to the dug-out they stopped and listened
to the artillery duel.
"The Germans are tuning up again," remarked Jacques.
"They certainly are," agreed Leon. "Did you ever notice how you can
tell from the sound a shell makes going through the air just what kind
it is?"
"Yes, and you can judge their direction and where they're going to fall
too."
Suddenly Jacques grasped Leon fiercely by the arm. "Look out," he
cried in terror, and threw himself and his companion prone upon the
floor of the trench.
He had heard a sound which he knew meant danger and possibly death; the
awful whistling roar of a high explosive.