CONCLUSION
"A gas attack," said a soldier to Jacques as he and his two companions
hastened out of the cottage and started to climb into the ambulance.
"The Boches using gas again?" exclaimed Jacques. "That's bad."
"That means work for the ambulances and hospitals," remarked Leon
soberly. "That's the worst death of all."
"But we all have masks," said Earl.
"Thank goodness we have!" muttered Jacques. "All ready?"
"Go ahead," cried Leon and Earl together, and the big ambulance shot
forward with a rush as Jacques let in the clutch and pressed his foot
upon the accelerator.
A moment later they swung out into the broad highway and sped down the
road towards their destination. They were headed for one of the small
receiving points a short distance behind the lines where the wounded
were brought by the Red Cross units. From these places the ambulances
picked up the men and transported them to the base hospitals; from
there they were moved, if possible, to different hospitals throughout
France and England.
Night and day the doctors, nurses, ambulance drivers and the Red Cross
work. Often they are under fire and they exhibit marvelous nerve and
courage in every conceivable emergency. There are many heroes of the
war who never fired a gun.
At top speed Jacques urged the ambulance down the road. The night was
still dark, and, with the scanty lights permitted them, it was almost
impossible to see the road clearly. Jacques seemed to take it for
granted that conditions were all right, for not once did he slacken his
pace.
The roads behind the battle-lines are marvels of construction and
usually as smooth as the top of a table. Over these roads travel the
trucks that are the life-blood of the armies, for they supply the
material with which to fight. Consequently it is no cause for surprise
that the highways are well cared for.
"I suppose we'll be busy for a long while now," said Earl as they
bowled along the road.
"Yes, there'll be plenty who'll need attention after, this attack,"
said Jacques.
"We're safe for a while anyway," remarked Leon. "I wonder why they
sent us to do this instead of making us fight?"
"The _douzième_ will have to be reorganized now," said Jacques. "The
men remaining will need rest and a chance to recover; that is probably
why we were detailed to this ambulance."
"We're comparatively safe here anyway," said Leon. "That is some
consolation, though I'd just about as soon be fighting."
"We're safe unless a shell happens to--" began Jacques, when he was
suddenly cut short.
There was a violent jar; the steering wheel was torn from Jacques'
grasp; the big ambulance rocked crazily and then pitched forward. The
three boys were thrown headlong from their seats.
* * * * * *
Earl looked about him. He was in a long room with high ceilings and
his surroundings seemed very unfamiliar to him. He was lying flat on
his back and he tried to rise; a heavy weight seemed to hold him down
and he felt a dull pain in his leg. He discovered that he was lying in
a bed.
He turned his head to one side and spied another bed; in fact the room
was filled with them. He was in a hospital, but how had he been
wounded? He had no recollection of it. Every bed had an occupant;
Earl looked the other way and the same sight met his eye. In the bed
to his left, much to his amazement, he discovered Jacques. So he too
was wounded. How had it all happened? Suddenly he remembered the
ambulance and the violent jar they had received; that must have been it.
A white-clad nurse approached his bed.
"Are you comfortable?" she inquired gently.
"Yes," said Earl, "but how did I get here? What happened?"
"You and your brother and your friend were in an ambulance and ran into
a shell hole. You were all thrown out and your leg was broken."
"Is my brother here?" demanded Earl eagerly. "Where is he?"
"In this next bed."
Leon looked to his right. "That fellow with the bandages all around
his head?" he exclaimed in alarm. "What is the matter with him?"
"He has concussion of the brain; his head is also cut."
"Is it dangerous?"
"I think not now."
"Thank goodness!" said Earl fervently. "How about Jacques?"
"He is only badly bruised," smiled the nurse. "He is asleep now."
"What do you think of us?" demanded Earl disgustedly. "We fight in the
first line trenches for months, in the biggest war in the history of
the world, and we go up in monoplanes and fight battles in the air. In
fact we do about everything dangerous there is to do and no harm comes
to us at all. Then we go out in an automobile and get all smashed up;
that's a fine way to be wounded in war. It makes me sick!"