BREAKING THROUGH
There was a rush toward Will Stone, and in a moment the Army boys were
shaking hands with a vigor that showed the pleasure they felt at again
meeting their acquaintance, who belonged to the tank division.
"Say, fellows, have a heart," Will grinned. "I need these hands in my
business. But it sure does me good to see you again. And all of you
alive and kicking! I'll bet that's more than some of the Huns are that
you've run up against."
"Oh, we're still able to sit up and take nourishment," laughed Frank.
"But tell us about yourself, old man. You look like ready money."
"I see you have a marking different from what you had when we saw you
last," remarked Bart, looking at the insignia that proclaimed Will an
officer.
"And look at that war cross!" cried Tom. "I guess you've been some busy
little bee to get that. Shake again, old scout."
Stone flushed and looked a little embarrassed.
"Only a few little skirmishes here and there," he said deprecatingly.
"But the real big thing is yet to come. Look at this army of tanks.
We've never had so many in one place since the war began."
"Looks like a herd of elephants," commented Frank, as his eye ran along
the array that seemed to number hundreds. "They'll do more trampling
than any herd of elephants that ever trod the earth," remarked Stone
grimly. "But come along, fellows, and let me show you my own particular
pet. It's the biggest one of the bunch, and it's a peach! We call it
Jumbo, and it carries a crew of twenty men."
They followed him till they came to a monster tank on which Stone placed
his hand caressingly.
"Isn't it a beauty?" he asked, as he beamed upon them.
"I should call it a holy terror," grinned Frank.
"What the Huns will call it won't be fit for publication," laughed
Billy.
"I guess they've already exhausted the German vocabulary," chuckled
Stone. "But just wait until this beauty of mine goes climbing over their
trenches and smashing their pill boxes and tearing away their
entanglements. Then they'll know what they're up against."
"I only wish we could see you while you're doing it," remarked Tom.
"Likely enough you will," replied Stone. "From things I've picked up
here and there I think the infantry will be right alongside of us in the
next big jamboree. Don't you fellows make any mistake about it, there's
going to be one of the biggest stunts of the war pulled off in the
course of the next few days. Mithridates with his elephants won't be a
circumstance to us with our tanks. There sure is bound to be some lovely
fighting."
"Let it come!" exclaimed Tom.
"And come quickly," chimed in Frank.
"The only thing I'm sorry for is that you're in the Canadian
contingent," said Bart. "I want to see you leading the way in a U. S. A.
tank."
"You may yet," replied Stone. "Uncle Sam will soon be sending over his
tanks, and you bet when they do come they'll be lallapaloozers with all
the modern improvements, and then some! And the minute that happens I'm
going to apply to be transferred to the United States army. These
Canadians are among the finest men in the world and they're doing
magnificent fighting, but still I'll feel more natural when I'm fighting
under the Stars and Stripes."
"Well, that won't be long now," replied Frank. "Our men and our guns and
our tanks and everything else we need to lick the Kaiser will be coming
in droves pretty soon. And then watch our smoke."
"Right you are," agreed Stone enthusiastically.
Then as a trumpet rang out he added: "That's the signal for a rehearsal,
fellows, and I'll have to get on the job. We're going to put our
machines through their paces. I'm mighty glad to have seen you again,
and I wish you no end of luck."
"Come over to our line when you get a chance and see the way our boys
are shaping up," was Frank's invitation, which was echoed heartily by
the others.
"You bet I will," responded Stone, as with a wave of his hand he went to
his work, while the boys strolled back to their quarters.
"He's the real stuff," commented Frank. "All wool and a yard wide."
"He'd rather fight than eat," observed Tom.
"If the Canadians take him as a sample, no wonder they're glad to see
Uncle Sam mix in," remarked Billy.
Some days went by, days of steady rush and preparation. It was evident
that some big operation was near at hand. Troops were moved up from
other portions of the long line that stretched from Switzerland to the
sea. There were the bronzed Tommies in khaki, the snappy, dashing poilus
in their uniforms of corn-flower blue, veterans hardened in a score of
battles from Ypres to Verdun. And right alongside of them in closest
comradeship and gallant rivalry were the stalwart sons of the United
States of America, the very flower of her youth, who had already had
their baptism of fire and who had sworn to themselves that no flag
should be further in the van than Old Glory when it came to the stern
test of battle.
Nearer and nearer the tanks had crept to the front of the line and taken
up their places in front of great openings that had been made in the
wire entanglements and skilfully concealed from the enemy.
A certain number of them were assigned to lead each regiment, and the
Camport boys' delight was great when they saw that Jumbo, with a squad
of assisting tanks, had been told off to lead their regiment.
"Just what the doctor ordered," exulted Frank, when he saw Stone step
out of the door of the monster tank.
"We'll follow you, old man, till the cows come home," called Bart, as
the boys crowded around the young operator.
"We'll try to make a broad path for you," laughed Stone, as he returned
their greeting cordially.
"When is the show coming off?" asked Billy.
"Almost any time now, I guess," replied Stone. "About all we need is a
nice misty morning. It's up to the weather sharps to tip us off. Then
we'll amble over and give the Huns a little shaking up."
Several days passed with the weather exasperatingly clear. Usually the
soldiers would have welcomed the bright sunny mornings. But now, when
they were keyed up to a high pitch, the one thing they longed for was a
dull and lowering sky that would favor the great enterprise they had on
hand.
"You might think the boys were a lot of grangers after a dry spell, from
the way they're praying for rain," remarked Billy, as for the hundredth
time he scanned the sky.
"Remember how different it used to be when we had a baseball game on
hand?" laughed Frank. "Then a gleam of sunshine was like money from home
after you'd been broke for a week."
"That cloud a little while ago looked as though it might have had
thunder and lightning behind it," observed Bart, "but it was only a
false alarm."
"Nothing but wind, like a German bulletin," grinned Billy, stretching
himself.
"Or their U-boat prophecies," added Frank. "But cheer up, fellows, this
sunshine can't last forever."
There came at last just the kind of weather wanted. A soft drizzle set
in at nightfall, not enough to make the ground muddy, but enough to make
the steaming and saturated air lie heavy on the earth. Everything
indicated that there would be a fog at dawn.
"I guess to-morrow's the big day," remarked Frank, as he looked out at
the settling mists.
"High time," grumbled Tom. "I'd grow stale if we had to wait much
longer."
The regiments slept on their arms that night, and an hour before dawn
all were astir and in their places. There was no special artillery fire,
such as usually preceded big attacks. It was given to the tanks to level
the entanglements of the enemy and open up the gaps for the troops to
swarm through.
The hour dragged by until within ten minutes of the time appointed for
the assault. Then a monotonous hum filled the air as the motors of the
tanks tuned up. Down through the black lines of waiting soldiers the
gray monsters slowly made their way, passed through the gaps made in the
defences and led the way into the desolate stretch of No Man's Land.
Even to the friendly eyes that watched them there was something weird
and frightful in their aspect. It was as though the huge brutes of the
prehistoric world had taken form before them. Even those monsters had
never carried within them such death-dealing power.
As the sea closes in the wake of a ship, the troops fell in behind the
tanks, and the silent procession took up the march toward the German
lines.
Hardly a sound beyond the labored breathing of the tanks broke the
stillness. It might have been an army of ghosts.
On they went, and with every step the conviction grew that the surprise
would be complete. No thunder broke from the enemy guns. No fiery
barrage swept the dense ranks, exacting its toll of wounds and death.
For once the Hun was asleep.
Nearer and nearer. Then like so many thunderbolts at a hundred different
points they struck the German lines and the tanks went through!