REMI THE BRAVE
"He was a little French peasant lad, this boy Remi that I shall tell
you about, and had just passed his tenth birthday when the Germans
invaded his beloved country," began the Captain.
"Remi continued on at school in spite of the excitement about him, for
everyone was talking about the war, but his heart was with the
soldiers whom he knew were marching forth in thousands to meet the
enemy. One day his father was called to the colors and the child was
left in the care of an uncle.
"Now, this uncle belonged to a military organization called the
Territorials, something like our National Guard, and a few weeks later
they also were called to march forth and join the French Army. Remi
was to be left in the care of the neighbors. That was the plan made by
the uncle. The little French lad, however, had his own ideas about
that, but kept his plans to himself. He now forgot all about going to
school, and spent his time watching his uncle's comrades
drill--watched until he knew every command, every evolution so well
that he himself could have drilled the company of his uncle.
"As you children perhaps already have surmised, it was Remi's plan to
go to war and fight for his country. The order for the Territorials to
move came suddenly, as such orders most always do. They came while the
lad was having a supper of black bread and cheese with a friendly
housewife of the neighborhood. The Territorials were to march within
an hour.
"Remi's eyes grew bright. He stowed what was left of his meager supper
into his blouse and strolled out. Once clear of the house, he ran
swiftly to the edge of the village, and from the end of a hollow log
drew forth a canvas bag. He inspected the contents, which included a
knife, some string, a clean pair of stockings and one change of
underwear. He had picked up an old pack discarded by a soldier, and
made it his own, secreting it for just such a moment as this. The
child stowed his belongings back in the pack, added the cheese and
bread, and, swinging the pack over his shoulder, started at a brisk
trot for the gathering place of the Territorials. The men of his
uncle's company already had reached the scene, loaded down with
equipment, rifles brightly polished, looking very warlike with their
outfits and tin derbies--"
"What's a tin derby?" interjected Joe Funk.
"There, you have interrupted me," rebuked the Captain. "Remember, a
soldier's first duty is to obey orders. A tin derby is a steel helmet
or hat which is used as a protection against the splinters thrown off
from an exploding shell. Where was I?"
"In a tin derby, sir," reminded Joe Funk.
"Little Remi," continued the Captain, "kept in the background and, in
the excitement of the moment attracted no attention. Shortly after his
arrival the Territorials fell into line and started away. Remi melted
away in the darkness, and might have been observed legging it across a
field in a short cut to a point where he knew the soldiers would pass.
And, after they had marched by he fell in at a safe distance behind
and trudged along on his way to war.
"Daylight came; the men halted for breakfast, and the boy, secreting
himself by the roadside, munched his bread and cheese and waited for
the soldiers to resume the march. All day long he followed them as
closely as he dared, but early in the second evening he made bold to
draw up to the rear rank and plodded along behind it until they halted
for rest. Suddenly the lad felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He found
his uncle frowning down upon him.
"'What are you doing here?' demanded the uncle severely. 'Home with
you as fast as you can go!'
"'But, uncle, I wish to be a soldier. I am little but I am strong.
See, I have marched a day and a night and you, my uncle, are weary,
while Remi is still fresh as the morning flowers.'
"'Yes, but what can you do in the Army, my Remi?'
"'I can fight,' answered the child simply, whereat the uncle shrugged
his shoulders in token of surrender.
"At first the officers were for sending the lad home, but he was
making himself so useful in many little ways, and his patriotism was
so deep and true that he finally was permitted to remain.
"What most disturbed Remi was that he had no rifle. The soldiers
laughed at him when he demanded one, so he determined to get one for
himself at the first opportunity.
"By this time they were well within sound of the big guns. The sound
reminded him of a distant thunderstorm. It grew louder as the hours
passed and the men neared the front. All understood what the sound
meant. To Remi that distant roar was the sweetest music he ever had
heard.
"The Territorials finally were halted in a shell-torn village for a
brief rest. Men were urgently needed at the front, and Remi's
companions soon entered a communicating trench that began under a
house in the village, and started for the firing line, a short
distance from the German trenches. Remi was sternly ordered to remain
behind. This order nearly broke his heart and, when he more fully
realized that he had been left behind, he sat down and gave way to,
bitter tears.
"A peculiar whistling sound in the air suddenly attracted his
attention. The strange sound grew louder. He stood up. Then, with a
mighty crash and roar, the earth about him rose up and darkness
overwhelmed him. A German shell had landed fairly in the village
street hard by and half buried the child in the wreckage. Remi,
bruised and with clothing torn, dug himself out practically unharmed.
He shook his fist in the direction of the German lines.
"'The Boches!' he breathed, clenching both fists. 'I _must_ have a
rifle. Having none, I am good for nothing.'
"For a few moments he stood observing the stretcher men gathering up
those who had been wounded in the explosion. He did not quail at sight
of the maimed forms before him--he was unafraid, but his childish face
drew down into hard lines that made him look years older. He knew now
that he must join his company and fight for France. After what he had
seen nothing should hold him back. Perhaps once at the front he might
find a gun. Remi tried to enter the communicating trench, but was
stopped by a sentry. He was still undaunted. It was the odor of
cooking that finally led to the solution of his problem. He followed
his nose, as the saying goes, because he was hungry. He found the
cooks at work, as he learned, preparing food to be carried to the men
in the front-line trench. The boy promptly offered his services to
help carry in the food. You see, Remi used his head.
"'What nursery do you belong to?' jeered the mess sergeant.
"'Thirty-first Territorials, Company C,' answered the lad promptly,
his quick reply bringing a laugh in which the mess sergeant joined
heartily.
"'All right, take a load of coffee and follow the leader, but if you
spill so much as a drop of it you'll face a firing squad at daybreak.'
"Two heavy containers filled with hot coffee, suspended from a yoke
that fitted over the shoulders, were placed on the lad. The soldiers
expected to see him collapse under the heavy load, but Remi stood up
very straight and awaited the command to go forward. He was stronger
than they thought he was. The journey through the dark trenches was a
long one, made thrilling by the Germans, who were trying to drop
shells into them as the food was coming up to the front line. The
'chow' carriers, however, arrived safely at Company C's station and
Remi had every drop of coffee that he had started out with.
"'Well, here I am,' he announced loudly. 'Remi wants a gun, he wants
it right away, and then he wants to see a Boche.'
"'You'll see him sooner than you expect if you don't lower your
voice,' rebuked a soldier.
"At that moment a star-shell shot high up into the air and, bursting,
flooded the space between the French and German lines with a brilliant
light. Remi peered over the top of the parapet and across the 'No
Man's Land' of which he had so often heard, over its barbed-wire
entanglements and on to the parapets of the German trenches.
"'Why do they do that?' he questioned.
"'To see if any of our patrols are out there nosing about. You see, we
send out night patrols to find out what the enemy is doing,' he was
told.
"'I, too, shall be a night patrol,' declared the lad confidently.
"Unmindful of the desperate chance he was taking, Remi, watching his
opportunity, slipped over the top of the French trench and began
crawling toward the enemy lines. He did not know where the openings in
the wire entanglements were located, but, being small, he was able to
crawl under. Now and then he saw other figures slinking about out
there, but he took good care that they should not see him, and, when
another star shell was fired, he flattened himself on the ground, face
downward, and thus avoided detection. So intent was he, however, in
watching for enemy patrols that he actually bumped into the parapet of
the German trench before he knew it. The boy flattened himself on the
ground and listened. He heard low-toned conversation mingled with
German snores in the trench, and sniffed contemptuously. Raising a
hand to pull himself up to the top of the sandbags, he struck
something sharp. It was the point of a bayonet. Remi's hand crept
cautiously along and the lad barely escaped an exclamation, for here,
right in his hand, was a German rifle aimed toward his own lines,
ready to be fired at his beloved French comrades.
"Cautiously drawing the weapon over the parapet, he caressed it
affectionately, then started to crawl back toward his own lines with
his precious find.
"'At last Remi has a rifle, and none shall take it from him,' he
muttered triumphantly. 'See what I have!' he cried after having been
challenged and hauled into his own trench. 'I took it from the
thickheads over there. I--' He said no more, for his comrades were
hugging him delightedly. They hurried the child off to the captain of
his company, who, after listening to the story, embraced Remi.
"'Ah, you are a true Frenchman,' cried the officer. 'Keep
the gun and use it for our beloved France.'
"'I will,' promised Remi solemnly.
"Two nights later he stole out and fetched back five more German
rifles. By this time the officers began to realize that the boy must
be taken seriously. From that night on almost every night found the
intrepid lad skulking about over 'No Man's Land,' many times with the
enemy's machine gun fire snapping about his ears, but to which he gave
not the slightest heed. Remi truly seemed to bear a charmed life.
"One night after his company had returned to the front-line trench,
after a night's rest in 'billets,' he went out with the patrol, as
usual, but with a new plan in mind. By now he knew the arrangement of
the German trenches almost as well as did the men who occupied them.
There were ten in the patrol, and so great was the confidence of the
men in him that they virtually permitted Remi to act as their leader.
The patrol carried no rifles, only revolvers and stout clubs, like
policemen's night sticks. When the lad ordered the men to secret
themselves in a shell crater, they obeyed willingly.
"Remi reached the German trenches, along which he crept with ears and
eyes on the alert.
"'Who goes!' came a sharp, low-spoken command in German. At that
instant a German rose from the ground, where he had been crouching,
apparently watching the crawling figure of the little Frenchman. Remi
rose at the same time, a Boche bayonet pressing against his stomach.
"When the German sentinel discovered that the 'man' confronting him
was only a child, he threw back his head and laughed silently, his
bulky form shaking with merriment. That laugh cost the Boche his
liberty. Like a flash little Remi swept the bayonet aside and jerked
the rifle from the sentry's hands. He sprang back and pointed the
rifle at his amazed adversary.
"'Now march!' he commanded in a low, sharp tone. Straight to the shell
crater the little Frenchman drove his prisoner, thence sent the
captive to the French trenches with an escort. He then returned to the
German trench. As he thought it over the situation became clear to
him. The Germans had placed the sentry outside the trench to keep
watch while they slept, the night being a quiet one, neither side
having fired a shot since sundown. Knowing exactly what he wished to
do, the boy began cautiously removing the rifles from the parapet,
placing them on the ground in front of the trench. He accomplished his
purpose without disturbing the snores of the Boches.
"Having secured the enemy's rifles, Remi crept back to the shell hole,
where his comrades were anxiously awaiting his return.
"'Come,' he urged. 'We shall now capture the stupid fellows. They
sleep, the thickheads. Their rifles I have taken, their heads our
clubs shall find. All shall have the big headache when we have
finished with them.'
"The men of the patrol were amazed. They scrambled from the shell
hole, Remi already having explained what he proposed to do, ready and
eager for action. With the child in the lead they crept up to the
German trench. The Boches slept on, not a man was awake there. The
patrol spread out a little and gripped their clubs, for to use
revolvers would be to arouse the whole German line and start their
rifles, machine guns and artillery all going.
"'Now!' cried the little leader.
"The patrol sprang into the trench, Remi leading, encouraging his men
as they fought their way along with their stout clubs, the boy having
lost his when he slipped into the trench. He could plainly hear the
whacks of the clubs as the patrol brought them down on the heads of
the enemy, mingled with German growls and pleas for mercy, all of
which brought joy to the soul of little Remi.
"'Kamerad! Kamerad!' came cries along the length of the trench. This,
you children understand, is what the Boches say when they have had
enough.
"'Stop their noise! They'll have their whole army down on us. Over the
top and home with them as fast as you can. Gather up the rifles and
take them in,'" commanded the boy.
Prodded by the handy clubs, such of the Germans as had survived the
terrible beating willingly clambered over the top and were quietly
driven across 'No Man's Land' to the French trenches. Seventy-five
prisoners were taken in that raid, planned and executed by the
fearless little French boy.
[Illustration: "NOW MARCH!" HE COMMANDED.]
"The amazement of his comrades in Company C was beyond the power of
words to express. What was better still, the raid was productive of
much more than prisoners and rifles. It proved to be the most
important raid so far made on that sector, for information was
obtained from the prisoners that proved of great value to the French
army.
"A few days later the Territorials went back to their billets for
rest. On the morning following their arrival there, Company C was
called out with many other troops for review. Remi thought this was a
queer thing to do. He was puzzled and startled when his name was
called out as he stood in a rear rank. He was ordered to report to the
colonel of the regiment, who stood with his aides facing the lines of
soldiers, the latter at attention now. The heart of the little
soldier, for once, was filled with fear. He felt certain that the
colonel was going to send him home.
"Approaching the stern-looking officer, Remi halted, came stiffly to
attention and saluted with precision. The colonel gravely answered the
little fellow's salute. Remi looked very small and childish beside the
commanding figure of his colonel, and he was very much embarrassed at
being so singled out.
"'Remi, soldier of France, the Army and your country salute you,'
began the colonel. 'The hearts of both are filled with pride at your
brave deeds. You are an honor to the tri-color of our beloved France,
under the folds of which you now are standing. Were it possible for me
to do so I should make you no less than a captain. Your lack of years
puts such a reward beyond my power to give. I can, however, and I am
authorized so to do, to confer upon you the cross of war, given only
to men of proved heroism. Remi, I decorate you with this cross,' said
the colonel, stepping forward and pinning the medal to the little
soldier's breast, his aides standing at attention during the
impressive ceremony. 'Wear it with honor, my son, for our beloved
country.'
"The colonel then kissed the child on both cheeks.
"And Remi the bold, very pale and trembling, stammered his thanks, sat
down heavily, and, burying his face in his hands, burst into tears."