THE DUNES
The escape of a prisoner of war from the American hospital ship was made
the subject of a rigid inquiry by the officials and proved extremely
humiliating to all on board the _Arabella_. The commandant showed his
irritation by severely reprimanding Mr. Merrick for carelessness, while
Captain Carg had to endure a personal examination before a board of
inquiry. He was able to prove that he had been at headquarters during
the evening of the escape, but that did not wholly satisfy his
inquisitors. Finally an order was issued forbidding the Americans to
take any more wounded Germans or Austrians aboard their ship, and that
seemed to end the unpleasant affair.
However, a certain friction was engendered that was later evidenced on
both sides. The American ambulance was no longer favored on its trips
to the front, pointed preference being given the English and French Red
Cross Emergency Corps. This resulted in few wounded being taken to the
_Arabella_, as the Americans confined their work largely to assisting
the injured on the field of battle. The girls were not to be daunted in
their determined efforts to aid the unfortunate and every day one of
them visited the trenches to assist the two doctors in rendering first
aid to the wounded.
The work was no longer arduous, for often entire days would pass without
a single casualty demanding their attention. The cold weather resulted
in much sickness among the soldiers, however, and Gys found during this
period of military inactivity that his medicine chest was more in demand
than his case of surgical instruments.
A slight diversion was created by Clarette, who came to the ship to
demand her husband from the Americans. It seemed almost impossible to
convince her that Maurie was not hidden somewhere aboard, but at last
they made the woman understand he had escaped with the German to
Ostend. They learned from her that Maurie--or Henri, as she insisted he
was named--had several times escaped from her house at night, while she
was asleep, and returned at daybreak in the morning, and this
information led them to suspect he had managed to have several secret
conferences with Lieutenant Elbl previous to their flight. Clarette
announced her determination to follow her husband to Ostend, and perhaps
she did so, as they did not see her again.
It was on Sunday, the twentieth of December, that the Battle of the
Dunes began and the flames of war burst out afresh. The dunes lay
between the North Sea and the Yser River in West Flanders and consisted
of a stretch of sandy hillocks reaching from Coxyde to Nieuport les
Bains. The Belgians had entrenched these dunes in an elaborate and
clever manner, shoveling the sand into a series of high lateral ridges,
with alternate hollows, which reached for miles along the coast. The
hollows were from six to eight feet deep, affording protection to the
soldiers, who could nevertheless fire upon the enemy by creeping up the
sloping embankments until their heads projected sufficiently to allow
them to aim, when they could drop back to safety.
In order to connect the hollows one with another, that an advance or
retreat might be made under cover, narrow trenches had been cut at
intervals diagonally through the raised mounds of sand. Military experts
considered this series of novel fortifications to be practically
impregnable, for should the enemy defile through one of the cross
passages into a hollow where the Allies were gathered, they could be
picked off one by one, as they appeared, and be absolutely annihilated.
Realizing this, the Germans had not risked an attack, but after long
study of the defences had decided that by means of artillery they might
shell the Belgians, who held the dunes, and destroy them as they lay in
the hollows. So a heavy battery had been planted along the German lines
for this work, while in defence the Belgians confronted them with their
own famous dog artillery, consisting of the deadly machine guns. The
battle of December twentieth therefore began with an artillery duel,
resulting in so many casualties that the Red Cross workers found
themselves fully occupied.
Beth went with the ambulance the first day, worked in the hollows of the
dunes, and returned to the ship at night completely worn out by the
demands upon her services. It was Patsy's turn next, and she took with
her the second day one of the French girls as assistant.
When the ambulance reached the edge of the dunes, where it was driven by
Ajo, the battle was raging with even more vigor than the previous day.
The Germans were dropping shells promiscuously into the various hollows,
hoping to locate the hidden Belgian infantry, while the Belgian
artillery strove to destroy the German gunners. Both succeeded at times,
and both sides were equally persistent.
As it was impossible to take the ambulance into the dunes, it was left
in the rear in charge of Jones, while the others threaded their way in
and out the devious passages toward the front. They had covered fully a
mile in this laborious fashion before they came upon a detachment of
Belgian infantry which was lying in wait for a call to action. Beyond
this trench the doctors and nurses were forbidden to go, and the officer
in command warned the Americans to beware of stray shells.
Under these circumstances they contented themselves by occupying some of
the rear hollows, to which the wounded would retreat to secure their
services. Dr. Kelsey and Nanette, the French girl, established
themselves in one hollow at the right, while Dr. Gys and Patsy took
their position in another hollow further to the left. There they opened
their cases of lint, plaster and bandages, spreading them out upon the
sand, and were soon engaged in administering aid to an occasional victim
of the battle.
One man who came to Patsy with a slight wound on his shoulder told her
that a shell had exploded in a forward hollow and killed outright
fifteen of his comrades. His own escape from death was miraculous and
the poor fellow was so unnerved that he cried like a baby.
They directed him to the rear, where he would find the ambulance, and
awaited the appearance of more patients. Gys crawled up the mound of
sand in front of them and cautiously raised his head above the ridge.
Next instant he ducked to escape a rain of bullets that scattered the
sand about them like a mist.
"That was foolish," said Patsy reprovingly. "You might have been
killed."
"No such luck," he muttered in reply, but the girl could see that he
trembled slightly with nervousness. Neither realized at the time the
fatal folly of the act, for they were unaware that the Germans were
seeking just such a clew to direct them where to drop their shells.
"It's getting rather lonely here, and there are a couple of vacant
hollows in front of us," remarked the doctor. "Suppose we move over to
one of those, a little nearer the soldiers?"
Patsy approved the proposition, so they gathered up their supplies and
moved along the hollow to where a passage had been cut through. They had
gone barely a hundred yards when a screech, like a buzz-saw when it
strikes a nail, sounded overhead. Looking up they saw a black disk
hurtling through the air, to drop almost where they had been standing a
moment before. There was a terrific explosion that sent debris to their
very feet.
"After this we'll be careful how we expose ourselves," said the doctor
gravely. "They have got our range in a hurry. Here comes another; we'd
better get away quickly."
They progressed perhaps half a mile, without coming upon any soldiers,
when at the brow of a hill slightly higher than the rest, they became
aware of unwonted activity. A trench had been dug along the ridge, with
great pits here and there to serve as bomb-proof shelters. Every time a
head projected above the ridge, a storm of bullets showed that the enemy
was well within rifle range. In fact, it was to dislodge the Germans
that the present intrenchments were being made; machine guns would be
mounted as soon as positions had been prepared.
The German bullets had already taken their toll. In the little valley a
poor Belgian pressed his hand against a bad wound in his side, while
another was nursing an arm roughly bandaged by his fellows in the
trenches. First aid made the two comfortable for the time being at least
and the men were directed toward the ambulance. As they left, the man
with the wounded arm pointed down the narrow valley to where a deep
ravine cut through. "We were driven from there," he said. "The big guns
dropped shells on us and killed many; there are many wounded beyond--but
you cannot cross the ravine. We lost ten in doing it."
Nevertheless, the doctor and Patsy strode off. Just within the shelter
of the ridge they found another Belgian, desperately wounded, and the
doctor stopped to ease his pain with the hypodermic needle. Patsy looked
across the narrow defile; it was a bare fifty feet, and seemed safe
enough. Her Red Cross uniform would protect her, she reasoned, and
boldly enough she stepped out into the open. A cry from a wounded
soldier ahead hastened her footsteps. Without heeding the warning shout
of Doctor Gys she calmly stooped over the man who had called to her.
And then there was a sudden rending, blinding, terrifying crash that
sent the world into a thousand shrieking echoes. A huge shell had fallen
not fifty feet away, plowing its way through the earthworks above. Its
explosion sent timbers, abandoned gun-carriages, everything, flying
through the air. And one great piece of wood caught Patsy a glancing
blow on the back of her head as she crouched over the wounded Belgian.
With a weak cry she toppled over, not unconscious, but unable to raise
herself.
Another shell crashed down a hundred yards away, and then one closer
that sent the sand spouting high in a blinding cloud. She raised herself
slowly and glanced back toward Doctor Gys. He stood, his face ashen with
fear, hiding behind the shelter of the other hill. He looked up as she
stirred; a cry of relief came to his lips.
"Wait!" he called, bracing up suddenly. "Wait and I will get you."
Bending his head low he sprang across the unprotected space. He stopped
with a sudden jerk and then came on.
"You were hit!" cried Patsy as he bent over her.
"It is nothing," he answered brusquely. "Hold tight around my neck."
"Now--" another shell scattered sand over them--"we must get away from
here."
Breathing thickly, he staggered across the open, dropping her with a
great groan behind the protection of the ridge.
"The man you were helping," he gasped. "I must bring him in."
"But you are wounded--" Patsy cried.
He straightened up--his hand clutched his side--there came across his
disfigured features a queer twisted smile--he sighed softly and slowly
sank in a crumpled heap. A clean little puncture in the breast of his
coat told the whole story. Patsy felt herself slipping.... All grew
dark.
* * * * *
It was Ajo who found her and carried her back to the ambulance, where
Dr. Kelsey and Nanette were presently able to restore her to
consciousness. Then they returned to the _Arabella_, grave and silent,
and Patsy was put to bed. Before morning Beth and Maud were anxiously
nursing her, for she had developed a high fever and was delirious.
The days that succeed were anxious ones, for Patsy's nerves had given
away completely. It was many weeks later that the rest of them met on
deck.
"It's the first of February," said Uncle John. "Don't you suppose Patsy
could start for home pretty soon?"
"Perhaps so," answered Maud. "She is sitting up to-day, and seems
brighter and more like herself. Have we decided, then, to return to
America?"
"I believe so," was the reply. "We can't keep Ajo's ship forever, you
know, and without Doctor Gys we could never make it useful as a hospital
ship again."
"That is true," said the girl, thoughtfully. "Now that Andrew Denton,
with his wife and the countess, have gone to Charleroi, our ship seems
quite lonely."
"You see," said Ajo, taking part in the discussion, "we've never been
able to overcome the suspicious coldness of these Frenchmen, caused by
Elbl's unfortunate escape. We are not trusted fully, and never will be
again, so I'm convinced our career of usefulness here is ended."
"Aside from that," returned Uncle John, "you three girls have endured a
long period of hard work and nervous strain, and you need a rest. I'm
awfully proud of you all; proud of your noble determination and courage
as well as the ability you have demonstrated as nurses. You have
unselfishly devoted your lives for three strenuous months to the injured
soldiers of a foreign war, and I hope you're satisfied that you've done
your full duty."
"Well," returned Maud with a smile, "I wouldn't think of retreating if I
felt that our services were really needed, but there are so many women
coming here for Red Cross work--English, French, Swiss, Dutch and
Italian--that they seem able to cover the field thoroughly."
"True," said Beth, joining the group. "Let's go home, Uncle. The voyage
will put our Patsy in fine shape again. When can we start, Ajo?"
"Ask Uncle John."
"Ask Captain Carg."
"If you really mean it," said the captain, "I'll hoist anchor to-morrow
morning."