THE LAST FIGHT
“They must be getting ready for an advance, or else they are trying
to hold back the advance of our own men.” Such was the thought of the
young lieutenant as the German battery continued to pound away with
unusual vigor.
The bombing soon covered a distance of many miles, showing that a move
of some sort was either taking place or was contemplated.
“Maybe if there is a real battle it will give me a chance to get
through the lines,” Dave reasoned, and his heart gave a bound of hope.
If he could only get through quickly and reach headquarters, perhaps
the maps and documents he had confiscated from the enemy might prove of
great value to the Americans.
Climbing a tree, our hero surveyed the situation as well as the
semi-darkness permitted. He could see numerous flashes of fire from the
great German guns along a line which stretched out as far as his eye
could reach.
The young lieutenant knew he would be running a tremendous risk to
attempt to pass through that line, and yet he felt he must undertake
to do this if he was to escape at all. He descended from the tree, and
with great caution moved slowly through the brushwood, making sure
of every step that was in front of him. Once or twice he thought he
was coming upon a German guard, but these alarms proved false, and he
continued on his way with as great caution as before.
As he advanced he presently made out the forms of a small body of men
moving across a corner of a field in the direction of a patch of timber
much mutilated by artillery fire. Even at that distance and in such a
dim light, he felt sure that the moving men were Germans.
“It’s a night raid of some sort,” he reasoned. “Maybe they are going
over to see if they can’t get hold of some Americans and make them
prisoners. Probably they want some information and that is the only way
they can get it.”
Hardly knowing why he was doing it, Dave followed the Germans until he
saw them disappear among the trees of the wood. Then he came to a hole,
and just as some star shells flamed forth, lighting up the scene, he
dropped down into this.
For several seconds the light in the hole was quite distinct, and
during that time our hero made a discovery that shocked him. A German
lay in the hole, holding his rifle in his hands as if ready to use the
weapon instantly.
With a quick leap Dave sprang for this man, taking him completely by
surprise. The fellow struggled to rise, but the young lieutenant held
him down, and at the same time made a quick grab for the gun, tearing
it from the German’s grasp.
“_Kamerad! Kamerad!_” yelled the German, when Dave turned the weapon
around and pointed it at his head. “_Kamerad!_” he repeated, and at the
same time both of his hands went high into the air.
“Quiet!” ordered Dave in German, and the fellow understood and kept
still. Then our hero made the man turn around in the hole and, watching
him carefully, deprived the fellow of his ammunition.
With the gun and the bayonet ready for use, our hero felt somewhat
relieved. If attacked, he would now have a chance to defend himself.
With the dying out of the star shells the darkness again settled over
that vicinity. Dave ordered the man to move out of the shell-hole, and
then told him to march on, keeping his hands up as before. The fellow
walked with a slight limp, showing that he had either been wounded or
had hurt himself.
Knowing that the body of Germans he had seen must still be in the
wood, Dave gave that vicinity a wide berth, moving somewhat to the
southward. This presently brought him to another small strip of wood.
And then the unexpected happened.
As if by magic fully a dozen Germans leaped up from where they had been
concealed. All pointed their guns at him, but not a shot was fired,
for, as he had surmised, several detachments were out in an endeavor
to obtain prisoners from whom they expected to elicit much-needed
information.
The young lieutenant’s fighting blood was up. He had no desire to go
back to a German prison, and the instant the enemy showed themselves,
he began to blaze away with his rifle, running at top speed for the
shelter of the wood as he did so. He had the satisfaction of seeing one
of the Germans go down, and a second quickly followed. Then came the
discharge of several of the enemy’s firearms, and Dave felt a hot flash
of pain through his right side.
“I’m shot! They’ve got me!” was the thought that flashed through his
mind, and yet he did not stop, but continued to run and to use his gun.
After him, but at a distance, came the Germans, determined to make him
a prisoner or shoot him down.
“Stop!” came the sudden cry from in front of our hero, and he saw
several soldiers rise up from the brushwood, all leveling their rifles
at him. “Hands up!”
“Are you Americans?” questioned Dave quickly, for the darkness was too
intense for him to distinguish what they were.
“You bet!” was the laconic response. “Who are you?”
Dave told them, advancing as he did so. And then he added quickly:
“There are about a dozen or fifteen German soldiers after me--some kind
of raiding party.”
“That’s the party we are after,” was the quick reply, from a captain
who was commanding the Americans. “Boys, are you ready to round them
up?”
“We sure are!” was the ready response.
“Can you show us just where those fellows are?” questioned the captain
of Dave.
“I can! They were after me just a minute ago. They must be lying low in
yonder brushwood. If you had a few hand-grenades you could get every
one of them.”
“We’d rather surround them and take them as prisoners,” returned the
captain. “I think I’ve got just the men here to do it.”
He had about thirty-five men with him, all of whom had volunteered for
the night expedition. He quickly explained what was wanted, and then
the men spread out, one party going to the right and the other to the
left of where the Germans had last been seen.
“Can’t I go along, Captain?” questioned Dave eagerly. “I had one
prisoner a few minutes ago, but those fellows stole him away from me.”
“Of course you can go if you want to, Lieutenant,” was the captain’s
reply. “I reckon you are spoiling for a fight just as we are,” he
continued. He was a Southern military man and well known for his daring.
The Americans advanced quickly but with caution, and before they knew
it the Germans found themselves cut off in the rear. They put up a
short and stiff fight, in which one of their men was killed and three
were wounded, and then they surrendered.
In this contest Dave distinguished himself by bringing down one of the
enemy and also in recapturing the German who had a little while before
gotten away from him.
All of the prisoners were rounded up, disarmed, and made to march
toward the American lines. While this was being done Dave staggered
over to the side of the American captain.
“I’ve been wounded in the side, Captain,” he said. “I don’t believe
it’s very serious, but at the same time I am feeling rather weak. I
have important maps and documents with me which I stole from the German
headquarters. I wish to get these to our headquarters just as quickly
as possible. Will you help me to do it?”
“I certainly will, Lieutenant,” was the ready response. “Do you want
me to send some of the men to headquarters with the documents or do
you want to go yourself? If you would rather go yourself, I’ll send a
couple of men to assist you.”
“I think I’d rather go myself,” answered Dave, with a faint grin. “But
I’ll have to fix up my wound first.”
With a first-aid kit the slight wound in Dave’s side was taken care
of temporarily, and then, in company with two of the soldiers, the
young lieutenant tramped off in the direction of the American field
headquarters. He had previously learned that the engineering unit to
which he was attached was located several miles away.
Fortunately the distance to headquarters was not great, and the young
lieutenant and those with him arrived there at midnight. Dave was about
all in, yet he managed to make his report and deliver the maps and
documents he had taken from the German headquarters.
“This is certainly fine work, Lieutenant Porter,” said one of the
commanding officers, who was in charge. “Very fine work indeed! These
maps and documents may prove of great importance.”
“I hope so, sir. That is why I took them,” answered the young
lieutenant in an unsteady voice. Then, of a sudden, all seemed to grow
black before his eyes and he staggered and would have fallen had not
some of those around supported him.
“This strain has been too much for you, Lieutenant,” said another of
the officers kindly. “I think we had better turn you over to one of our
doctors immediately.” And this was done, and Dave was given the best of
medical attention. Then he was fed and put to bed, and in a short while
was in sound slumber. This was in one of the dugouts, where he was safe
from the bombardment, which still continued.
Early on the following morning another advance was made by the
Americans. This was due in part to the maps and documents which Dave
had brought in and which proved the weakness of the Germans at one
point on the line. This point was carried a few hours later by our
troops; and then followed a general advance which continued almost
uninterruptedly for three days.
“We’ve got ’em on the run!” was the cry of the Americans, and it proved
true. The Germans were practically beaten, although they were still
holding out as well as they possibly could, hoping in the meantime that
their rulers might make some satisfactory terms with those who opposed
them.
It was a rather pale and weak Lieutenant Porter who entered the camp of
the engineers just as the fierce three days’ fighting had come to an
end. He had already sent in word over a field telephone that he was
alive and was coming, so that his chums were not as much surprised as
they would otherwise have been. Yet they hailed his advent with great
joy.
“It’s the best news yet, Dave!” cried Roger, grabbing him around the
waist. “The very best yet!”
“You can’t imagine how bad we felt when we thought the Germans had
killed you,” put in Phil.
“We went on all sorts of hunts for you,” added Ben. “But, of course, we
didn’t find you, and we couldn’t imagine what had become of you.”
“I suppose you don’t know yet how I happened to be missing,” said our
hero. “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell it to you just as soon as I’ve
rested.”
“We know something of the truth,” answered Roger, and a stern look
crossed his face. “We know who assaulted you and rolled you down into
the abandoned mine.”
“You do!” exclaimed Dave, in surprise. “That’s more than I know! Who
did it?”
“Max Gebauer and Nat Poole.”