Sure enough, there they were outside, about to be herded into
a detention pen that was already prepared for them. They were
dull-looking men, still half stunned, in dirt-gray uniforms, looking
like slugs or earthworms, sullen and angry at being captured by
Americans. The officer said 120 had been counted up above already, and
added: "Hope we get enough to even up for Seicheprey."
The soldier was triumphant. "I went with the first wave," he said. "We
got to a sort of trench, and all of a sudden the boches jumped right
up in front of us and started to throw grenades. We went at 'em with
grenades, bayonets, rifles, pistols, whatever came handy. I spitted
one big fellow on my bayonet, but the bayonet stuck. So I pulled out
my trench knife and went for another, but he yelled 'Kamerad!' so I
grabbed his gun and hit a third over the head with it. There were
grenades busting all around, but I could hear our fellows shouting 'Go
to it, Yanks!' the same as they did all the way over No Man's Land.
"Pretty quick all the boches were yelling 'Kamerad!' and putting up
their hands. The Captain told me to herd these together and get them
down quick so they could be questioned. There's about a hundred more up
in the woods cut off by the barrage."
A little later the wounded began coming back to the dressing stations
which had been specially prepared. The wounded were all cheerful,
saying, "We went right through 'em--nothing to it--go back and do it
again tomorrow." Every man asked only two things: "How many boches did
we get?" and "Have you got a cigarette?"
These are the real victors of Cantigny. When all's said and done, the
staff may plan, guns may fire, tanks may crawl, but the common infantry
soldier is the real hero of all.