DETAILED TO SCOUTING DUTY
The joy of that meeting, even under such grim circumstances, can be
better imagined than described. To all it seemed unbelievable that
they should have been spared to fraternize once more. The tears raced
frankly down Ignace's smoke-blackened face as he crooned over Jimmy
in Polish. He could find no English in which to express his utter
happiness at seeing his best beloved Brother safe and sound. By common
consent the quartet sought a dugout for a few minutes' talk. They were
wild to compare notes.
"Take that handkerchief from your face," Jimmy commanded of Schnitzel.
"Where's your first-aid packet?"
"Gone. Used it on one of my men. It didn't do him much good. He went
West in my arms. This beauty spot on my cheek is nothing much."
Schnitzel's joy at seeing his friends vanished from his face, leaving
it doubly somber.
"I've only one whole man in my squad," he said. "Curse the Boches!"
"Amen!" agreed Roger savagely. "They lost me two good men. They
certainly soaked it to the fire trench."
"We went 'em one better," exulted Schnitzel. "Their artillery isn't in
it with ours. It's a wonder they didn't slam their own fire trench.
Some of those shells were aimed by Boche tailors, I guess. They
certainly went wild. But, oh, Boy! What our batteries did to their
trench was beautiful! Wish we'd gone over the top. We could have taken
their first trench easy as wink."
"That's what I thought," put in Roger. "I expected every minute to get
the order to go after 'em."
"We're too green yet, I suppose, for that," was Jimmy's opinion. "This
stretch in the trenches is really our practice turn. Next time in,
maybe, we'll get a chance to leg it across No Man's Land."
"That's what the Boches had up their sleeve," declared Schnitzel.
"They've been on pins to find out our strength and all that. They
haven't got much of a line on the Sammies yet. They'll know more about
us when we get through with 'em, those that are left alive."
"So think I. By my squad have I the one man see get the head shoot off.
Now will I soon the five Boche kill. So is it to pay the head this
poor man. This remember I when go over top. I will it do, I no get the
croak firs'," vowed Ignace vengefully.
"A Polish vendetta." Schnitzel smiled faintly. "A five to one
proposition like that suits me, though. I'll rid the earth of as many
Fritzies as I can. If ever I get one where I want him, the Kamerad
business won't go down with me. They say the dogs whine like anything
for mercy in a bayonet charge. Cold steel gives 'em the Willies."
Having won safely through their first trial by fire, the Khaki Boys
were full of rancor against the enemy. The horrible slaughter of their
comrades had given Hate fresh impetus.
Bob presently returned, his face neatly plastered. Another joyful
reunion took place between himself, Ignace and Schnitzel.
"Go and get your face fixed, Schnitz," he advised when the first
effusion of greeting was over. "The first-aid fellows have their own
hands full, but they'll do you up quick if you can get hold of one."
"I'm going to feed first," replied Schnitzel. "I didn't know I was
hungry until I saw you guys. Seeing you all to the good brought back my
appetite."
"I'm hungry, too. It's a queer game, isn't it? How a fellow can see
his comrades go West by the shell road and then feel like eating is a
puzzle to me," mused Roger.
"We're beginning to get used to the trenches," was Schnitzel's grim
opinion. "A few more scraps like this and nothing will faze us. If we
expect to be any good as fighters we've got to eat, no matter what
happens."
A little later the five bunkies found breakfast very palatable, even
after the horrors they had recently witnessed. The trench now fairly
clear of wounded and dead men, the survivors sat along the fire step
and hungrily devoured their stew and hot coffee.
After breakfast, sleep became the order of things, except for those
detailed to various trench labors, particularly that of completely
restoring the parapet. Men engaged in this task were relieved from time
to time by a fresh detail, thus enabling all to get a few hours' rest.
Except for occasional Boche shrapnel shells aimed principally at the
communication trenches, all remained serene.
A communication trench is not easy to hit, as it makes use of
everything available for cover. It is cut through the ruins of barns
or houses and seeks in every possible way to conceal itself from enemy
observation. As it must run indirectly at right angles to the fire
trench and thus toward the German, its zig-zag, tortuous windings are
necessary to keep it from being enfiladed by the enemy guns. When it
reaches a spot bare of bushes, ruins or similar protection, it makes
a quick turn to the right, then to the left, to the left once more,
forming a partial square, which prevents the preceding bit of trench
from being enfiladed.
It is generally about five feet deep and the earth taken from it is
piled up on each side, forming mounds. Stakes are driven into it to a
height of about two feet above its open top on each side, and between
these stakes expanded metal is stretched to keep the piled-up earth in
place.
Along the dirt walls on each side are rows of telephone wires. These
belong principally to the artillery batteries. Failing to get a direct
whack at a communication trench, the Germans are fond of shelling "at
it" nevertheless. In consequence, their shrapnel does much damage to
the top and sides of it. After a bombardment it keeps both engineers
and sappers (wiring men) busy putting it in order again. Often the
wires become so tangled that the various artillery signalers have great
difficulty in locating their own.
In going to an advanced first-aid dugout to have their slight wounds
dressed, Schnitzel and Bob had traveled back a little way through one
of these trenches. By daylight it was teeming with activity. They
passed sappers, engineers and various worried-looking persons, all of
whom were busy putting the place to rights after the attack of the
morning.
Bob, in particular, was so much impressed by what he had seen that,
before going to sleep after breakfast, he wrote down a detailed
description of the communication trench as it appeared to him. Proudly
exhibiting it to Roger, he met with a severe shock.
"You'd better tear that up quick," was Roger's stern advice. "You
mustn't carry it around with you. Suppose you got the order to go over
the top. You'd go and maybe get killed. Then some Boche might get hold
of that paper. It's information, you know."
"Oh, I'd tear it up if I knew I was going over," asserted Bob.
"You might forget to do it. Better be on the safe side and can it."
Grumbling a little, Bob reduced the fateful paper to bits.
"I guess I won't gather much data in this dump," was his regretful
opinion. "If I write it in billet and try to send it home to Mrs.
Blaise, the censor'll probably can it. I'll have to keep it all in
my head. If a shell takes my head off, it'll be a great loss to the
literary world and a greater one to Bobby."
"When the war's over and you get back to the U. S. you can scribble all
you want to and no one will stop you," consoled Jimmy. "Won't that be
nice?"
"Yes, when it is and when I do is something to gamble on," jeered Bob.
"Another such shindig as this morning and Bobby may be taking a little
trip West. I'm going to sleep and forget this pesky old ditch for a
while."
Awakened toward the middle of the afternoon to relieve men who had been
on duty, the five Brothers were kept busy by various tasks which they
were called upon to perform. Quiet still prevailing, evening drew on
with no signs of immediate hostilities on the part of the foe. All day
they had prudently kept the smoke curtain across their lines in order
to conceal their activities from the Americans.
Shortly before dark Jimmy Blaise was set aquiver with excitement
when he received information that he had been chosen to make one of
a scouting party who were to go out on a scouting expedition into No
Man's Land.
The party was to start out at ten o'clock and creep across to the
German lines in order to discover whether the Boches had repaired their
wire entanglements or had still left lanes in them, preparatory to
making a raid that night. They were also instructed to keep their eyes
and ears open for anything else that might fall to their lot to see or
hear.
Realizing that this scouting duty might be his last, Jimmy sought out
his bunkies for a farewell word. Though it was still light, the order
"stand to" had gone forth and half of the occupants of the front-line
trench ranged along the fire step with bayonets fixed and ready. The
other half were still resting in the dugouts.
"I'm going out as a scout," he informed Bob, who was nearest to him.
"You don't say! Take me along!"
"Wish I could. I don't know who all is in the gang. Lieutenant
Redmond's in command," Jimmy replied. "I've got to beat it and see the
fellows before dark. Now will be my only chance to get a word with 'em.
We're to start out at ten. See you again in a few minutes."
So saying, Jimmy went on down the trench to where Ignace, Roger and
Schnitzel were usually stationed. He was not sure whether they were on
duty or in a dugout. He soon came upon them. They were seated on the
fire step not very far apart.
Jimmy's news brought a shadow of deep gloom to Ignace's solemn face.
"I no like," he said sadly. "I would by you go the care you to take.
You no come back, I hope shail hit me then pretty quick."
"Cheer up, Iggins. I'll come back. Now shake hands. Not good-bye. Just
for luck. I'll see you again to-night all right."
Ignace looked his deep distress as he mournfully shook his Brother's
hand. He would not have minded going out on such a hazardous
enterprise, but he hated to see Jimmy go.
Roger accepted the news very quietly. There was a wistful look in his
blue eyes, however, as his hand met Jimmy's.
"Do be careful, Blazes," he urged. "Don't jump headfirst into something
without looking before you jump. You're too blamed venturesome for your
own good, you know."
"I'll be a regular slippery sleuth," Jimmy promised as he left Roger to
go on to Schnitzel. "Schnitz," he began, "I'm going out on a scouting
party. I----"
"So am I," was the amazing response.
"Under Lieutenant Redmond?" was Jimmy's excited query.
"Yep."
"Good work!" Jimmy brightened visibly. "Then we're in the same detail.
It certainly suits Blazes."
"That's fine," glowed Schnitzel. "I was going to wait till a little
later and tell you fellows. I intended to ask leave to have a word with
you and Bob before I went."
Together the two walked to where Roger and Ignace were stationed.
Pausing only to shake hands again with both, Jimmy went on to his
station, leaving Schnitzel with his other two bunkies.
Shortly afterward Schnitzel came to bid Bob farewell. The latter did
not look as cheerful as usual. Jimmy had already informed him that
Schnitzel was also to be one of the party. Two bunkies going on a
danger hike into No Man's Land made Bob feel rather downcast. He kept
his feelings to himself, however.
The same yearning light that had darkened Roger's blue eyes leaped into
Bob's black ones as he shook hands with Schnitz and wished him a safe
return. He could not help thinking that it would be a miracle if either
Schnitz or Jimmy Blazes got back from the detail alive.