OUT IN NO MAN'S LAND
At exactly ten o'clock a cautious little party of nine men went through
an embrasure in their own fire trench and set stealthy feet upon No
Man's Land. Besides Lieutenant Redmond and the two non-coms, Jimmy and
Schnitzel, there were three veteran infantrymen and three from the
509th Regiment. Lieutenant Redmond was also of the veteran contingent.
Safely on the ground, they passed through a lane purposely cut for exit
in their own barbed wire. For a few feet they walked along, the officer
in the center. The sending up of a German star shell caused the whole
party to drop like a flash and hug the ground.
These star shells are used at night by both sides for the purpose
of illuminating No Man's Land. They are fired from a tube somewhat
resembling a pistol. When fired, they hang in the air for about twenty
seconds, giving forth a radiant, silvery light, highly betraying to a
scouting party.
Each member of the scouting party was armed with a bayonet and knife.
Lieutenant Redmond was the only one of them to carry a pistol. Should
they encounter a German patrol or scouting party they would be obliged
to engage in hand-to-hand combat with its members. Battles such as they
might have to engage in had to be fought out in the dark with noiseless
weapons. The crack of a rifle or a pistol would immediately draw down
upon the scouts the machine-gun fire from both sides, with the result
that neither Boches nor Sammies would escape.
Following the ascent into the air of the star shell that had flattened
the scouts to the ground, they separated, Lieutenant Redmond and two
infantrymen crawling away together, the others in pairs. The point
in their own sector from which they had made exit was nearest to the
German fire trench.
Jimmy found himself creeping slowly along over the rough, uneven
ground in company with one of the veteran Americans. On they went,
side by side, scarcely breathing. Frequently they had to flatten
themselves to the ground on account of star shells. Numerous shell
holes also afforded them considerable cover. They had to be specially
careful, however, of these same holes. To drop suddenly into one of
them, unawares, they were likely to make enough noise to attract the
attention of some sharp-eared enemy scout or perhaps a Boche sentry.
Little by little the two wormed their way across No Man's Land until
at length they reached the Boche wire entanglements. Here the two
separated, to travel in opposite directions along the wire, feeling
every inch of it to determine if it were open at any point. The patrol
had been divided so that each man had a certain section of enemy wire
to account for.
His first feeling of nervousness vanished, Jimmy was beginning rather
to enjoy his nocturnal adventure. Strongly imbued with the spirit of
daring, this hazardous expedition appealed to him immensely. His right
hand grasping his bayonet, his left lightly investigated the wire as he
moved slowly along.
Instantly afterward his heart almost skipped a beat. His alert ears had
caught the sound of voices, speaking in the guttural Boche tongue. He
knew that these voices proceeded from the enemy fire trench. He wished
he could understand German.
Pausing briefly to listen, he again started on. Grasping the wire, his
hand moved gingerly along it. He stifled a little gasp as the groping
hand suddenly dropped into space. Quick investigation revealed to him
that he had discovered the very thing he had been sent out to learn.
He had come upon a clean severing of the wires for a distance of about
two feet.
Jimmy also discovered something else in the same moment. He landed
squarely upon a form lying flat on the ground. Involuntarily a
whispered "Great Guns!" issued from his lips.
"Blazes!"
Jimmy's incautious utterance alone saved him from bayoneting his own
bunkie, Franz Schnitzel. Had Schnitzel not recognized him and whispered
his name, Jimmy's bayonet would have done its deadly work.
In the darkness the two clung to each other without speaking. Each was
trembling at the narrowly averted tragedy. As they lay there, the sound
of voices from the trench could be plainly heard.
A quick pressure of his arm by Schnitzel informed Jimmy that Schnitz,
at least, could understand what was being voiced by the near-by enemy.
Still holding to Jimmy's arm, Schnitzel began to edge along. Obediently
Jimmy followed him in the direction from which the German-American had
come when the two bunkies had fallen over each other. A few feet and
Jimmy understood. They were descending into a shell hole directly below
the barbed-wire entanglement.
Hardly had they reached it when a star shell went up and hung directly
over the spot they had just left. The shell crater was deep enough,
however, to convince them that they could not have been seen from the
enemy's fire trench.
For half an hour they lay there, scarcely making a movement, while
Schnitzel listened to the talk that went on in the trench. One of the
voices heard almost continually had a harsh, authoritative ring. It
gave Jimmy the impression that it must undoubtedly belong to a German
officer. He wished he could understand what the Boche was saying.
At last Jimmy felt Schnitzel's hand press over his body until it
reached his head. An instant and Schnitzel's lips against his left ear
breathed:
"Back to our lines quickly!"
Immediately the German-American began wriggling along, Jimmy following.
Presently they were out of the shell hole and had turned themselves
toward their own lines. Although the scouting party had started out
together, the men had been ordered to return singly or in couples to
the American lines, using their own discretion as to the length of time
they remained out.
Now began the ticklish task of crawling safely back to their own
trenches. The nearer they came to the center of No Man's Land the
greater grew their danger. Jimmy knew that Schnitzel's desire to reach
the American trenches quickly meant that he had learned something of
decided importance.
Coming to a shell hole a little over halfway across the danger land,
Schnitzel pulled him into it. One side of this crater projected over,
forming a little cave underneath it. Into this, as far back as he could
go, Schnitzel piloted Jimmy.
"Listen," he breathed. "I've got to tell you this in case anything
should happen to me before we get back. The Boches are going to try
another raid at four o'clock. They're going to open fire at two
o'clock. One of their crack Prussian regiments has just come into the
fire trench. No matter what our guns do, they're coming over, several
waves of them. They're going to use extra batteries of their biggest
guns to smash our defenses. They're after prisoners to torture. I heard
'em brag what they're going to do to the dogs of Americans. Now I'm
going to get out of here and beat it for our lines. Wait what you think
to be ten minutes, and then follow me. One of us surely will get back
with the word. Good-bye, Blazes. If I don't see you again I'd like you
to remember what I say now: 'You're the whitest guy I ever knew and I
love you!'"
"You're the bravest old sport I ever knew, and I'm all there with the
reciprocity stuff," Jimmy whispered tensely.
The two bunkies gripped each other's hands hard in the darkness. Then
Schnitzel began to crawl away and out of the crater.
Directly he had gone, Jimmy crouched in the little cave, his ears
straining to catch any sound that might proclaim disaster to his
bunkie. Save for the occasional hiss of an ascending star shell, he
could distinguish not even the faintest noise of a suspicious nature.
Waiting until he judged the ten minutes to have expired, he began his
own perilous exit from the shell crater. He knew that the cave itself
lay toward the German trenches. Crawling out of it he must continue
straight ahead. The open side of the crater was toward the American
lines. He could only hope that Schnitzel had also remembered this.
Climbing out of the hole, he decided upon a brave but reckless course
of action. Getting to his feet he started for his own trenches, running
lightly on his tiptoes. He knew that he was likely to crash headlong
into a shell crater, or that a star shell might suddenly outline his
upright running form with its silvery light. Still, he took a desperate
chance on his fleetness of foot to reach his goal. Not for nothing had
he won the hundred-yard dash at prep. school.
Luck was surely with him that night. He reached the American barbed
wires without a single mishap, was challenged by a sentry, and passed
on safely into the fire trench.
The first man encountered in the dugout, where he had been ordered to
report on return, was Lieutenant Redmond, who had just returned, his
uniform covered with mud and a gash across one cheek.
"Has Corporal Schnitzel returned, sir?" was Jimmy's anxious question.
"No. You are the first man back besides myself and one of the men who
went with me. My other man, Drayton, was killed. We had a fight with
two Boches. We killed both, but I lost a good man."
The lieutenant's voice was choked with anger. Drayton had been the best
man in his platoon.
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm glad you did up the Boches and got back safe. I
haven't time to tell you the details of what happened to Schnitzel and
me. The Boches are going to attack at two o'clock and come over at
four. A crack Prussian regiment is now in their trenches and----"
"Come with me to headquarters!"
With this explosive command the lieutenant dashed out of the dugout,
Jimmy at his heels. As he followed the officer's hurrying feet through
the trench, Jimmy's mind was not on the coming attack but on Schnitzel.
Had their good-bye in the little cave been a final farewell? Had No
Man's Land really "got" Schnitz?