A SHOW ON THE FRONT
While the fighting on the Verdun front was furious at times, with
prolonged spasms when the Germans seemed determined to recover the
territory they had lost to the French, there were also periods of almost
total calm.
During these quiet periods the members of the American escadrille were
sometimes hard pushed for ways in which to pass the time away, and amuse
themselves. Inaction fretted most of them, since they were endowed with
that restless spirit which seems to be the inherent trait of most
Americans.
Many were the expedients tried by means of which some amusement might be
extracted from life. Their daily business was so exciting that these
slumps left the aviators nervous and unhappy. It was like the sailor
who, bowling along under full pressure of canvas for weeks, in the old
days of the sailing vessel, suddenly found himself in the "doldrums,"
and becalmed for what might be an indefinite period--it was apt to wear
upon a nervous system that demanded work.
Of course the pilots were merry while at meals and during their loafing
periods; but every time one of their number returned from the front and
reported the inaction as still continuing, many deep sighs of discontent
would arise.
Then a clever thought occurred to some one of the men. Perhaps it was
suggested by a happy-go-lucky Irish aviator who was connected with the
British air forces, and wore the marks of distinguished service on his
arm and cap.
Sergeant Barney McGee had received a month's furlough in order to
recover from injuries which he had sustained. Instead of going back to
Ireland to spend his enforced vacation, as one might naturally expect
him to do, McGee put in the time visiting other parts of the long front
between Ypres and Verdun.
After all, there was nothing so very singular about that. Give an old
railroad engineer a week off, and presently you will discover him
spending the time loafing around the roundhouse, chatting with the other
engineers, and investigating things. His whole life being wrapped up in
his work his idea of a vacation consists of being free to watch his
fellows of the same craft work.
Sergeant McGee was an exceedingly droll chap. He spent a couple of weeks
with a French cousin who was also an aviator, and in time came to know
the jolly members of the Lafayette Escadrille. He grew to be exceedingly
fond of them all, and was in the mess-room nearly every night.
His idea was that they should get up a show to pass these dull evenings
away. If the enemy allowed them sufficient time they could even give a
public performance, and give the proceeds to the Red Cross.
It took like wildfire with the Americans, casting about at the time for
some way to kill dull care, and make the hours pass more quickly until
called to action again.
A survey developed the fact that there were a number in and out of the
Lafayette Escadrille who possessed a talent of some kind or other. This
one had a violin which he loved to play; and, while not a finished
artist, he was able to make real and lovely music by means of his clever
bow. Another, it turned out, had a good tenor voice, and knew many of
the most popular songs of the day. A third showed a talent for mimicking
well known people, particularly Americans of national fame. Several
agreed to black up, and give a humorous little minstrel skit that they
declared would set the house in a roar.
It was Barney McGee himself who most astonished the Americans, however.
At the first rehearsal he appeared before their astonished eyes dressed
to imitate a well known and popular moving picture star and he carried
out the part in a fashion that caused the wildest excitement. From that
moment the success of the show was assured.
They made feverish preparations, for no one could tell just when the
period of inaction would come to an end, and every available member of
the several fraternizing escadrilles be ordered to rush to the front
again, to take his life in his hands, and risk it hourly for the great
cause.
Tom and Jack both had parts in the entertainment. Jack made a good
"bones" for the minstrels, and he coaxed his chum to don a burnt-cork
face for that one evening, and show what he could do as a comedian of
parts.
They found a building in Bar-le-Duc that could be used, and which would
hold a respectable sized audience. Little preparation was needed save to
build a stage and get seating arrangements. Where chairs were not
available benches had to take their place. Lights were also provided,
and what few accessories they needed, such as curtains and stage
scenery, were improvised after a fashion.
In the spirit of fun that prevailed "any old thing went," as Jack
expressed it. The makeshifts that came to light when the performers
appeared dressed for their various parts were many and startling. They
had borrowed or begged anything that promised to answer the purpose from
a long-tailed French coat to a lady's highly colored shawl. Wigs had
been sent for, and Paris had responded with an assortment that left
nothing to be desired.
The members of the two French air squadrons whose headquarters were near
by, had entered into the affair with great zest. They blessed the little
Irish pilot for his suggestion. And Sergeant Barney McGee was on the
jump all day long, displaying all the sterling traits that distinguish
able generals and leaders of men.
The time approached when the entertainment was to come off. The
performers were sure of a full house, provided no war orders were issued
that would interfere with the arrangements.
"Since Fritz has kept quiet for so many dreary days now," one pilot was
heard to say on the morning of the entertainment, "let us hope we'll
have just one more peaceful evening to reap the reward of all this
training. It would break the heart of Sergeant Barney if the order came
for every one to buckle down to hard work just when his big show is
about to come off."
The weather man proved friendly, for he gave them a splendid day, with
the promise of a moonlight night. Besides, the cold had pretty well
vanished, and it was really becoming more seasonable, with the sun
warming the earth, and the mud drying up to a considerable extent.
When the show opened that night it was to a house jammed to the doors.
Even the windows were utilized for seating room; and crowds stood
without, unable to gain admittance.
"Some crowd, eh?" remarked Jack, as he watched the airmen, soldiers and
others pouring in.
"I should say so!" cried Tom. "I hope we make good."
It was certainly a unique performance, considering the fact that it was
given in a camp close to the battle lines; and that at any hour every
one of those who were dressed so fancifully and conducted themselves as
actors born to the stage, might be called on to mount to the clouds, and
perform their dangerous work of fighting for France, perhaps even giving
up their lives.
Loud applause greeted every individual act. The violin music drew tears
from eyes unused to weeping, because the strains of "Way Down Upon the
Suwannee River," "Home, Sweet Home," and other loved airs tenderly and
beautifully played, as they were, carried the Americans back again to
those near and dear, those whom they might never again see on this
earth.
The songs were rapturously applauded, and the singers forced to give
encore after encore. One youth who played the part of a little maid from
school, and sang in a sweet soprano voice, caused the greatest
enthusiasm of the evening; but then everything seemed to make a decided
hit.
Tom and Jack, as members of the minstrel troupe, did their parts well,
though neither professed to be a star of the first magnitude. They
certainly enjoyed seeing and hearing the others go through with their
appointed tasks. As for Sergeant Barney McGee, he drew the house down
every time he appeared on the stage in his quaint dress, and with the
famous walk that is the trade-mark of the character whom he represented.
Two-thirds of the entire show was soon carried out. Indeed, the rest was
to be more or less a repetition of preceding acts, though the pleased
audience seemed eager to sit for another hour, and applaud each turn
vigorously and uproariously.
However, it was not fated that the evening should pass entirely without
some interruption. Afterwards the actors, and those who had enjoyed the
performance from in front, agreed that they had been exceedingly lucky
as it was, and that "half a loaf was much better than no bread at all."
Those whose turns were finished remained, of course, as part of the
audience. Some of the black-faced artists lingered in the so-called
"wings" to watch what was going on, desirous of getting all the fun
possible out of the evening.
It was not a case of "eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die;"
but "have all the happy times you can, fellows, while the going is good,
for to-morrow we fight."
Sergeant Barney McGee was on again, and the audience was convulsed with
laughter over his ludicrous antics. He appeared to be a born actor and
mimic; and had they not known otherwise Tom and Jack could have declared
that the comedian who was under contract with an American film company,
and doubtless in California making pictures at that moment, had been
suddenly transported to the French fighting front to entertain the
soldiers.
Suddenly the laughter came to a stop. The building in which the show was
being held shook as though a violent thunderclap had rocked the earth.
This loud detonation that broke upon their hearing, however, was only
too familiar to all those army aviators. They understood its dread
meaning.
The enemy had taken this opportunity to send over a squadron of raiding
Fokkers to bomb the hangars of the French and American fliers at
Bar-le-Duc!