VIGOROUS RED CROSS WORK
A mile from the town they came within sight of a cross road, filled with
an immense concourse, which seemed to be wending its way east.
Approaching nearer, they recognized troops, artillery and horsemen, the
latter moving along in the fields parallel with the roadway.
"It seems to me the firing is much nearer than when we started out this
morning," said Ralph.
As they passed through the marchers, and proceeded along the highway,
they saw that troops were noticed posted everywhere, and that batteries
were lying in wait in every advantageous spot.
"I think we made a mistake in taking this road. We should have traveled
the one which went to the west," said Ralph.
"Then let's go out the first road that crosses this," replied Alfred.
Meanwhile the sounds of battle came nearer and nearer. The artillery
posted on the elevation began to speak, and before there was time to
realize it the boys were within the battle zone, and bearing down on the
road along which they were traveling. They had no trouble, however, in
leaving the road, as all the fences were down, and many of the fields
were cut up with the hoofs of horses, and creased by the huge artillery
wheels.
To add to the confusion, shells began to fall all about them, and
occasionally a terrific explosion would follow, leaving them dazed and
startled. They ascended a hill, and, looking back, saw nothing but dense
clouds of smoke, and a scene of indescribable confusion.
"What's that down there?" shouted Alfred, pointing to a group of vans
close by the side of a stream.
"That must be a Red Cross station; so it is," said Ralph.
Their footsteps were hurried, but before the place was reached they saw
stretcher bearers, and also noticed the wounded being unloaded from a
field van. Glancing to the left they saw fully a dozen vans of like
character, as indicated by the great red crosses on their sides, rushing
up the narrow street from the southeast.
"Let's give them a hand," said Alfred.
A business-looking surgeon stood at the rear end of one of the vans, as
the boys approached. They saluted. "Can we do anything to help out?"
asked Ralph.
The doctor looked at them for a moment, apparently non-plussed at their
appearance.
"Yes, indeed; we need you and many more willing ones like you."
"What shall we do?" asked Alfred.
The surgeon drew a pad from his pocket, wrote a few words on it, handed
it to the boys, and said: "Present this to the officer yonder."
The officer indicated received the slip, while directing the disposition
of a wounded soldier, glanced at it hurriedly, then looked at the boys.
"Ah, want to get on duty? We can accommodate you; there, put those
stretchers in the van. One of you can take this to the supply van," he
said. Ralph seized the paper, and looked about.
"The van with the flag on it," explained the officer.
Ralph rushed across the intervening space, and presented the paper to a
Red Cross nurse, who smiled sweetly as she glanced at the paper, and
looked inquiringly at Ralph. She then turned, seized three packages, and
handed them to Ralph, while he thanked her and quickly rushed away. The
packages were stored in the van, water was supplied to the containers in
the vehicle, and the moment the last article was on board, the van
started.
The boys were both within, as well as three men and a surgeon. They had
heard no orders, but knew they were bound for the battlefield. There was
no talking indulged in. The men were too intently engaged in listening
to the din of the conflict, and watching the soldiers moving to and fro.
"Has there been much of a fight?" asked Ralph.
"They have been at it all morning," said one of the men. Then, glancing
at the boys, he continued: "But this is a bad place for you
youngsters."
"I am afraid you will regret it before you return. The scenes are
awful," continued the man.
"We know what it is," said Alfred. "We saw the worst kind of fighting in
Belgium."
[Illustration: _French and German Flags_]
"We were with the English in the battle east of Soissons, and had some
experience there," said Ralph.
"Aren't you English?" asked the surgeon.
"Oh, no; we're Americans," replied Alfred.
At this point a lieutenant rode up alongside, and shouted: "There has
been a tough scrap at the mill; we have driven the Germans back; take
this road down to the river; you will find plenty of poor fellows there
who will need you."
The French had made a terrific charge at this point, and many were lying
dead, where the van slowed down, so as to give the surgeon and helpers
an opportunity to pick out the wounded cases.
Wherever there was a movement in a prone figure the men stopped and made
an examination. In some cases the wounds were hurriedly dressed, and the
victim's position rendered comfortable. In other cases the surgeon
motioned to the helpers, who quickly brought the stretchers, and carried
the wounded into the van.
On this single trip they attended, or gave first aid to thirty, but only
the most severely injured were taken into the van, which now turned and
quickly speeded along the narrow road to the field hospital. Reaching
this station the men were carefully taken out, their wounds re-examined,
and carried into a temporary shelter for a second operation or
treatment.
A huge van then arrived from the southwest. Carefully and tenderly eight
men were placed on the cots within, the boys being delegated to assist.
When the order was given to leave, the boys remained in the van, as it
started out on its journey, but they didn't have the least idea where it
was bound, although you may be sure they were curious to know.
After every one had settled down,--that is, if such a thing as quiet and
comfort were possible in a van load of wounded men, Ralph turned to the
surgeon, and said. "Where are we going?"
"To Paris, if we can get through," was the reply.
The van had a wonderful set of springs, so that, although it was
necessary hour after hour to go through fields, instead of traveling
along the road, there was little discomfort to the wounded men.
"Why are the men being taken to Paris?" asked Alfred.
"So as to relieve the emergency station behind the battle front,"
explained the surgeon. "That is one thing; the other is, that the great
German forces are driving in our comparatively small army, until the
Paris forts are reached. There they will be stopped, and we must take
our wounded with us, and out of the reach of the enemy."
At Dammartin they saw the first Red Cross railway van,--an entire train
load, filled with wounded from the emergency stations, and here also
they were joined by fifteen vans taking the wounded on to the city. It
was thus a fortunate stroke for the boys that they undertook to help the
field hospital workers, for it directly assisted them in their effort to
reach the end of their journey.
Traveling was slow, and many detours were necessary, so it was not until
the fourth day of September that they caught sight of the walls of
Paris, and they soon had the pleasure of driving over the beautiful
smooth streets again. They went directly to the center of the city,
passed down the rue de l'Opera, through the Place de la Concorde, and
over the bridge to a hospital near the Place des Invalides.
Their charges in the van were soon provided for, and carried into
comfortable berths. As they were leaving the ward, they heard a weak
voice calling: "Ralph; Alfred."
They were startled, and turned around with wondering glances. A nurse
motioned to them, and pointed toward a figure with bandaged head and
arms. They approached.
"You don't know me, I suppose?" said the voice.
"No,--no," said Ralph.
"I believe it's Tom," said Alfred.
"Right," said the voice.
The boys knelt down at his side at once. "How did it happen?" asked
Alfred.
"Well, they got me first; but I brought down two of them before I was
hit," Tom told them.
"What became of the machine?" was Alfred's next question.
"I don't remember anything about it," was the reply, "but they told me
it made fine kindling wood."
"Too bad!" consoled Alfred. "I liked that little Morane; and to think
it's all broken up."
"How did you get here?" asked Tom.
"Why, we came down with the Red Cross people," explained Ralph.
"You seem to get into all sorts of trouble, all along the line," said
Tom with an attempt to laugh.
"But are you badly hurt?" inquired Alfred anxiously.
"The doctors say that there are only a few bones broken, several joints
wrenched out of shape, and some of the bark peeled off, but I ought to
be out in a few weeks," said Tom.
"Tell us what we ought to do now?" Alfred asked him.
"What do you mean?"
"Why, I want to know whether they will expect us to keep on in the Red
Cross service?"
"You volunteered, didn't you?" replied Tom. "You helped them out of your
free will, and you can leave whenever you want to, if that's what you
are getting at."
"I wouldn't mind volunteering in the aviation corps," said Ralph. "I
would just like----"
"So they got you this time, eh?" said a voice.
The boys turned, and saw a handsome man with the uniform of a lieutenant
in the aviation service, who approached, and leaned over Tom. Tom
replied with a smile, and raising his injured hand, pointed to the boys.
"Lieutenant," he said, "I want you to get acquainted with two of my
American friends, who have been in the thick of it right from the start.
Now you'll be conferring a special favor if you can take them in to help
you out. Oh, they're bricks," continued Tom, as he saw a shade of
discouragement in the lieutenant's features, "they are made of the right
stuff."
"We leave for Verdun in the morning," said the lieutenant, "but I will
see what can be done in the meantime."
As they left the hospital the first thought was to go to the Continental
Hotel to try to get a trace of Alfred's father. Arriving there a letter
was handed them, together with two telegrams from Berne, Switzerland,
one of the messages having been received that very day. The missives
informed him that his father had not been able to leave German territory
until the twenty-eighth of August, and as he had received word that the
Germans were approaching Paris he thought it unwise to make the trip to
that point, but would await word from them before deciding what to do.
"How far is it from Berne to Verdun?" Alfred asked the clerk.
"About three hundred kilometers," was the reply.
"Let's see; that's about two hundred miles," said Alfred. "And it's a
hundred and fifty miles to Verdun.
"Then we'll go to Verdun," said Ralph. "But how?"
The subject was debated for an hour, when it was decided to return to
the hospital. They had forgotten to learn the lieutenant's name,
although probably Tom knew how to reach him, they reasoned.
Arriving at the hospital they learned that Tom was asleep, and that no
one would be permitted to see him, so they wandered around without the
slightest idea what course to pursue. They even discussed the
feasibility of walking to Verdun, but that idea was soon abandoned.
"I wonder where the aviation grounds are?" remarked Ralph.
They soon learned that several corps were located at the great race
course in the Bois de Boulogne, and they were soon on the underground
railway speeding to the nearest station in that vicinity. Arriving at
the grounds they approached the entrance, and their hearts sank as they
saw a great crowd gathered, and one after the other turned away.
"Chances of getting in seem to be pretty slim," said Alfred.
"Well, we might try it, anyhow," said Ralph, as he pushed forward.
They marched up to the gate, and passed through without the least
objection on the part of the guards. This was the greatest surprise to
both. They had forgotten that the uniforms they wore gave them
admittance without question. Evidently they were taken for army
messengers.
"See that American flag?" shouted Ralph.
"That's the place for us," replied Alfred.
Accordingly, they lost no time in making for the hangar on which the
emblem appeared. They saw a Farman machine partly outside of the hangar,
and in the body of it was seated a ruddy-faced chap.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Came over to help you out," said Alfred.
He looked down, and slowly said: "You did, eh?"
"Well, we've seen a little active service at the front, so far,"
explained Ralph, "been in battle several times, have been captured by
the Germans, helped to build trenches, worked with the Red Cross people,
and had a few flights in an airplane, and as we like aviation business
best of all, we thought we'd come over and go to work."
The airman raised himself, sat down on the side of the car body, and
commenced to laugh, although Ralph's remark was said without the least
tinge of pride or boasting. Several from the adjoining hangars came in
to learn the cause of the boisterous mirth.
"Well, that's fresh enough to come from real American boys," he said,
after he had sobered down a little.
"That's right; we're from the United States; we came here because we saw
the flag on the outside; what shall we do the first thing?" said Alfred.
"From America?" said the man, climbing down from the machine. "And you
are regular Yankees? Well, well; that's too good! I'm something of an
American myself. By jingo, you're the kind of fellows to have around.
Want a job? Where did you get your uniforms? They look all right."
"Oh, these are Belgian uniforms. We were with them, you know, and had a
pretty hot time, too," said Ralph.
This information, as they now knew, was the best credential possible,
and they were soon the center of an admiring crowd. Somehow the
determined matter of fact and positive way which the boys adopted had
the effect of winning their way, and it was thus that they had the
satisfaction of entering a service which it is a most difficult thing
to do even with the best credentials.
The happiness of the boys was complete when their new friend told them
to get up on the machine, and help him to take out the engine. Coats
came off in a hurry, and they looked around for some substitute to
protect their clothing.
Their friend supplied the necessary articles at once remarking as he did
so that he ought to know their names.
After this information was supplied, he remarked: "My name is Martin;
Bill Martin, Fifth Aviation Corps; don't forget the Corps or you may
have trouble in getting into the grounds; and, by the way, how did you
happen to get through?"
"If you mean the gates, why, we just walked right through," said Alfred.
"Just as though you had a right to do so!" said Martin, as he again
commenced to laugh. "You said you were up in an airplane; where was
that?"
"Up at Dunkirk, and back of the firing line, south of the St. Quentin,"
said Ralph.
"Do you know Tom Watkins?" asked Alfred.
"Do I know Tom? Why, we came over together; poor fellow, he got a bad
fall," said Martin.
"We heard about it and saw him at the hospital today," said Alfred.
"You don't say? So you've been flying with Tom? I'm glad to know that,"
said Martin, as he nodded his head approvingly.