A MIDNIGHT SWIM
"A pretty tight place we're in," remarked Bart to Frank as the Army
Boys stood side by side behind a barricade of logs where they had just
repelled a German attack that had surged up close before it fell back
in confusion.
"Tight is right," grunted Bart, as he reloaded his rifle which was
getting hot from firing.
"We ought to be used to tight places by this time," put in Billy,
stopping long enough to wipe the perspiration from his face. "It seems
that when our division has a specially tough job to do they always call
upon the old Thirty-seventh to do it."
There was no exaggeration in describing the position the soldiers were
holding as a tight place. While the great drive had not yet begun, the
enemy was carrying on a nibbling process in the attempt to improve his
position before the start of the big offensive.
There was a piece of woodland surmounting a broad plateau that had
considerable strategic importance. Its possession would enable the
Germans to straighten their lines and permit their guns to dominate the
valley beyond. They had made several attacks previously which had been
driven back; but on the morning in question the assaults had been
particularly ferocious and determined. It was evident that the Germans
had received orders to carry it at all costs, and they had thrown their
forces ahead again and again regardless of their heavy losses in men.
Their attacks on the direct front had remained without result, but they
had been able to gain some advantages on the side that separated the
detachment in the woods from their main divisions. It was necessary
that American reinforcements should be sent at once, for the
comparatively small force that held the position was rapidly thinning
out, owing to the terrific shell fire of the enemy's guns.
Several couriers had been sent to notify the main command of the
perilous position in which the defenders were placed, but these had
evidently been killed or captured, and at last Major Blake, the officer
in command, had to use his last resort.
There was a cage of carrier pigeons that the detachment had brought
with them, beautiful, soft-eyed creatures that had been thoroughly
trained. It seemed a pity that things so gentle should have to serve
the harsh purposes of war. But human lives were at stake, and one of
the birds was quickly selected, and a message tied on it securely.
Then it was thrown up in the air. It circled about for a moment to get
its direction, and then straight as an arrow to its mark made for
division headquarters.
A cheer rose from the men as they watched the feathered messenger, but
this quickly changed to a groan when the bird was seen to falter and
then plunge downward. An enemy shot had winged or killed it.
Two more were sent and met with the same fate. The need was growing
fearfully urgent, for the enemy had been reinforced and the attacks
were growing in intensity. Unless help came very soon the position
would be overwhelmed.
Frank and his comrades were fighting like tigers, their faces covered
with grime and sweat. The last time the enemy came on they had reached
the breastworks and had been beaten back with savage bayonet fighting
and clubbed rifles. But they still kept coming as though their numbers
were endless.
"The boys had better hurry up if they want to find any of us alive,"
muttered Billy.
"They'll probably find us dead," grunted Bart, "but they'll find, too,
that we've taken a lot of the Huns with us."
"There goes the fourth bird," said Frank. "Perhaps he'll have better
luck."
Through the tempest of shot and shell the bird winged its way unhurt,
and with new hope the desperate defenders buckled down to their work.
They knew their comrades would not leave them in the lurch.
Two more attacks came on, but the gray-clad waves broke down before the
gallant defense. And then, above the roar of battle, came a rousing
American cheer, and into the woods came plunging rank after rank of
fresh troops to relieve their hard-pressed comrades.
They rapidly fell into position, and the next time the Germans came for
what they believed would be their crowning success they had the
surprise of their lives. A withering rifle fire ploughed their ranks,
and then the American boys leaped over the barricade and chased the
enemy back to his own lines. The position was saved, and the hardy
fighters who had held it so gallantly looked at each other and wondered
that they were alive.
"The narrowest shave we ever had!" gasped Billy as, utterly exhausted,
he threw himself at full length on the ground.
"It was nip and tuck," panted Bart. "I know now how the besieged
British at Lucknow felt when they heard the bagpipes playing: 'The
Campbells are coming.'"
"We pulled through all right," said Frank, "and don't forget, boys,
that we owe it to the birds."
Two days later the position of the divisions was shifted and the Army
Boys found themselves on the banks of a small river that forms the
dividing line between the hostile armies.
The squad to which Frank and his comrades were assigned under the
command of Corporal Wilson, who had now fully recovered from his
wounds, was stationed at a point where the river was about a hundred
and fifty yards wide. Desultory firing was carried on, but the sector
at the time was comparatively quiet, as both armies were engrossed in
their preparations for the great battle that was impending. It was the
lull before the storm, and the boys improved it to the utmost. Their
duties were light compared to what they had been, and they rapidly
recuperated from the great strain under which they had been for some
weeks past.
"If only Tom were here now," remarked Frank for perhaps the hundredth
time, for their missing comrade was always in the thoughts of the other
Army Boys.
"Poor old scout!" mourned Bart. "I wonder where he is now?"
"Working his heart out in some German camp, I suppose," said Billy
savagely.
"You see, Frank, your hunch hasn't worked out as you thought it would,"
said Bart. "You felt sure that Tom would be with us again before this."
"I know," admitted Frank. "My time-table has gone wrong, but I haven't
given up hope. Tom is only human and he can't work miracles. He may
have been so placed that it simply wasn't possible to make a break.
But one thing you can gamble on, and that is that he hasn't given up
trying. And when a man has that spirit his chance is sure to come."
"I wish I had your optimism," said Bart gloomily.
"Look at those skunks on the other side of the river," interrupted
Billy.
He pointed to a group of German soldiers who were making insulting
gestures and holding up huge placards with coarse inscriptions on them.
"Cheap skates," replied Frank. "You notice they're not quite so gay
when we get to close quarters with them."
"They get my goat," said Billy with irritation. "I'd like to cram
those placards down their throats."
"Pretty big mouthful," laughed Frank.
"We'll get them yet," said Billy vengefully.
"What's the use of saying 'yet,'" suggested Frank. "Why not say 'now'?"
They looked at him curiously.
"What do you mean?" queried Bart.
"Got anything up your sleeve?" asked Billy.
"An idea just came to me," replied Frank. "I don't know whether it's
any good, but perhaps it's worth chewing over."
"Let's have it," demanded Billy eagerly.
"Well," said Frank slowly, "I figure that there must be about twenty
Germans in that detachment just opposite us. What would be the matter
with a few of us going over there some dark night and cleaning up the
bunch?"
A delighted shout met the suggestion.
"Bully!" exclaimed Bart.
But though the approval was enthusiastic, practical difficulties soon
presented themselves.
"How are we to get across?" asked Bart dubiously.
"We haven't any boat on this side that's big enough," said Billy. "In
fact, I don't think we have any at all."
"That's an easy one," answered Frank. "Do you see that big lobster of
a boat on the other side? That looks as though it would carry almost a
dozen anyway. We won't need any more than that to nab the Huns,
because we'll have the advantage of the surprise if our plans go
through all right."
"But how are we going to get the boat?" asked Bart.
"Swim over for it," replied Frank. "I'll attend to that. Give me a
dark night and it's all I ask."
"Let's see what the corporal has to say about it," suggested Bart.
The corporal listened with interest. It was a plan after his own heart.
"You young roosters are always looking for fight," he grinned. "I'll
put it up to the captain and see what he says."
The assent of the captain was readily obtained as he knew the value of
such exploits in keeping the spirits of the men up to high fighting
pitch.
The night following there would be no moon until late, and it was fixed
on for carrying out the raid. Frank was to swim across the river and
get the boat. On the American side Wilson with eight men would be in
waiting. They would embark and try to reach the other side without
detection. Quick thinking and Yankee grit could be depended on to do
the rest.
The night came, black as pitch. Frank slid into the water as
noiselessly as a fish and struck out for the other side.