CLOSING THE GAP
A sheet of flames leaped from the American rifles. A blasting torrent
of death poured from the machine guns. The heavy field artillery, that
had the range to a dot, tore gaping holes in the serried German ranks.
Great lanes opened up in the advancing hosts. The target was broad and
there was no need to take aim, for every bullet was bound to find a
mark.
The enemy ranks faltered before that terrific fire and fell back,
leaving hundreds of dead and wounded on the open space in front of the
lines, while hundreds more were strewn along the barbed wire
entanglements.
But the German commanders were prodigal of the lives of their men, and
after a brief time for re-forming, the divisions came on again, only to
be hurled back again with still more fearful losses. A third attempt
met with a similar result. The Americans were standing like a rock.
"Guess Fritz is getting more than he bargained for," grinned Billy, as
the Germans were forming for another attack.
"Yes," agreed Frank, "but he'll try again. He'll stand a whole lot of
beating."
For several hours the fight continued with a bitterness that had not
been paralleled before in the whole course of the war. Again and again
the enemy attacked, only to be beaten back before the stonewall defense.
But the Americans were not satisfied with merely defending their
position. About two hours after noon they organized a counterattack.
With splendid vim and ardor, and in a dashing charge, they smashed the
division confronting them, driving them back in confusion and bringing
hundreds of prisoners back with them to the trenches.
"I guess that will hold them for a while," crowed Billy, as they rested
for a few minutes after their return.
"We certainly slashed them good and plenty," exulted Frank, as he
washed up a scratched shoulder that had been struck by a splinter of
shrapnel.
"If the rest of the line is holding as well as our fellows, the drive
will be ended almost as soon as it began," remarked Bart.
"And Heinie was going to walk all over us, was he?" grinned Billy.
"He's got another guess coming."
But their amazement was great a few minutes later when the order came
for the regiment to fall back.
"Fall back!" howled Billy when he heard the order. "What is this, a
joke?"
"Why should we fall back, when we've just licked the tar out of the
Heinies?" growled Bart.
"Orders are orders," said Frank briefly. "I suppose our commanders
know what they're doing. But it certainly is tough luck."
Their officers no doubt felt an equal chagrin, but the need was
imperative. The Germans had struck along a front of fifty miles. At
many points they had encountered a resistance as fierce and determined
as that put up by the old Thirty-seventh and its companion regiments of
the same division.
But at others they had been more successful. They had introduced a new
kind of tactics that had never been used before on the western front,
although it had been employed successfully in Russia. These were the
so-called Von Hutier tactics whereby, when a division was used up,
instead of falling back it simply opened up and let a fresh division
pass through and take up the burden.
The old plan had been to clear up everything as one went along. The
idea of the new tactics was to press swiftly ahead even if they left
behind them machine-gun nests and strong enemy positions. These could
be cleaned up later one by one, while in front the swift advance was
intended to demoralize the opposing army and throw it out of formation
by the very speed of the progress.
The plan, like every other, had its weak points. It involved a very
heavy loss of men because of the masses in which they moved forward,
and it also exposed its flank by penetrating too rapidly into the host
lines before the artillery could be brought up for support. But if
successful, it was almost sure to break the enemy's line and throw it
into confusion.
Later on the Allies were to learn how they might most easily frustrate
these tactics. But at the start of the great drive the plan met with
considerable success because of its novelty.
It was this that had brought the command to retreat. The British
forces on the right wing of the Allied armies had been forced to give
way. The line had not been broken, but it had been badly bent. The
British retreated doggedly, fighting with the splendid heroism that was
in accordance with their traditions, and at no time did the retreat
become a rout. But in order to keep the line straight the American
forces too were ordered to fall back, even though they had been
successful on their section of the line.
"It's a shame!" growled Billy, as the retirement began. "It makes me
sore to have those Heinies think they've got us going."
"We'll come back," said Frank cheerfully. "It's a good general that
knows when to retreat as well as to advance. We're only going to get
space enough to crouch for a spring."
The division withdrew in good order, keeping up a rear-guard action
that kept the enemy at a respectful distance. When night fell the
Americans had reached the position assigned to them, and the backward
movement was halted. The troops entrenched, and with the Allied line
straightened out once more, faced the foe that it had decisively
defeated earlier in the day.
"Nothing to do till tomorrow," exclaimed Frank as he threw himself on
the ground.
"Don't fool yourself that way," said Corporal Wilson, who had just come
up and heard the remark. "Unless I lose my guess you've got something
to do tonight. Didn't you tell me the other day that you understood
how to handle a motorcycle?"
"Why, yes," said Frank. "I've ridden one a good deal. I won a race on
Camport Fair Grounds a couple of years ago."
"Then you're just the man the general wants to see," replied Wilson.
"He sent a message to the colonel asking for the services of a man who
was cool and plucky, and who could also ride a motorcycle. I don't
know of any one else who can fill the bill better than you."
"I'll be glad to do whatever's wanted of me," replied Frank, and with a
word of farewell to his comrades he accompanied the corporal to
headquarters.
Here he was ushered into the presence of a group of officers who were
poring over a large map spread out upon a table.
"Is this the young man you were telling me about, Colonel?" asked the
general, a tall, powerfully built man, looking sharply at Frank from
beneath a pair of bushy eyebrows.
"Yes, General," replied the colonel. "Captain Baker vouches for his
coolness and courage and his quick thinking in an emergency. And I'm
told he understands all about motorcycles."
"Just the man," commented the general. "I want you," he continued,
addressing Frank, "to carry a message for me to the British commander
on our right. Our division has lost touch with him and the field
telephone is not working. Probably it has been cut by the enemy. The
message is most important and I want you to make all the speed you can.
Go and get ready now and report to your captain, who will hand you the
papers. He will have a machine ready for you. That is all."
Frank hurried back and made his preparations, which were brief. While
he worked he told his eager companions of the errand with which he had
been entrusted.
"Wish I were going with you," remarked Bart.
"Same here," said Billy.
"That would be dandy," agreed Frank.
He shook hands with them and hurried away to the captain's quarters,
where he found that officer waiting for him with the papers.
"There's no answer," he said, as he handed them over. "When you've
delivered the papers your work is done. Good luck."
Frank thrust the papers in his pocket after receiving full directions
as to his route. The motorcycle was standing at the door. It was a
powerful machine of the latest make and everything about it suggested
strength and speed. He noticed that there was a saddle in the rear and
a thought came to him.
"I see that this machine will carry double," he said. "Would you mind
if I took a companion with me? The machine will carry two as swiftly
as it will one. Then, too, if one of us were hurt or shot the other
one could still go on with the message."
"An excellent idea," said the captain after pondering a moment. "Get
him, but make haste."
Frank rushed back to his chums.
"Which one of you wants to go with me?" he asked breathlessly.
"I do," they yelled in chorus.
"Sorry," laughed Frank, "but there's only room for one. Toss a coin."
The luck favored Bart, much to Billy's disappointment. In a jiffy
Frank and Bart had bidden Billy good-by, jumped to their places, and
with a leap the powerful machine darted off.
The night was clear, and as soon as they were away from the camp Frank
had no trouble in finding the road that he had been ordered to take.
It was a good one in ordinary times, but now it had been torn by shells
from the German guns in many places and care had to be taken to avoid a
spill. The shaded light threw its rays a considerable distance ahead,
but they were going at a speed that did not leave them much time to
avoid obstacles even after they were detected.
The road swung around in a wide semi-circle and led through a number of
French villages. These the Army Boys found in great confusion. The
approach of the Huns was a terrible threat to the towns that might fall
into German hands. What the enemy had done in the occupied parts of
France and Belgium had given warning of what any other places they
might capture would have to expect.
Wagons were being hastily piled with household belongings, men were
shouting, children were crying, and the whole scene was desolate and
pitiful beyond description.
The roads were so congested at these places that rapid progress was
impossible. They had to thread their way among the crowd of vehicles,
and in some cases were compelled to resort to the fields. But they
made up for this on other stretches, and were congratulating themselves
that on the whole they were making pretty good time when suddenly they
were startled by a number of rifle shots and bullets whizzed by
uncomfortably close.
"It's the Huns!" cried Frank.
"I didn't know they'd got as close as this!" exclaimed Bart. "More
gas, Frank! Quick!"
There were hoarse commands to halt, and another volley followed the
first. At the same time a number of dark figures threw themselves in
the road, shouting and waving their hands.
Frank leaned forward, threw on all speed, and the machine responded
with a leap that almost unseated the riders. The crowd in front
scattered as the machine rushed at them, but one of them was not quick
enough and was hurled twenty feet away.
More shots followed the daring riders, but they were now beyond range.
For another mile they kept up the killing pace and then Frank slowed up
a little.
"Ran right into their arms that time," he ejaculated.
"We were mighty lucky to come through with a whole skin," replied Bart.
"More than the machine has done, I'm afraid," remarked Frank. "I can
tell by the way she runs that there's something wrong with the tires."
He looked behind, and seeing no signs of pursuit, he stopped the
motorcycle and dismounted.
Something had indeed happened to the tires. Both the front and rear
ones had been punctured by bullets. The air had gone out of them.
"Hard luck," exclaimed Bart.
"Never mind," returned Frank. "We'll ride her flat as long as we can
and if worse comes to worse we'll ride her on the rims. We've got to
get that message to the general no matter what happens."
"We'll get it there if we have to travel on our hands and knees,"
affirmed Bart.
"It won't come to that, I hope," laughed his companion, as he bound the
flat tires fast with straps. Then he settled himself again in his seat
and started the machine.
It went along more slowly now, and their troubles were increased by the
fact that their route had carried them into a main road that was filled
with motor lorries--huge trucks loaded with men and supplies that
rushed on with the speed almost of an express train.
The lorries had the right of way, and individual riders had to look out
for themselves. Sometimes they came down two abreast, filling the
whole width of the road, and in such cases the boys had to dismount and
draw to the side of the road until they had passed. If their machine
had been in condition, they might have kept ahead by sheer speed, but
in its present crippled state they would have been run down. And to be
run down by one of those Juggernauts would have meant instant death.
On one such occasion they were hugging the fence, with their machine
standing between them and the road. A lorry came thundering by, but
just as it was nearly opposite, it swerved and struck the machine. It
was torn from Frank's hand and hurled in front of the lorry which ran
over and completely wrecked it.
The lorry tore on, leaving the two chums looking at each other in
consternation.
"That's worse by long odds than the German bullets," exclaimed Frank.
"I guess we'll have to do the hands and knees stunt you were talking
about a little while ago."
"We must be pretty near to the English general's headquarters now
anyway, aren't we?" asked Bart.
Frank consulted his route by the aid of a flashlight that he carried
with him.
"About two miles," he announced. "Put on some speed now, Bart. We'll
run most of the way and jog-trot the rest."
They let no grass grow under their feet, and fifteen minutes later they
had reached the general's headquarters and were ushered into his
presence. He seemed to be greatly agitated and was talking with great
emphasis to a group of officers who surrounded him.
He took the papers that the boys had brought and read them over
hurriedly.
"Very good," he announced briefly. "There is no answer. Were your
orders to go back to your regiment to-night?"
"No, sir," replied Frank.
"In that case my orderly will find quarters for you," replied the
general, and he gave directions to an officer who took them in charge
and saw them safely bestowed for the night.
"That was some wild ride?" grinned Frank, as they were getting ready
for sleep.
"It sure was," laughed Bart, "especially that part where the German
bullets were zipping all around us. Wait till we tell Billy about it.
He'll be green with envy."
"Well, we carried out our orders anyway," said Frank. "I'm glad that
we'll be able to tell the captain so tomorrow morning."
But they did not report to their captain the next morning, nor for
several following mornings, for when they woke they found that a
condition had developed that was full of peril to the Allied cause.
The German plan had been to strike at the junction point of the Allied
armies. If they could separate them there would be a chance to turn
upon one of them and crush it with overwhelming forces and then at
their leisure destroy the other.
In this they had come very near succeeding. A threatening gap had
developed between two of the most important armies that were holding
that portion of the front. The armies had lost touch with each other
and the gap had gradually widened until at one place the armies were
eight miles apart.
The only helpful thing about the situation was that the Germans
themselves did not know of the gap until it was too late to take
advantage of it. The very speed with which they had pushed forward had
thrown their forces into confusion. Brigades and regiments had become
badly mixed and it took some time to straighten matters out.
But if the Germans did not know how matters stood, the Allied
commanders knew it only too well. It was this that explained the
agitation that the boys had noticed in the general the night before.
He had been called upon to close the gap. Upon his shoulders rested
for the time the salvation of the Allied cause.
If he had had sufficient forces at his command, the problem would have
been comparatively simple, provided he had been given time to solve it.
But he had neither time nor men. He had only fifty cavalrymen. He
lacked guns and ammunition. The hard-pressed armies at the right and
left were battling desperately against the on-rushing German hordes and
could spare him little.
"Looks as if he had to make bricks without straw," said Frank to Bart
the next morning, when the state of things had been explained by the
orderly who had taken them in charge.
"It's a case of must," said Bart, "and from the squint I had at the
general last night he's the one who can do the job if it can be done at
all."
"Will you stay and help?" asked the orderly. "Every man will help.
The general's picked up three hundred American engineers working on a
road nearby. Every one of them has thrown down his pick and shouldered
a rifle."
"Bully for the engineers!" cried Frank.
"Will you stay?" asked the orderly. "Of course you can return to your
own command if you want to."
"Will we stay?" exclaimed Frank. "Give me a gun. I know my captain
would be willing."
"You can't drive us away," Bart almost shouted.
It was a scratch army that the general finally got together. Some of
his men had never handled a gun before. Some were drivers, some were
telegraph linemen, some were cooks. But he made the most of what he
had. He himself was here, there and everywhere, having trees felled to
obstruct the roads, planting machine guns in strategic places, digging
shallow trenches, resting neither by day or night.
Frank and Bart worked like beavers. They were placed in charge of
machine-gun crews, and their deadly weapons kept spitting fire until
they were almost too hot to handle. Again and again they beat back
German detachments. They fought like fiends. They never expected to
come out of that fight alive. The odds seemed too tremendous.
"It's like Custer's last charge," panted Frank. "There wasn't one of
his troopers left alive. But I'll bet that not one of them was sorry
he was there."
"I'm glad that motorcycle carried double," replied Bart. "I'd have
been cheated out of a lot of lovely fighting if it hadn't."
They fought desperately, savagely, their bodies tired to the breaking
point, but their courage never failing. And at last they won out. The
armies rejoined each other. The gap was closed. And Frank and Bart
rejoiced beyond measure that they had been able to do their part in the
closing.
"Some fellows have all the luck," remarked Billy, when they had
rejoined their regiment two days later, and were telling him all about
it. "Now if that coin we flipped had only come down heads instead of
tails----"
"Stop your grouching," laughed Frank. "You'll have all the fighting
that's good for you by the time we've driven the boches over the Rhine."