THE TRAINING CAMP
My readers may well guess that Ned, Bob and Jerry were glad to see the
scientist. He was like part of their "own folks," and though they had
many friends among their army chums, and though they liked, and were
liked, by their officers, our three heroes felt that with Professor
Snodgrass along it was like taking part of Cresville aboard with
them.
"So you got here all right, did you?" asked Ned with a smile, as he
and the others shook hands with the scientist.
"Yes, I'm here; and I wish we were across. I dread the voyage."
"Submarines?" asked Jerry.
"Oh, no, I wasn't thinking of them," answered the professor. "But I am
anxious to get across, not only to begin my study of the effect of war
noises on European insects, but to search for those two young ladies.
I have been reading considerable about war conditions in France and
Germany since Professor Petersen made me his part heir, and I fear
the young ladies may have a hard time."
"Yes, they are very likely to," assented Ned. "But until we get there
we can't do anything to help them. However, we'll do our best for you
and them when we do get there--if we have a chance--after getting a
Hun or two," he added.
"That's right," said Mr. Snodgrass. "The winning of the war is the
first consideration. I wish I were young enough to fight. But I have
contributed to the Red Cross, to the Salvation Army, the Knights of
Columbus and the Y. M. C. A. and the Y. W. C. A.; and I've mailed
every magazine I finished reading and sent over all the books I could
spare."
The boys winked at one another. They gave full credit to Professor
Snodgrass for his contributions to the five organizations, which, with
the Jewish Welfare League, did so much to help win the war.
"But if the boys in camp over there had to depend for reading on the
dry, scientific magazines and books the professor sent them they'd be
hard put," commented Jerry to his chums, afterward.
"Well, we're moving, anyhow," observed Bob, as he and the others
noticed that tugs were backing the transport out into the river. "Now
that we're under way, don't you think we'd better go and see
about----"
"Grub!" finished Jerry, fairly taking the word out of Chunky's mouth.
The stout lad glared a moment, and then said:
"Well, yes, grub! Why not? We have to eat, don't we?"
"You said it, Bob!" exclaimed Ned. "Go to it!"
But the boys found they need not have worried about the matter of
eating or sleeping. Competent hands had the comfort of the soldiers in
charge and there was nothing lacking that could be obtained. They were
taken in charge by officers, divided into squads, assigned to certain
lifeboats, and told where to report when an alarm for a submarine
attack, real or simulated, was sounded.
Professor Snodgrass told how he had secured permission to come aboard
the transport with his friends, the young soldiers--no easy
matter--and how he had been designated as a "correspondent," though
Jerry Hopkins, on hearing this, remarked:
"I suppose if he did send any news it would be to the _Bug Hunter's
Review_, describing the life of an insect on an army transport."
"Very likely," agreed Ned.
And so, amid the blaring whistle salutes of river craft, the former
German liner dropped down the bay and started for France with the
young soldiers who were to do their part in ending barbarous
militarism forever.
It was not exactly a gay trip. There were many who were seasick in
spite of the calm weather, and there was little to do on board. Only a
few books were available to read, and these were in constant use.
Aside from lifeboat drill there was little to occupy the boys.
But there was always the fear of a submarine attack when they should
reach the infested zone, and the boys looked forward to this as
something that would relieve the monotony.
There was a gun crew on the transport--several of them, in fact--and
the troop ships were escorted by war vessels and the swift, snake-like
destroyers, which moved with such remarkable speed.
One day, after the usual lifeboat drill, which was held at different
hours each day so that none would suspect when it was coming, the
three chums were standing near the forward gun, rather idly scanning
the water. The night had been a dreary one, cooped up as they were in
the darkness, for now that they were approaching the danger zone, all
but the most necessary lights were dimmed.
Up above, and on various parts of the deck, were the lookouts,
scanning with strained and eager eyes the expanse of water ahead of
them for a sight of the white wake that would indicate a periscope,
or, perchance, hoping to see the wet, glistening sides of a "steel
fish" itself, as it broke water before sending the deadly torpedo.
"Well, boys, how goes it?" asked a voice behind the three chums, and
they recognized Professor Snodgrass.
As Jerry turned to speak to him, having finished a remark in which he
had speculated as to what had become of Noddy Nixon, who was not on
board, one of the men cried:
"What's that?"
He pointed to a spot about two points off the port bow, and Ned, Bob
and Jerry, as well as several others, distinctly saw a little
commotion in the water.
"A sub, as sure as you're a foot high!" cried a marine, just as a
bugle call to quarters was blown, for a lookout, too, had observed the
disturbance in the water.
Instantly the gun crew was in action, and several shots were fired
from the bow gun. The reports had hardly ceased echoing when some
remarkable activity was displayed, not only aboard the transport, but
on the part of the convoying squadron.
As the shells splashed into the sea near the spot where the commotion
had been observed, there were smudges of black smoke at several points
on either side of the troopship. These were the funnels of the
destroyers belching out clouds of vapor that told of their approach
under forced draught. And as the other guns on the transport awoke and
began firing on the suspected submarine, up came racing the swift
craft, the men on board eagerly looking for a target.
Then their big guns got into action, and for a time the sea in the
vicinity of the suspected place was churned by exploding shells, while
one destroyer, the fastest of the flotilla, shot right over the place
where the lookout thought he had seen a periscope, and dropped two
depth bombs that added further to the churning of Neptune's element.
Meanwhile, for the second occasion in a short time, lifeboat stations
were sounded, and the soldiers, donning their life preservers, took
their places to await what might follow--possibly, an order to abandon
ship after she had been struck by a torpedo.
But this contingency did not arise. The destroyers swarmed around the
transport, seeking in vain for something substantial on which to
expend their ammunition, and then the scare was over.
And whether it was only a scare, or whether a real submarine had shown
her periscope and then dived before sending a torpedo, could, of
course, only be surmised. But no chances were being taken, and the
transport on which the Cresville boys traveled was not the only one of
the American Expeditionary Forces that believed itself the object of a
frustrated attack.
"If that was a sub, it came out pretty far to meet us," observed
Jerry, when the excitement had died away and they were at ease once
more.
"No telling where they'll be found," said a noncommissioned officer.
"If that had been one I believe we'd have got her, though."
"Surest thing you know!" declared Ned Slade emphatically.
This was the only incident that marked the passage. Of course, at
various times, especially during the nights, the lookouts may have
imagined they saw the wake of a periscope or a torpedo, but there was
no general alarm.
And finally, after what really was a tiresome voyage, and one the end
of which was welcomed by all, the transport docked at a certain port
in France, and Ned, Bob and Jerry were able, with their water-weary
comrades, to go ashore.
"Here at last!" murmured Jerry, as he and his chums sought their own
company.
"And where are the Huns we're going to fight?" asked Bob, looking
around at the strange scenes.
"Oh, we won't see them right away," returned Ned. "It'll be more
training camp for ours for a while. But we'll see real fighting soon
enough. Don't worry."
"It can't come any too soon for me, Buddy!" exclaimed a tall, Southern
lad, with whom the Motor Boys had become chummy at Camp Dixton. "Lead
me to it!"
But there was much to be done before this would occur. After the boys
had disembarked they were inspected, roll was called, and then they
were told to march to a designated depot, there to eat and be fitted
out for a march to the French village where they were to be billeted
until sent to a training camp.
Professor Snodgrass could not, of course, stay with the army boys, but
he announced that he would follow them as closely as possible, and
keep in communication with them. As soon as might be he would arrange
to begin the search for the two missing girls.
Not all that Ned, Bob and Jerry had read of the gigantic work
undertaken to fit out and maintain the American armies in France
prepared them for what they saw. The port where the transport docked
had been transformed. Great storehouses and warehouses were erected.
Whole railway systems had been built, with the American locomotives
replacing the diminutive French ones. And the French population and
army representatives were as much surprised at the initiative and
wonderful progress of the American forces as were the new recruits
themselves.
"Say, we're going into this war with both feet!" exclaimed Jerry
admiringly.
"That's the only way to do it," said Ned. "The harder we go at it the
sooner it will be over."
They had their "chow," and even Bob admitted that it was "mighty
good," and, as you know, he was a connoisseur.
Then, with their comrades, the three Motor Boys marched to the place
where they were to spend the night before going to the training camp.
This was a small French village, and its quaint beauty, unspoiled by
the Germans, was very attractive to the sea-weary soldiers.
Ned, Bob and Jerry were billeted with five others at a French
farmhouse, where they were given beds in the attic. The "beds" were
only piles of clean straw, but the lads were delighted with them after
their close bunks on the ship.
"I can roll over now without falling out," said Ned, with a sigh of
comfort as he stretched out.
They drew their rations the following morning, and breakfasted most
heartily, if not luxuriously, and were ready for what the day held for
them. This was nothing else than a journey to their training camp,
which, they learned, was some miles behind the front lines where the
fighting was going on.
"But you'll be moved up as fast as it's possible to do so," said the
officer who directed them. "The fighting's getting heavier and
heavier."
And this was true, for about this time the 42d American Division was
in position east of Rheims where, a little later, a great German
attack was launched, and, as all the world now knows, was flung back
with disaster to the Hun forces.
The railroad journey, from a point near their disembarkation port to
their training camp, was not a very comfortable one, as the troops had
to travel in cars that were used at times for horses. But every one
was in good spirits, and little inconveniences were laughed at.
And finally, after three days, the welcome word was given to leave the
trains and march to the camp. This was situated in a beautiful part of
France--that is, it had been beautiful before the spoliation by the
Huns, and there Ned, Bob and Jerry, with thousands of their comrades,
prepared for the last phase of their training. Before them was the
enemy.
"Well, here at last!" remarked Jerry, as he eased himself from his
pack, and, with his two chums, stacked the guns together. "I wonder
what happens first?"
"Suppose you come over and have some chocolate?" suggested a voice
behind the boys, and, turning, they saw a pleasant-faced young man,
whose hair, however, was gray. He wore a semi-military uniform, but a
glance at his sleeve showed the red triangle, and the letters "Y. M.
C. A." were not needed to tell his character.
"Come over and make yourselves at home," he went on. "You'll have time
before you'll be called on to report."
"Thank you, we will," said Jerry. "Some chocolate would touch the
spot."
"I've got two spots that need touching," laughed Bob.
"Won't you boys come, too?" invited the Y. M. C. A. worker, as he
turned to some others who had marched up as Ned, Bob and Jerry were
moving away.
"What? Trail in with a lot of psalm-singing goody-goodies?" was the
sneering retort of one, and it needed only a glance to show that the
speaker was Noddy Nixon.
"He's here--worse luck!" murmured Ned.
"No Y. M. C. A. for mine!" sneered Noddy.
"Boor!" muttered Bob, in protest.
"There is a Knights of Columbus station next to ours, and a Salvation
Army hut, as well as a Jewish Community station, here in camp," was
the gentle answer of the secretary. "If you prefer one of those you
will be very welcome, I know. We are all working together for you
boys."
"None for mine!" sneered Noddy. "I want some cigarettes!"
"I can let you have some at my _foyer_," said the secretary, with a
smile. "I don't smoke myself, but I like the smell of it mighty well.
Come along."
But Noddy laughed sneeringly, and would not go. However, Ned, Bob and
Jerry accompanied the Y. M. C. A. man, and very glad they were to buy,
at a modest price, some cups of chocolate, and also some cakes of it
to put in their pockets.
"These Y. M. C. A. and K. C. places are all to the merry!" voted Ned.
"They were great back at Camp Dixton, but they're twice as good
here!"
"And we'll look after you, as well as we can, when you get on the
firing line," said their new friend. "You'll have to depend on the
Salvation Army lassies for doughnuts, but we can give you smokes and
chocolate almost any time. Have some more!"
He made the boys and their comrades so welcome that they hated to
leave to go to roll call. But this must be done, and soon they were
assigned to barracks, much the same as in Camp Dixton.