ALDERHAME'S GOOD SHOT
A BARRAGE of shrapnel put up by the retreating enemy urged upon
Setley the necessity for taking cover. There was now no need for
further offensive work. The British infantry had occupied sufficient
front for them to consolidate. To proceed further before the
howitzers and heavy guns could be moved up to cover the advance was
injudicious. It could be done. The Tommies, in their enthusiasm,
would have pressed on miles ahead, but prudence on the part of the
cool and calculating staff officers forbade such a step.
"All aboard," ordered Ralph, and with a double crew, the captured Hun
colonel and the shell-shocked dispatch rider in addition, his
landship ambled sedately to the rear, making light of the showers of
shrapnel bullets that rattled ineffectually upon her metal hide.
Beyond the barrage she passed columns of fresh troops hurrying
forward to hold the ground gained, the men cheering the shell-splayed
Tank with the greatest enthusiasm. Other columns were overtaken,
going in the opposite direction--immense droves of muddy, dejected,
hungry Huns and a constant stream of British wounded, some lying
motionless upon stretchers, others being supported by their less
wounded comrades or else hobbling along unaided save for the
assistance of a rifle used as a crutch. Even in their pain the
gallant Tommies cheered the returning landship, and exchanged jests
with those of the crew who in their exuberance had climbed upon her
curved roof.
Guns, too, were going in both directions, the British heavies as fast
as gangs of skilled men laid sections of railway lines--the work
proceeding at a rate that would astonish even the most hustling
Yankee. British horses, too, were making for the rear, dragging
captured German artillery, floundering gallantly through the mud as
if conscious of sharing in the glory of the day.
Ralph's task was not complete with the "housing" of his Tank under
its canvas cover. His report had to be written up and sent in, he had
to attend a supplementary tactical conference in order to be
acquainted with the general scheme of operations for the morrow.
Prisoners had to be interrogated, maps studied--in short, sheer hard
mental work following upon a task of hard and arduous activity, until
utterly fagged he was glad to snatch a few hours' rest before
renewing a close acquaintance with the Huns.
He fell into a deep dreamless slumber, that even the ceaseless
thunder of the guns, that hurled their terrible missiles upon the
German positions, failed to disturb.
Just after midnight Setley was roused by a hand shaking his shoulder.
Sitting up, yet sufficiently cautious to avoid bumping his head
against the beams of the dug-out, he found Danvers by the side of the
bundle of straw that formed his bed.
"A plane has been strafing us," announced his brother-officer.
"'Fraid some of the plums dropped precious close to our buses. Come
along and see if there's any damage."
Setley went out, shivering in the cold night air. It was a starless
night. The lurid flash of the guns lighted the horizon and threw
vague shadows across the crater-pitted ground that a few days
previously had been the No Man's Land of the contending forces. It
was now three miles to the rear of the advancing British line.
A crowd of officers and men wearing steel helmets and great-coats
poured across the ground, all making towards the spot where the Tanks
were "parked."
"All right, sir," Setley heard one of the sentries report to the
senior major. "They did fall a bit close, sir, but not near enough to
do any damage."
"Thank goodness!" ejaculated Ralph, but to satisfy himself he
approached the landship under his command. Not even the canvas
covering was injured, although two Tanks in the vicinity had had
their wrappings torn off by the blast of the exploding bomb.
"The fellow evidently knows where the Tanks are," observed Danvers.
"Deucedly funny how these Huns find out things behind our lines, and
yet not a single enemy airman has ventured over in daylight for the
last week. Eh, what's that?"
A Tommy, hurrying past, had shouted some information to a pal.
Halting, he repeated the news to the subaltern, speaking with a grim
relish.
"'E dropped two bombs, sir, smack into No. 9 Advance Cage, sir. Never
seen such a blessed mess in all me life. I'll allow there are a
couple o' hundred prisoners snuffed out. Anyway, they've got
something to be thankful for. Their carcases won't be used for pigs'
food."
"That knocks your information theory on the head," observed Ralph.
"The airman evidently trusted to luck and it played a shabby trick on
the prisoners."
"Not at all," said Danvers stoutly. "He was trying for the Tanks. The
fact that a cage was within five hundred yards of them didn't trouble
him at all. Cannon fodder, you see; once these Huns are prisoners
they cease to count in the estimation of the German High Command.
That's why it is not advisable to commit reprisals upon prisoners.
Such a step wouldn't affect the Huns in the slightest. It's a safe
card to bombard their 'open' towns by way of reprisals. That makes
them squeal."
"Let's be getting back," suggested Ralph, stifling a yawn.
"Wish I could," rejoined his companion, consulting the luminous dial
of his watch. "Unfortunately I'm down for duty at one-thirty."
"What's up, then?" enquired Setley.
"Over there," replied Danvers, pointing towards the front trenches.
"They've had a squad from a Labour Battalion hard at it, digging a
path for my bus. I was warned to be there at the time I mentioned.
Wanted to hang on all the while, but there was that strafed official
enquiry."
"I'll go with you," suggested Ralph.
"You're dog tired," objected his chum.
"Not at all," protested Setley. "I'll go. It'll give me an appetite
for breakfast, don't you see. I heard that there was to be a
variation from the almost everlasting bully beef. There's bacon,
Danvers, actually bacon."
"Good!" exclaimed the subaltern. "Let's hope it won't be like the
last I tasted. The stuff must have chummed up with the dead end of a
poison gas shell. Ugh! It put me off entirely."
"Know the way?" asked Ralph.
"Rather," was the confident reply. "And I guess we won't be lonely.
There's plenty of life along the path--and death, too," he added
gravely. "We'll follow the track of the Tank."
The well-defined path flattened out by the tractors of Setley's Tank
on its return journey afforded a sure guide, although the compressed
mud was covered with two or three inches of water. Nevertheless the
two officers proceeded with caution; there was no knowing whether a
hostile shell or two had pitched after the landship's return, in
which case there was a possibility of tumbling into five or six feet
of icy-cold water that had drained into the recently formed crater.
"Fritz is still getting badly strafed." observed Danvers, for the
guns were thundering unceasingly. The horizon facing the two
subalterns was one series of lurid flashes as the British shells
pounded the German lines. Haig was taking no unnecessary risks. He
was not a leader to needlessly sacrifice his men in costly frontal
attacks in close formation. That was a German method of military
warfare that had not been accepted by other nations as an essential
to success.
There was a certain mistiness in the air. The stars were obscured.
The faint breeze hardly disturbed the huge clouds of orange-tinted
smoke that stood out clearly against the darkness. Away in the
distance a huge conflagration showed that the British shells had set
fire to a German "dump," or else the Huns were up to their latest
display of _kultur_--setting fire to a village before "voluntarily
retiring to fresh positions."
Contrary to Danvers' expectations their journey was not overburdened
with company. The reliefs had gone; the wounded had been carried off.
A few "sanitary squads," searching in the darkness, were the only men
they met during the first mile of the way.
An aeroplane droned overhead. Neither of the subalterns paid much
heed to it. Aviators [unreadable text] night and day were as common
as [unreadable text] in the early autumn. Ralph [unreadable text]ver,
that it was flying low, its [unreadable text] silhouetted against the
glare on the sky-line.
"Beastly cold job," remarked Danvers. "All[unreadable text] in summer, but on a
night like this----"
"He's planing down," said Setley. "He's shut off his motor."
"So he is," agreed Ralph's companion. "Wonder why? I shouldn't think
a fellow would make a landing here for choice."
They plodded on for another two hundred yards. Suddenly a guttural
voice shouted, "_Wer da?_"
"Huns!" whispered Ralph. Both officers drew their revolvers.
"Are you in need of assistance?" asked Setley in German.
"No, but repairs will take two hours," was the reply. Then, after a
pause, "How far am I from Douai?"
Setley thought fit to enlighten the Hun, who had evidently lost his
bearings in addition to sustaining damage to his machine. By
enquiring for Douai, where the Germans had an aviation ground, the
Boche had given himself away.
"Quite an impossible distance, Herr Aviatiker," responded Ralph.
"Meanwhile, you are our prisoner. Surrender instantly."
Even then the German failed to grasp the significance of the
position.
"Surrender yourselves," he retorted, and placing a whistle to his
lips he blew three short blasts. "Our patrols will be up at once,
Englishmen," he added, "so do not give increasing trouble."
Another airman joined the first--the observer most likely. Dark forms
were approaching. These gave the Huns mistaken confidence, for both
began blazing away with their revolvers at Setley and his companion,
who, dropping on one knee, promptly returned the compliment.
"Hullo!" bawled an unmistakably English voice. "What's the rumpus?"
"German airmen," shouted Ralph in reply.
"Then they're booked," rejoined the speaker.
The disconcerting nature of their blunder completely astounded the
lost airmen. Without attempting to set fire to their machine they
turned and bolted. Neither of the opposing parties had been hit in
the exchange of pistol shots. Revolver firing at sixty yards on a
misty night is not conducive to accurate aim, but with a rifle
matters are placed on a different footing.
The foremost of the approaching squad let rip. Three flashes and
three reports as one stabbed the darkness. One of the fugitives
pitched forward on his face; the other stumbled for a dozen yards and
then rolled sideways to the ground.
"Well done, Alderhame!" exclaimed Ralph.
"Dash my stars!" ejaculated the ex-actor. "I hardly expected to run
across you--'upon the vasty fields of France.'"
"What are you doing here?" asked Setley.
"Ration party, sir," replied Sergeant Alderhame. "We were hurrying
along because we were taking a cheese ration up to our chaps. The
cheese was lively when we started, so we wanted to get the stuff up
before it walked off. There's Ginger Anderson sitting on top of one
lot."
The men were all from the Wheatshires. The supplies they were
bringing up were conveyed in specially constructed wheelbarrows with
broad flanges to enable them to traverse soft ground. Until a narrow
gauge tramway was laid down this was the best means of getting
rations up to the firing line.
"I'll have a look at our birds, sir," continued Alderhame. "I'm
curious to know where they were winged."
"Be careful," cautioned Ralph. "They may be lying doggo."
"Trust me for that, sir," was the rejoinder, then telling his squad
to temporarily abandon their highly scented cargo he ordered hem to
extend and surround the place where the two airmen had fallen.
The pilot was stone dead, with a bullet-wound through the centre of
his back. The observer, hit in the thigh and shoulder, had fainted
through loss of blood. "Ripping shot that one of mine!" exclaimed
Alderhame enthusiastically. "Jolly rummy, though, I can't help
feeling like a sportsman on the moors and it's a human being I've
brought down."
"But a bloomin' Boche," added Ginger the materialist. "One the less
an' no cause to feed 'im."
By the aid of his electric torch Ralph examined the pockets of the
dead pilot, who under his leather coat wore an Iron Cross. Papers
found in his possession showed that the two men were crack Hun fliers
and had set out purposely with the intention of bombing the Tanks. In
addition the disconcerting information was forthcoming that the enemy
had learnt the precise spot in which the landships were parked, and
since no hostile machines had been over during daylight it was
reasonable to conclude a spy had given the news.
"By Jupiter! I'd like to nip the fellow," remarked Danvers, as the
two officers resumed their way. "Smart chap that, sergeant."
"One of my old chums in the Wheatshires," said Ralph. "A decent chap,
only he has the bad habit of flinging Shakespeare at your head every
half minute. I'm rather keen on getting him transferred to the Tank
Section, but haven't had the chance to work it yet."
"A handy man behind a machine-gun, I should fancy. Hullo! That was a
beauty."
A terrific burst of light, followed by half a dozen minor explosions,
occasioned Danver's exclamation. Something, far behind the German
lines, had "gone up." The British artillery were doing good work that
night.
Floundering past gaping shell-holes, for as they approached the
support trenches the craters were more numerous, the two officers
arrived at the scene of the Tank's misadventure.
"Getting along famously, sir," announced Danvers' sergeant. "These
labour chaps have been slogging in like greased lightning. Another
quarter of an hour, sir, and we'll be ready to start."
A great change had taken place in the land topography since the
morning. The pitfall lay exposed in all its nakedness--a wide yawning
cavity of which three sides were as steep and smooth as a
concrete-faced wall. The third had been attacked by the labour
troops--picked navvies of magnificent physique and thoroughly skilled
in the art of digging.
Earth had been cut away until a slope of thirty degrees formed an
inclined plane from the normal surface to the floor of the pit. The
finishing touches were being made, thick planks being put down to
form a corduroy road up the newly made path.
Members of the Tank's crew had also been hard at work fitting new
treads to parts of the tractor bands. Considering the fall the heavy
mass had come off lightly, for the injury to the wheels was the only
material damage.
Danvers surveyed his command with great satisfaction.
"I'm quite attached to the old bus," he confided to Ralph. "Of course
they would have given me another if this one had been properly
strafed, but it's simply great to get her into working order again."
"All ready, sir," reported the sergeant. The two officers entered the
steel box. The motors were purring gently and rhythmically. Amid the
cheers of the excavating squad the Tank moved slowly yet surely up
the incline, and, gaining the shell-pitted ground, waddled sedately
for her base.
"Now for a few hours' sleep," said Danvers.
Ralph stifled a yarn.
"Yes," he admitted, glancing at his wristwatch. "It's now ten minutes
past three--we've done pretty well. At five we start our day's work,
and from all accounts it's going to be a hot time."