HOW NEAL WON HIS DECORATION
Great was the astonishment and delight of Neal Kennedy on learning that
his two former schoolmates were now on their way to the front to join
the famous American escadrille that had for a long time been rendering
such a good account of itself in the service of France.
“It’s hard for me to believe I’m awake, fellows,” he assured them, his
eyes still kindling with eagerness as he surveyed their uniforms and
military caps. “To think of you having spent all that time in Virginia
learning to fly; and then finishing down at Pau, while I’ve been
running an ambulance and carrying wounded poilus to the rear!”
“Don’t say a word against your calling, Neal!” exclaimed Tom. “Why,
it’s great! Every day you fellows are risking your lives!”
Neal drew in a long breath.
“Thank you for saying that, Tom. You know, there are times when it
galls a fellow to find himself just an ambulance driver--a fellow who,
if he had his way, would be doing stunts in the air, and striking blows
against the Kaiser. But, gee! that’s foolish, and I suppose there is
some honor about it. See here!”
He opened his coat and showed them a decoration which, modest fellow
that he was, he had actually kept hidden out of sight.
“Why, that is the Croix de Guerre, and something anybody might be proud
to wear! Do you mean to say they decorated you with it, Neal Kennedy?”
gasped Jack, touching the emblem almost reverently, for he knew it was
the hope of every French soldier to march home some day with such an
embellishment on his breast.
“Oh, they seemed to think it was some sort of especial act of bravery,
just because I drove my ambulance on the field while the shells were
bursting around me and loaded up with some of the poor fellows,
escaping by an inch when the Germans came rushing up. I just couldn’t
help it. I felt mean that day, as if I was being cheated out of all the
fun.”
“Shall we get aboard, and go along with you, Neal?” asked Tom, fearing
lest by lingering there all of them were losing precious time.
“Sure thing, fellows,” they were immediately told. “Plenty of room
here on this seat. Just chuck your stuff inside, and we’ll be off. As
luck has it, I know where the American fliers have their roost far back
of the lines. To tell you the honest truth it’s against rules, but I’ll
take you in and, more than that, sheer a bit out of my way just to
drive you over toward Bar-le-Duc. It sounds mighty fine to hear good
old United States spoken after all this foreign chatter.”
This was good news to the chums. It certainly seemed that they were
playing in great luck to run across first of all an old acquaintance in
such a remarkable fashion, and then learn that he could drop them at
the camp of the Lafayette Escadrille without any particular trouble.
They could not make fast time of it, such was the choked condition of
the road. There was always a multitude of vehicles going and coming,
together with marching troops, and even batteries on the move to the
front to take their turn at engaging the foe.
The sounds beyond gradually increased in volume as the ambulance
crept gradually closer to the region where French and German big guns
answered each other, though many miles apart.
“We’ll be there in time for supper, boys,” the driver of the Red Cross
ambulance kept assuring his two impatient passengers every now and
then. “And let me tell you those fellows of the Lafayette Escadrille
are a pretty lively bunch, all right. I’ve talked with some of them
lately, and I’ve known a few of them who are gone--Chapman, Prince and
Rockwell.”
He glanced a bit anxiously toward Jack as he said this, but if he
expected to see the other wince in the least he was mistaken.
“Oh! we’ve grown accustomed to that sort of talk, Neal,” explained
Jack quietly. “We know what chances we’re taking, and have made up our
minds to accept the worst. If either or both of us are brought down by
the Boches it’s no worse a fate than being shot to pieces with one of
those big shells. And if Uncle Sam gets in this muddle that’s the fate
thousands of us will likely meet.”
The sun sank lower, and night was not far distant. The big guns no
longer fretted the air in the distance with their constant booming. The
absence of the heavy reverberations was a relief to the tortured ears
of the newcomers, as yet all unused to such a tremendous clamor.
Tom was using his binoculars as well as he could, considering the
motion of the ambulance, the roadway being far from smooth, with more
or less jostling much of the time.
“What interests you up there, Tom?” demanded his chum, noticing the
other scanning the heavens in front of them.
“There are planes aloft, a number of them. But I imagine that is pretty
nearly always the case when the weather permits. Some are so far away
they look like dots. I suppose those are German Fokker and Gotha
machines, of which we’ve heard so much, as they do their fighting with
them against our Nieuports.”
“Let me have a peep! I want to see my first Fokker; though I suppose
in time I’ll get my fill of seeing them, especially when the pilot is
pelting me with lead from his machine-gun.”
After a minute of focusing and staring, Jack continued:
“Yes, I guess those far-away ones must be, as you say, German craft
hovering over their own lines, and mebbe having an occasional fight
with some French or American flier who ventures across No Man’s Land to
engage them. But there’s a machine heading this way now, and coming on
fast, as if about to land.”
“We are close to the camp,” the ambulance driver assured him. “In fact
it’s just half a mile further on. When we’ve rounded that bend ahead
maybe you’ll get a whiff of genuine Yankee cooking in the bargain, for
I hear the boys have succeeded in finding a chap from the States who
used to be a _chef_ in a Broadway lobster palace, and can do things up
brown. I wish I had an invitation to join them some evening. I’m crazy
for real food, cooked as we cook at home.”
Jack felt sorry for Neal. He hoped the time would come some day when
he could invite him to mess with the aviators, many of whom the other
already knew to speak to.
“You see,” continued their friend, the driver, still leaking
information as new subjects occurred to him, “the escadrille doesn’t
hold out at their hangars exactly, but has quarters in an abandoned
villa some little distance in the rear. It allows the boys a chance
to enjoy some of the comforts of real living, so far as beds go, and
rooms in which to sleep. I might also mention a cooking department, and
a mess table at which they often entertain French officers high up in
command. I don’t know but what Joffre himself, and Petain, too, have
been their guests when they chanced to be near by.”
All this was deeply interesting, to Jack in particular. He was sure
that the Americans were being treated royally by the French, who
appreciated the work being accomplished daily by those from across the
sea, and he longed to be in his place.
The bend of the road being presently reached, Tom and Jack saw a
building that had once been a handsome and well-kept villa, though
now showing some of the scars of war. How it chanced to have been
left standing at all, with all that terrible fighting going on in the
vicinity these many months, was more or less of a mystery. But the
Americans had taken up their quarters under the villa roof, and made
themselves at home, after the free-and-easy fashion of their kind.
Just then a car came from the opposite direction, and two young chaps
in the full garb of aviators jumped out, to vanish inside the house.
Jack noted that they had on fur-lined shoes and combinations, also
close-fitting leather flying hoods with goggles. He knew from this that
they had just come from work, and possibly may have even been aboard
that airplane which he had seen drawing nearer until it dipped below
the desolate brim of the treeless landscape.
“I’ll have to drop you here, boys,” said Neal, offering his hand once
more to each in turn. “And say, it’s done me more good than I can tell
you, just to meet you fellows away over here. Seems as if I could smell
Bridgeton air once more.”
“Look us up whenever you’re passing this way, Neal,” said Tom, warmly.
“We’ll always be glad to see you. And some day I’m going to try to get
you an invitation to mess with us, if such things are permitted here.
Don’t forget now!”
“You take it from me I won’t, boys,” said the ambulance driver, who
wore the highly prized decoration under his coat, instead of pinning
it where every one could see it. “I’ve got something to look forward
to now besides carrying wounded poilus to the hospitals in the rear.
Wish you all the good luck going; and when you write home, boys, just
mention meeting me, will you? So-long, fellows!”