The Kangaroo Marines Part 18

Up leaped Killem and his willing men, and at their side charged the New Zealand boys. Grimly they gripped their rifles, bravely they ran and cheered. A charge is a thrilling and soul-inspiring affair. Danger and death pa.s.s away from the soldier's heart. He is alive, he is filled with the tingling blood and full of the traditions of his race.

The Kangaroos met the Turkish host midway. A shock of men, a shock of arms, a blind confusion, a horrible fierceness and hacking of human flesh.

"Give it 'em, boys," roared Killem above the din. A Turkish officer heard him and aimed his revolver at Killem's head. But Doolan was there again. He pinned his man through the chest, and, with an oath, flung him off his bayonet--dead.

Claud got lost in the _melee_. He found himself surrounded. Bravely he fought, but a bayonet was stuck in his shoulder, and he fell into the struggling ma.s.s of wounded men. Bill, though wounded in the head, fought with the madness of a fiend. With Doolan, he kept close to the Colonel's heels, preserving the body and life of the bravest man in the Australasian force. In that awful hour Killem could often be heard shouting out, "Thanks, boys, thanks!"

At last tenacity and courage told. The Turks broke and fled, yelling in pain and fear. But the price of victory had indeed been costly.

Still, it was worth it all. The position had been saved.

Australasians had again written deep in the annals of war a story of valour as great as Corunna or Waterloo.

"Paddy," shouted Bill as they jumped back into the trenches.

"Yis."

"Where's Claud?"

"He's. .h.i.t," interjected a sergeant. "I saw him fall."

"What--dead?"

"Couldn't say." And the sergeant pa.s.sed on. War does not allow of sentiment or lengthy harangues.

"Curse them!" said Bill, throwing down his rifle in anger. And then this great, strong man collapsed with grief. When a soldier weeps it is sad. This was but the climax of a highly nervous day. Bill's heart, like every bushman's heart, was full of that faith and devotion which pa.s.ses all understanding. Claud was a pal whom he loved like a mother or a brother.

"D---- their bullets! I'm going back to get him," he muttered, preparing to jump out again.

"Paddy Doolan's wid you," said the Irishman. They both jumped out into the still bullet-swept zone.

"Come back, you fools," roared a sergeant.

There was no answer. Bill would not allow discipline or danger to interfere with the call of duty or friends.h.i.+p. On their hands and knees they crawled round the heaps of dead and dying.

"Here he is--here he is, poor boy! Poor boy!" said Paddy as he gazed at the pale, bloodless face of Claud below some battered Turks.

"He's livin', he's livin'. G.o.d be thanked!" mumbled the faithful Irishman as he crossed himself. Bending near, he pulled the listless form from under the dead weight of the men above. Claud groaned.

"That's a good sign, Paddy, eh?"

"Sure, an' he'll drink a gla.s.s wid us yet! But, Heavens! what a hole!"

exclaimed the Irishman, looking at the gaping wound in Claud's shoulder.

"Get his dressing out," said Bill.

Paddy made to rip the dressing out of Claud's jacket. Alas! man proposes and the Turk disposes. A sniper's rifle pinged, and a bullet hit Paddy in the arm. It fell, shattered and useless.

"Back, Paddy--into the trenches for your life. I'll carry Claud."

The brave Irishman, realising he was now useless, reluctantly obeyed.

Bill then heaved Claud over his shoulder and followed hard.

Bang! Bang! Bang! went the Turkish rifles. Claud was. .h.i.t in the hand, and poor Bill struck in the leg and back; then he fell exhausted into the trench, the wounded Claud on top.

"Bravo! Buster--you're a white man, anyway," said the Colonel.

"A done man, Colonel," said Bill with a wan smile as he fainted away.

His wounds and Claud's wounds were bound with the Colonel's own hand.

Then commenced the weary procession through trench after trench to the hospital below. They were but two in a cavalcade of thousands. They pa.s.sed from the zones of dead into the camp of tears and moaning. Men shattered and dying were there; others, more fortunate, wetted their lips and eased their way to G.o.d.

Poor Claud and Bill arrived, senseless, almost lifeless. But kind hands staunched their wounds, allayed their thirst, and carried them on board the s.h.i.+p for Alexandria. There they found the first taste of that gentle peace which is soothing to the heart of every nerve-racked soldier. Nourishment soon brought them round. And, strange to say, both returned from the land of wanderings to the delights of reality at the same time.

"Bill! Bill!" muttered Claud as he came round. "I'm here, ole sport,"

said Bill, holding out his pale, wan hand.

"Good! But where's Paddy?"

"Sure, an ould Paddy's here," roared Doolan from a berth on the other side of the deck.

"Thank G.o.d!" And Claud tumbled into a more natural sleep, refreshed with the thought that at least two out of his three friends still lived.

Sips of brandy, drops of milk, clean bandages, and willing Australian nurses soon brought the genial three round to a more normal state. And in speaking of Australian nurses, let me say that they are the finest girls in the hospital world. They may laugh, they may flirt, but they can work. They have no side and no false airs. They want to do their job in the quickest, kindest, quietest way that can be found.

The great s.h.i.+p slipped through the breakwater of Alexandria. Hundreds awaited her coming--nurses, doctors, and friends. Bill and Claud could not get up to view the scene. But Paddy watched it all. His eyes scanned the faces on sh.o.r.e. At last they rested on a familiar figure--a girl with a beautiful form, a charming but an anxious face.

Yes, it was Sybil Graham. He slipped down to the ward below and stepped to Claud's bed.

"I've seen her, and doesn't she look swate?"

"Who?" said Claud in a knowing way.

"Sybil, ye fathead! And, mind ye, mine's a kiss for bringing the news."

"Right, old chap; and I'll see that you get it," said the now excited owner of this Australian girl's heart.

The boat was now alongside. Ropes were down and fixed. The sh.o.r.e gangway was up, and, in response to the somewhat wild and frantic shouts and grins of Paddy Doolan, Sybil Graham dashed up the steps three at a time.

"Oh, Paddy!" she said, with tears in her eyes. "Where is he?"

"This way, ye darlint." And down into the ward leaped the now madly excited Irishman. Sybil followed. As she reached the foot of the stairs she saw her lover. Nurses, doctors, and patients were then startled with a shriek of delight from a beautiful vision who pounced to a bed and smothered her hero with kisses. Bill and Paddy watched it all.

"Say, Miss Sybil, where do I come in?" said Bill with a sort of well-feigned growl.

"Surely! There's _one_ for you, you dear, dear old bushman," she said, kissing his black-bearded lips.

"Here, Sybil, isn't it Paddy's turn now? He brought the news of you."