With Haig on the Somme Part 37

"Very well, you shall join the bombers; and presently I will bring you a bag of sweetmeats of the sort the French do not find to their liking."

His nod implied that there was already a secret understanding between them, and as he pa.s.sed on Dennis saw possibilities looming in the future. A bomber acted more or less independently, and an avenue of escape was opened up to him.

All that July day, however, the battalion remained on the bank of the ca.n.a.l resting; and during the afternoon the mist, which had never entirely cleared away, returned, and a thick grey fog m.u.f.fled the marshlands.

True to his promise, the sergeant had provided him with a sheaf of grenades with copper rods to be fired from the rifle and a collar of racket bombs, and Dennis sprang smartly to his feet when the word was given to fall in.

"We are going to attack in ten minutes," said the sergeant. "There are two places--the village of Biaches over yonder, and the hill of La Maisonette more to the left. The French carried them on the 9th; they will be ours again to-night. The fog is the very thing for us; nothing could be better. Our battalion will take Biaches, and it will be hot work."

"What are the troops we shall have to face, sergeant?" said Dennis.

"Senegalese, I am told--Black Devils, who stick at nothing--and some Territorials, mostly old men and fathers of families; but we shall see."

"Yes, we shall see!" murmured Dennis, as the command "_Links schliessen!_" was given, and the battalion touched in to its left.

Hoa.r.s.e voices bellowed out of the thick mist, and the 307th Reserve Battalion, after marching for a short distance along the river, filed across a lock bridge and plunged into the woods.

Smoking was forbidden, and strict silence enjoined. Other battalions had come from Peronne by way of the Faubourg de Paris, and there were several halts to establish communication.

Overhead the fog was tinged with a rosy hue, but round about the men all was grey, and one could see very little farther than the spectral tree-trunks in one's immediate vicinity.

The foxy-faced captain with the gold-rimmed gla.s.ses marched behind his company, and in his hand he carried a brutal whip, a veritable cat-o'-nine-tails. When a man stumbled over some hidden tree root he would hiss out "Pig!" or "Clumsy hound!" And Dennis felt his heart leap as he heard himself addressed.

"You with the bombs there--what are you doing with those brown boots?"

said the captain.

"They belong to an English prisoner," said Dennis, with perfect truth.

"That is no excuse," said the officer sternly. "You will report yourself after this affair is over for daring to go into action improperly dressed. What is your name?"

"Carl Heft, Herr Captain," said Dennis, over his shoulder.

"Very well, I shall remember it," snarled the bully. And, changing his tone, he shouted "Vorwarts!" as a shot rang out ahead of them, and they heard the French sentries give the alarm.

Instantly the hoa.r.s.e roll of drums rose from the advancing battalions, and everyone quickened his pace. The wood thinned out, and, bursting from the trees, the 307th Reserve Battalion flung themselves with the bayonet upon the ruined village of Biaches.

There was a belfry tower still standing, and the chimney of a factory--all the rest was a heap of shattered dwelling's round which the greeny-grey wave surged with a roar.

In front of them figures in blue-grey ran scurrying, and were joined by others, and the rifles began to speak.

"This is all very well," thought Dennis, finding himself between two fires. "I had better lie doggo for a bit while they get on with it."

And, stepping inside the ruins of a small shop, he flung himself down on a heap of bricks in the posture of a wounded man.

It would have been madness to do otherwise, for the machine-guns were raining bullets everywhere; and, trembling with excitement, he lay unnoticed for a good half-hour, until a hoa.r.s.e cheer in German told him that Biaches had pa.s.sed into the enemy's hands. At almost the same moment the modern chateau, surrounded by its park of fine trees on the hill of La Maisonette, had been retaken by the Germans from Peronne.

But Dennis smiled quietly to himself.

"My chance will come when the counter-attack begins," he thought. "Those brave Frenchmen don't take this sort of thing lying down."

As the firing died away cheer after cheer rent the air, followed by a babel of voices in German as every man worked hard to consolidate the position; and as the dusk drew down Dennis thrust his rifle grenades inside the broken chimney of the little shop, and ventured out into the open air.

CHAPTER XXVIII

The Exciting Adventures of "Carl Heft"

The strain of lying there hour after hour had become unbearable. The idea had also struck him that now was his opportunity to glean some information, if possible, about the lie of the land. There would be warm work, he knew, and that before long, for the French "75's" were barking in the distance, and sh.e.l.ls were falling about Biaches and upon the hill away to the left.

Field wagons from Peronne had clattered past his hiding-place, carrying reels of barbed wire, and if he were fortunate he might be able to slip through the advanced German trench before it was hedged in by that difficult barricade. Bodies were lying thickly strewn among the brick heaps, and one little alley down which he tried to pa.s.s was piled up six deep with corpses.

"I wish I could get on a listening post," he thought to himself. "That would give me a fine chance." And just then he collided with somebody, who shook him by the shoulder and swore l.u.s.tily; and he recognised the voice of the good-natured sergeant.

"You should look where you are going, Kamerad," said the man. "And, by the way, where _are_ you going?"

"To the front trench, sergeant," replied Dennis, speaking at a venture.

"I have just secured a fresh supply of racket bombs."

"What, you are Carl Heft, surely! Good lad, I did not see you in the melee, but I have no doubt you acquitted yourself well. I also am going to the front trench, to our company's sector. We will go together."

Dennis clenched his teeth, but he knew that he must put a good face on the matter.

"With pleasure, sergeant," he made answer. And the pair walked along side by side. "Have we lost many?" he inquired.

"Yes, a good few, and I believe it was their own fault. To tell you the truth, Heft, the battalion is not in a good state; they were left too long over there in the front line without being relieved. Our company in particular is very homesick, and can you wonder when you look at the captain they have?"

"True, he is a great brute. You will let me say that to you, sergeant?"

replied Dennis, anxious to draw the man out.

"Have no fear; I shall not report you," said his companion, with a friendly squeeze of the arm. "He is not only a great brute, but he is an arrant coward into the bargain. The men do not mind being cuffed and bullied, because they are used to it; but when they see their officer never expose himself, and always shouting from the rear 'Get on, you pigs!' they don't like it. But, Himmel!"--and he chuckled--"our engineers have surpa.s.sed themselves to-night. I have never seen wire so strong during the war. Our whole front is covered with it; not so much as a rat could get through."

"That is good," a.s.sented his listener, mentally feeling how bad it was for himself, and that, short of a miracle, he must stay where he was until daylight.

"I have just been making a report to Colonel Schlutz," went on the sergeant. "Now you and I will go to a snug little dug-out I have taken possession of. I have a nice piece of sausage which we will share, and what do you think?--four bottles of lager beer! What do you think of that?"

"I say that you are a good comrade, sergeant--the best I have met for many a long day," said Dennis, with a warmth he really felt. This man was evidently a good fellow at heart, an exception to the general run of German non-commissioned officers. And yet it might come about that he would have to kill him, in spite of that nice piece of sausage and those four bottles!

The sergeant had called it a snug little dug-out, that square hole in the chalk, with earth piled on a piece of corrugated iron by way of roof, and great rats peering at them as they sat with their knees touching by the light of a piece of candle.

But to Dennis it was a palace, hiding him, as it did, from inquisitive eyes.

"Surely it is written that I shall win through," he thought to himself.

"Everything seems to point to it."

A sh.e.l.l burst close to them and rattled the corrugated iron, bringing a shower of earth down in front of the dug-out door.

"I will go and see if that has done any damage," said the sergeant. "You may stay here until the alarm is given. Your post will be in that bay in front of us. Why don't you go to sleep? I should if I were not an _Unteroffizier_."