Army Boys in the French Trenches Part 8
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CHAPTER VI
A TASTE OF COLD STEEL
Planted at intervals in the trench were rows of iron stakes, coming to a sharp point at the top and cunningly camouflaged so that they would not be detected by any one looking over the edge. The Army boys were not slow in seeing the meaning of the trap and the fiendish ingenuity that had conceived it.
"It's a dummy trench!" murmured Corporal Wilson. "The idea is to have their men seem to retreat into it when the fighting takes place on this part of the line. Our boys come on in pursuit, jump over the edge, come down on these sharp stakes and are spitted like larks. Nice way to wage war, that!"
"It's worthy of the Hun," growled Tom.
"And when you've said that you've reached the limit," observed Bart.
"The Turks are pretty good at torture," murmured Frank bitterly, "but they must feel like thirty cents when they compare themselves with their German masters."
"Let's get these things out of the way," said Billy wrathfully, as he grasped one of the spikes.
But the corporal stopped him instantly. "Don't dig them out!" he cried.
"There's no knowing but what you may cause an explosion. Or they may have some electric connection that will give warning to the Boches.
We've spotted the location of this infernal trap and that's enough. Our officers will see that our men steer clear of it."
"Of course," remarked Bart, "all the value to the Huns of this trap depends upon our boys jumping in from the top of the trench. If they came in from the entrance to the dugout, all the trouble of planting these spikes would be thrown away."
"It would be a trap just the same, only in a different way," replied the corporal. "It's a safe bet that the Germans have machine guns planted where they can sweep the whole length of this part of the trench. They'd wait until our boys were all crowded in here and then the machine guns would start spitting and wipe every last one of them out. There'd be no way to get put except the way they had come in, and no one could get through that storm of bullets. But now let's get out of this while the going's good."
The conversation had been carried on in the faintest whispers, and after the first hurried examination of the dummy trench there had been no light. But they all felt better when they had pa.s.sed out of the trench without mishap and lay on the ground above. Here they were at least in the open, and if death came to them they would not be slaughtered like rats in a trap.
The corporal consulted his radio watch and found that it wanted but two hours to dawn.
"Not much time left, boys," he murmured. "And unless we get back to our lines before daylight, we'll stand a good chance of losing the number of our mess. But if we don't do anything else, we've done a pretty fair night's work. The finding of this dummy trench will put a crimp in the Heinies' plans. I'd like to have some prisoners to take along just for luck but all we've bagged is that sentry."
"Perhaps we haven't even got him," suggested Frank. "Some of his comrades may have found him by this time."
"Not likely," replied Bart. "He couldn't make a noise, and as we left him outside the wire they wouldn't be likely to stumble over him."
"All the same, we'd better get a hustle on," replied the corporal, and they started on their homeward journey as stealthily as they had come.
They had some difficulty in finding the breach in the wire through which they had entered, but at last they succeeded and wormed their way out.
Then they felt around for the sentry and found him in the place they had left him. He had returned to consciousness, for when the corporal risked a ray of his flashlight on the upturned face, they could see that his eyes were open and looking at them intelligently.
The corporal placed the muzzle of his revolver against the man's neck as a gentle reminder of what would happen to him if he should make a sound, and they proceeded to untie his hands. Then they motioned to him that he was to get on his hands and knees and go before them, which, with m.u.f.fled grunts, and after two or three attempts, he succeeded in doing.
He was evidently dazed yet and stiff from the cramped att.i.tude in which he had been lying, but stern necessity was on him and he finally wobbled and staggered on before them.
They had got some little distance away from the wires when Frank suddenly came to a dead stop. His comrades halted instantly.
"What is it?" whispered Wilson, who was nearest to him.
"That blur ahead of us," returned Frank. "It looks a little more solid than the rest of the darkness."
He pointed ahead and a little to the right.
"I don't see anything," remarked Tom.
"Neither do I," affirmed Billy.
"I think I see a little blacker patch than usual," declared Bart. "And it seems to be moving."
The corporal put his ear to the ground.
"I think Sheldon is right," he said, after a moment of intense listening. "At any rate we'll take no chances. Slip into some of these sh.e.l.l holes and lie low. If it should be an enemy patrol and there are too many to tackle we'll let them go by. But if there aren't more than double our number we'll take a crack at them. Keep your weapons ready and let fly when I give the word."
The ground was so pitted with craters from the heavy artillery duel that had been raging all the day before that they had no difficulty in finding shelter. Their prisoner, who judged by the preparations that some of his own comrades were approaching, was inclined to balk a little and delay matters, but a vigorous push of Bart's boot hastened his movements and he was tumbled in unceremoniously. And they blessed the precaution that had still left the gag in his mouth when they had unfastened his hands.
More and more the blur ahead of them detached itself from the surrounding darkness, until even skeptical Tom and Billy knew that what they saw was a body of men bearing down steadily in their direction.
Of course there was a chance that it was an American patrol out on an errand similar to their own, but it was unlikely, if that were so, that they would be going in the direction of the enemy's lines when the night was so far spent.
Nearer and nearer came the party until not more than thirty feet lay between them and the American boys who knelt in the sh.e.l.l holes, with faces stern and set and fingers on the triggers of their rifles awaiting the word of command.
But for some unknown reason the blur became motionless and remained so for several minutes. Then it receded, as though the party had changed its plan.
"What do you suppose is the matter with them?" whispered Tom. "Do you think they've tumbled to our being here?"
"How could they?" returned Frank. "They'd have to have the eyes of cats to see us in these holes."
"I hope the corp will let us go after them," murmured Billy. "I'm all tuned up for a sc.r.a.p."
Wilson hesitated. If he went after the supposed enemy, they would probably hear him and he would lose the advantage of the surprise. On the other hand, that they now seemed to be going in the direction of the American lines might indicate that, after all, they were a patrol of his own comrades. But while he weighed the chances, the question was solved for him by the fact that the blur again became distinct. And this time it grew larger very rapidly, indicating that the party had at last reached a definite decision. On they came until only a few paces separated them from the Army boys.
Just then a star sh.e.l.l rose from the German lines and sent a flare of light stabbing the darkness and clearly revealing a dozen or more Germans. As they were facing the glare they were momentarily dazzled by it, and the Americans peering beneath their black hoods on a level with the ground could have easily escaped detection had they been so inclined.
But that instantaneous flash had decided the corporal. The odds were more than two to one, but such odds as that was only a challenge to Yankee fighting blood.
"Fire!" he shouted, and five rifles spoke as one. Three of the enemy went down as though stricken by an axe, and another staggered and his rifle clattered to the ground.
But the enemy rallied almost instantly, and at a hoa.r.s.e command there was a return volley. This proved harmless, however, for the boys knew that it would come and bent beneath the edge of the craters until the iron storm had swept over them.
"Now, boys, at them with your bayonets!" shouted Corporal Wilson, as soon as he had drawn the enemy's fire.
With a leap the American squad was on the level ground and rus.h.i.+ng with leveled bayonets at the foe.
The Americans had the advantage of the surprise, and their headlong charge would have won instantly if the forces had been equal. But although two went down at once, the others, after yielding ground somewhat, closed in a death grip with their a.s.sailants, and there was a furious combat at close quarters.
There was no more shooting. It was a matter now of clubbed rifles and bayonet thrusts.
Frank found himself engaged in a bayonet duel with a ma.s.sive German who towered above him in height and probably outweighed him by twenty pounds. He was well trained too in bayonet work and was a most formidable opponent.
But he met his master when he crossed bayonets with Frank. The latter had made himself expert by long training under skilful French instructors, and, besides, was the most finished boxer in the regiment.
At thrust and parry, feint and riposte, advance and retreat, he stood first among his comrades.
Army Boys in the French Trenches Part 8
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Army Boys in the French Trenches Part 8 summary
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