The Brighton Boys in the Radio Service Part 19

And following his suggestion and example, the other two stretched themselves out in the middle of the cavern.

Within the American lines, at that point where a regiment of heavy artillery was stationed, Captain Hallowell raised his hand in signal to his gunner. Out on the parapet of the front trench an anxious colonel was standing, regardless of all danger, a pair of powerful gla.s.ses to his eyes. His vision was focused upon a little light far out in No Man's Land.

Two hundred feet away from that light Joe and Frank Hoskins lay p.r.o.ne upon the ground, silent, impatient, fearful, hoping.

With a quick motion the artillery captain swung his outstretched arm downward. There was a roar, a flash, and a great sh.e.l.l tore through the air. Out in No Man's Land there was a second explosion as the sh.e.l.l hit, and the target--a flashlight--was blown to atoms.

Over in the German trenches a sentinel chuckled at the thought of another wasted American sh.e.l.l, but out of the hole that that sh.e.l.l had torn three pale, haggard, and exhausted youths were crawling to safety and G.o.d's fresh air. And across No Man's Land dashed two pals to greet them.

American determination and American marksmans.h.i.+p had saved three American lives. The German sentinel might have his laugh if he liked.

It was hours later before the three who had been imprisoned learned how their rescue had been effected; but they got an inkling of it as they came within four hundred yards of the American-French front.

"What are you doing?" Lieutenant Mackinson had asked, as Joe brought the party to a stop.

"Just a moment and you will see," Joe had responded.

And, first in wonder and then with a dawning understanding, the other three read off his flashed message:

"Signal Corps men, and whole party safe."

CHAPTER XV

THE SURPRISE ATTACK--PROMOTION

During the week that followed, the lads were confined almost entirely to regular routine work, with nothing particularly exciting. Frank Hoskins'

elbow wound healed quickly, without any serious results; and Tom Rawle, who had been under treatment at the field hospital, was able to get about the camp, although still pale and weak, and limping considerably from his injury.

But on the eighth day a veritable fury launched itself upon that section of the American-French front, in the shape of seemingly endless brigades of Boches that were hurled "over the top" of their own breastworks, across No Man's Land, and upon the first-line trenches of the Allies.

For several days the American and French aviators had been reporting heavy German formations in that region, evidently with the design of a terrific a.s.sault, but the allied commanders had not expected it so soon, and in truth they were not fully prepared for it.

It was a surprise attack in every sense of the word, with all the terrible carnage that such a battle brings.

Shortly before midnight of the preceding night a terrible bombardment had been directed against the American-French trenches, and their hidden artillery to the rear of them. This was kept up for about seven hours, and the duel of heavy guns shook the earth like a quake and was deafening.

Then, just as dawn was breaking, the infantry onslaught, partic.i.p.ated in at some points by detachments of cavalry, began.

For three hours the Americans and the French fought stubbornly and with every ounce of strength and determination. Whole regiments and even brigades were wiped out on both sides, but the Boches, who had prepared every detail of the a.s.sault for weeks, were readier than their opponents and filled the gaps in their lines more quickly.

By noon it became apparent that the sacrifice of lives was becoming too great to warrant the Allies trying to hold their first-line trenches much longer, and that they must give them up, at least until they could re-mobilize their forces for a counter-attack.

The order was therefore given for those in the rear, including food and ammunition trains, field hospitals, etc., to fall back, in order to make way for the strategic retreat of those on the front when the moment for that retreat came.

Everything moved like clockwork, and with the greatest possible speed.

And throughout it all men on both sides were shooting, shouting, shrieking, fighting, falling, while others, trapped in their dug-outs, either surrendered or fought desperately on until they fell wounded or lifeless before superior numbers.

Half a mile in the air, apparently over a point midway between what had been the first-line trenches of the opposing armies, a stationary balloon showed where Jerry and an observation officer were doing duty on that fateful day. Jerry was operating a telephone that ran directly to division headquarters, and hardly a moment pa.s.sed when he was not repeating some observation of the other man in the basket with him, or relaying to him a query from the commander below.

Every detail of that tremendous battle Jerry knew. His own occasional glimpses over the side informed him of the temporary reverses his own army was suffering, while the remarks of the officer told him where the Germans were meeting their bitterest repulses, where they were drawing up their heaviest forces of reserves, what quick changes were being made in their general line of formation, and how far back their forces seemed to extend.

Slim Goodwin, busy as he was with the wireless at headquarters, found time for occasional glances upward at that balloon, to make sure that thus far his friend was still safe.

And even in the thick of machine-gun fire and shrapnel, where Lieutenant Mackinson, Joe, Frank Hoskins and two or three others were laying a new line of communication, the wavering, swaying target was watched from time to time, and speculations made as to how long it could remain without being punctured by a bullet, thus forcing its two occupants to resort to their parachutes to make a landing.

It was now well into the afternoon. The Germans had swept into the places vacated by the Americans and French, and still the battle raged.

It was now that Slim began to wait anxiously for the new development, which his familiarity with the secret orders issued made him know was coming.

And finally it did come, and in a way that staggered the Boches.

The Americans and French had retreated to a general line which permitted a quick re-mobilization to the best advantage. There their front-line ranks held firm, while the new formation was being effected behind them.

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon when this was complete.

Then, in concerted action, the lines opened at alternate points, and pairs, dozens, scores of the huge armored tanks rolled through, their big guns already blazing sh.e.l.ls into the ranks of the disconcerted enemy.

Nothing could halt them. They climbed trench parapets, descended into gullies, came out upon level land, and over their whole path swept destruction to the Germans.

Unable either to resist or to stop the progress of the tanks, which were followed by whole divisions of infantry, the Boches were forced to retreat and not only abandon every foot of the ground they had gained, but to sacrifice a part of their own first line as well.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Scores of Huge Armored Tanks Rolled Through.]

It was one of the greatest and at the same time one of the most sudden reprisals of the war up to that time, and the victory that had been s.n.a.t.c.hed from defeat was cheered by thousands of Americans and Frenchmen as they again took possession of their own trenches, or pushed onward across No Man's Land to occupy those which the Germans were now abandoning.

The sun was setting, and soon, in great measure, at least, hostilities would be suspended for the night.

Their work completed, Lieutenant Mackinson and his men were on their way back to make their report when they met Slim, who had been relieved for the night at headquarters.

"What time did Jerry come down?" Joe asked, after they had pa.s.sed remarks about the various thrills of the day.

"Don't know," Slim answered, "but I saw them there at four o'clock, and they weren't there when I looked again, about half an hour later, so you can judge pretty well for yourself."

"Guess he had a pretty good bird's-eye view of the whole thing," said Joe, as they pa.s.sed on, to meet again before mess.

Except for spasmodic outbursts here and there, the trench duel had almost entirely subsided, and the heavy roar of the artillery also was punctuated with longer pauses. Whatever the morrow might bring, the night promised to be fairly quiet, while each side took account of stock and made necessary repairs, or altered their plans to meet the new situation.

Our young friends were busy with wash basin, soap and water, taking off the grime in preparation for the evening meal and wondering where Jerry was keeping himself all the while, when suddenly a very strange thing happened beyond the enemy's line.

Lieutenant Mackinson was the first to discover it and call the attention of the others.

A Taube, one of the smaller, lighter, and more easily handled aeroplanes, and used in great numbers by the Germans, shot into the air at great speed from behind the Boche entrenchments. In its upward course its path was a dizzy spiral, and, if one on the ground might judge, its pilot seemed to be seeking a particular air channel. At least that was the way it looked.

Then, from almost the same point from which it had come into view, half a dozen other planes rose into the air, following in the path of the first, and also flying at top speed. Up to then there was nothing so very strange about the whole procedure. It simply indicated that those manning the American and French anti-aircraft guns, and the aviators of those two armies, should get ready to repel an enemy air raid.

But the queer thing occurred when every one of the pursuing planes opened up their machine-guns almost simultaneously upon the first. And even this might have been considered a well-designed hoax, were it not for the unmistakable evidence that the first aeroplane, the Taube, had been hit.