Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Firing Line - novelonlinefull.com
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"The professor is going to have some job on his hands if he expects to find any young ladies on the other side of that," and Ned waved his hand to indicate the terrain possessed by the Huns.
"Oh, we can get through if we attack in force," declared Bob. "And maybe that's why they brought us up--there may be going to be an attack."
"We'll have to get through--for objects big and little; that the professor may find his girls and his inheritance and," and here Ned's lips set a little grimly, "that we may help to bring back freedom to the earth."
"There may be an attack all right, if Foch, Pershing and the other generals think it's a good time for it," said Jerry. "But as for having it postponed until our arrival, well, you boys have some ideas of your ability."
"Oh, I didn't mean that!" cried Bob. "I meant that maybe we'd be in the big battle."
"I hope we are," said Ned. "We want to do our share."
This opportunity soon came to the boys. As soon as they reached their headquarters--a series of ruined buildings in which they had pa.s.sed the night--they were told to get ready to go up and take their places in the trenches. But first they were given a little talk by one of the officers, who explained the necessity of donning gas masks at the first alarm. Other instructions were given, and then, when it was seen that every man had everything he needed, from the first-aid kit to the grotesque-looking gas mask, the trip to the first-line trenches was begun.
So much has been written about the World War that it seems needless to explain anything about the trenches. As all know, they were a series of ditches, about six feet deep, dug along in front of similar ditches constructed by the enemy. The distance between the two lines of trenches varied from a few hundred feet to several thousand.
The ditches, or trenches, were not in straight rows. They zig-zagged to make attacks on them more difficult. There were several rows of trenches on both sides of No Man's Land. This was so that in the event of an attack the men could fall back from one line of trenches to the other, fighting meanwhile to drive off the enemy.
The trenches were narrow, about wide enough for one man, though two might pa.s.s by squeezing. At intervals, however, were wider places where food or wound-dressing emergency stations could be established.
At other places there were large excavations where dugouts were constructed, and there relief parties rested and slept if they could between periods of duty.
The bottoms of some of the trenches were covered with "duck boards,"
or short planks, with s.p.a.ces between to let the water run out, and in certain parts of France it seemed to some of the boys to rain about three hundred out of the three hundred and sixty-five days of the year.
The trenches were sometimes braced with boards and cross pieces of wood, such as is often used when a sewer is dug through the streets, and again wicker-work, or jute bagging, might be used to hold the earth firm.
Below the top of the trenches, in certain places, were projections.
These were firing steps, and the men stepped up on these to aim their rifles at the enemy. In certain other places were set up improvised periscopes, so that an officer could look "over the top," and, by a series of reflecting mirrors, observe what was going on in the enemy's country.
Again, at other places in the trenches, light artillery, such as machine guns and grenade throwers were set up. Here and there were little stoves to warm the food brought up whenever a relief party could get through the rain of sh.e.l.ls. In some places heavy concrete or wooden dugouts were constructed, well under ground, though the Germans did more of this than the Allies, the Hun trenches being very elaborate at times.
And it was to these trenches that Ned, Bob and Jerry, with their comrades, were led. There they would remain on duty for a specified time differing under varying conditions, or until an attack was either made by them or by the enemy. After that, in case the enemy were successful, trenches farther in the rear must be occupied. But in the event of the German attack being repulsed, and a counter-attack carrying the Allies forward, advanced trenches--possibly those deserted by the Huns--would be used.
"Forward!" came the command, and the three Motor Boys advanced. They did not march long in open formation. To do this would be dangerous, within range of the German guns as they were, and, too, they might be seen by a Hun observer in an aeroplane. So, in a little while the advancing squad, of which Ned, Bob and Jerry formed a part, found itself in a communicating trench. This was a ditch dug at right-angles to the front-line trenches, and through this the relief pa.s.sed, and food and ammunition were brought up.
The communicating trench zig-zagged, as did the front-line ones, to provide greater safety, and the boys finally gave up trying to guess in which direction they were going. All they could see was the sky above their heads.
Suddenly, however, the trench widened, and they saw another crossing it. At this point, too, there was what seemed to be a rough door, made of planks nailed together.
"This is your dugout," said the leading officer, indicating that Ned, Bob and Jerry, with some others, were to remain there, while he led the rest farther on.
"Glad you've come," remarked a haggard-looking officer, who was to be relieved by the commander of the squad in which were the three chums.
"Has Fritz been bothering you?" asked Lieutenant Anderson, who was in charge of the relief.
"Has he? Well, rather! And then some! You have my permission to stay as long as you please! Come on, boys!" and he led his war-weary men back to a rest billet.
"Make yourselves at home, fellows," said the lieutenant. "And wipe your feet before you come in," he added with a laugh, as he looked down at his muddy boots.
The pa.s.swords had been given and received. The other relief party had pa.s.sed on to allow other worn-out men to get some rest. Ned, Bob and Jerry looked about them. They were in a dirt ditch, filled here and there with puddles of water from the last rain, and the clouds still hung in the sky.
"Where are the German trenches?" asked Ned.
"Where? Right in front of us--over there," and the lieutenant pointed.
"Wait, I'll show you, and everybody get this, and take a lesson from it!" he added.
He held up a steel helmet on the end of a stick. In an instant it went spinning off and fell at his feet in the trench. He picked it up, pointing grimly to a neat little hole through it and said:
"That's what will happen to any one of you if he sticks his head up.
You're in the front-line trench. Don't forget it!"
CHAPTER XI
A NIGHT PATROL
Every one who saw the heavy steel hat so neatly pierced by the swift bullet was impressed by the object lesson, as the lieutenant had intended all of them should be. But, somehow or other, Bob Baker seemed more fascinated than either of his chums, and, indeed, more than any other member of that particular relief squad.
"Did a Hun bullet do that?" asked Bob, as he picked up the head protector and looked at the hole.
"That's what it did, my boy," answered the officer. "And that's what will happen to you, or any one else, if you stick your head up above the trench."
"And the Huns did that!" murmured Bob, who seemed not to be able to efface from his mind the picture of the punctured, spinning helmet.
"Then we're right within range of their fire."
"Considerably so," answered the lieutenant. "In places the German trenches are only six hundred feet away, and that's nothing for the modern rifle. It can kill at over a mile."
"So, Chunky," observed Jerry, "you've been under fire now."
"Yes," said Bob, and his voice was sober, "we've been under fire."
"Of course this isn't anything!" the lieutenant exclaimed with a laugh, as he kicked aside the bullet-punctured helmet Bob had dropped.
"This is just a little byplay. You'll be under heavier fire than this, but don't worry. It takes a good many bullets to get a man. However, don't think of that. Do your duty. That's what you're here for!"
The lieutenant looked somewhat anxiously into the faces of the relief squad he was to command. Every officer likes to know that he has the bravest of men in the army, and this young officer was no exception.
The firing line where the Motor Boys now were--the front-line trenches--was no place for cowards.
But the faces that looked back into the young lieutenant's gave no reflection of fear. And at this he breathed in relief. There was puzzled wonder on the countenance of some, and grim determination on others, and this last was what counted.
And then began for the Motor Boys and their chums a life of the utmost tension, strenuousness, and danger, although theirs was a comparatively quiet sector at that particular stage of the war, and they were holding the trenches more to guard against a surprise attack than anything else.
"Well, there's one comfort," remarked Jerry, as he was placed in his station in the trench, with Bob on one side and Ned on the other, both within talking distance.
"What?" asked Bob. "Do we get better eats here?"
"Eats, you heathen!" exclaimed Ned. "Can't you forget that once in a while? What are you going to do if the Germans make you a prisoner?
They won't feed you at all!"