On Land and Sea at the Dardanelles Part 12

Ken, flattened against the clay face of the trench, began to feel very uneasy. They had no more reinforcements, and if the Turks got more guns, it began to look as though the whole business would end in failure.

'About time we did another sally to look for that machine gun,' said big Roy Horan in his ear.

'Not in the daylight,' answered Ken, shaking his head. 'We shouldn't have a dog's chance of reaching it.'

'Well, something's got to happen pretty soon,' answered Roy, ducking, as a sh.e.l.l burst almost overhead. 'Something's got to happen, or there won't be enough of us left to hold this blessed dug-out.'

'Things don't look healthy, and that's a fact,' allowed Ken. 'Our only chance is to get some guns to work. And that's just what we haven't got.'

'And can't get, either, until that path up the cliff is finished.'

At that moment a sh.e.l.l pitched full into the next traverse, blowing its two occupants to fragments, and scattering their torn remains far and wide.

'That's poor old Carroll,' growled Roy. 'The swine! How I'd like to get back on 'em!'

Ken did not reply. The horror of it had made him feel quite sick.

At that moment the firing burst out more hotly than ever. It seemed as if every gun and rifle in the enemy's hands spoke at once.

'What's up now?' muttered Roy.

Ken gave a sharp exclamation, and pointed upwards. Looking up, Roy saw a big bi-plane soaring high overhead. It looked like a silver bird as it skimmed across the rich blue of the afternoon sky.

'Hurrah, a plane at last!' said Ken joyfully. 'That means business. She's spotting for the ships,' he explained. 'You'll see something pretty soon, you chaps, or hear it anyhow.'

All around the plane, the air was full of the white puffs of bursting shrapnel, but the dainty man-bird flirted through them unscathed. The eager Australians, all staring skywards, saw her bank steeply, and at the same time a long white streak shot downwards from her, like a ribbon unrolling in mid air. Then she had turned and was going seawards again at a terrific speed.

'Now look out!' cried Ken, and almost as the words left his lips the battleships outside let loose.

A score of 6-inch guns spoke out at once with a ringing clamour which absolutely drowned all other sounds, and their great 100-pound sh.e.l.ls came hurtling inland with a series of long-drawn shrieks.

'Look! Look!' cried Ken again, as great fountains of earth and gravel spurted from the side of a hill a mile and a half away to the left. That's plastering them. Now we're getting a little of our own back.'

There was no doubt about it. The German guns shut up like a knife, but whether they were actually hit or merely silenced, it was, of course, impossible to say.

For twenty solid minutes the grim battleships and cruisers poured forth their storm of sh.e.l.ls, until the whole hill-side where the German guns had been posted gaped with brown craters. Then they ceased, and the saucy aeroplane came buzzing inland again to observe and report upon the damage done.

What its extent was the Colonials could not, of course, know, but at any rate the enfilading guns remained silent and the worst danger was at an end.

'That's saved our bacon,' said Ken, with a sigh of relief. 'We'll get a little rest now, perhaps.'

'Maybe ye will, and maybe ye won't,' said Sergeant O'Brien, who came past at that moment and overheard Ken's words. 'But if ye want forty winks, bhoys, now's your time to s.n.a.t.c.h 'em. There'll be mighty little slape this night for any of us.'

'Why so, sergeant?' asked Dave.

[Ill.u.s.tration: '"Hurrah, a plane at last!" said Ken.']

'Because so soon as ever it's dark we'll have the Turks buzzing round us like bees. And the ships can't help us then, remember,' he added significantly.

CHAPTER VII

'LIZZIE' LETS LOOSE

Sergeant O'Brien was soon proved a true prophet. Darkness had hardly fallen before the scrub in front was alive with Turks, who came on with a rush, intent on driving the Colonials out of their position.

'Steady, boys!' cried the sergeant. 'Don't fire till ye can see them. Let every cartridge tell.'

Every officer and every non-com. down the long length of the trench was giving the same advice, and the Turks were allowed to approach until their squat forms loomed clear in the starlight.

'Now let 'em have it. Pump it into 'em, lads!' came O'Brien's voice again.

With one crash every rifle spoke at once, and at the same time the maxims turned loose their hose-pipe streams of lead. The Turks seemed to melt and vanish under the concentrated storm of fire. Not one reached the trench.

'Socked 'em that time,' remarked Dave, with great satisfaction.

'Sure, that was only the overture!' answered O'Brien. 'They were just thrying their luck, so to spake.'

Again he was right. As soon as the survivors of the first attack had retreated the air became thick with the shriek and moan of shrapnel, and the vicious whizz of Mauser bullets. This went on for nearly an hour, then a second attack materialised.

It was in heavier force than the first, and though the steady fire of the Colonials did tremendous execution, some of the Turks actually reached the trench and came plunging in, stabbing wildly with their short bayonets.

Not one of them ever got out again, but they did a good deal of damage, and during the lull that followed the stretcher-bearers were busy. Five separate times during the hours of darkness did fresh ma.s.ses of Turks sweep down upon the worn and weary Colonials, and twice parties of the latter counter-attacked and drove the survivors helter-skelter before them.

'Jove, I never was gladder to see daylight,' said Ken hoa.r.s.ely, as a pale yellow light began to dim the stars. His eyes stung with powder smoke, his mouth was sour with fatigue, and every muscle in his body ached.

'Well, lad, we've made good, anyway,' said O'Brien with a smile on his blackened face. 'Just take a peep over, and see what ye can see.'

Ken raised his head cautiously and peered through the embrasure in front.

The sight that met his eyes was a terrible one. The scrub for nearly a hundred yards in front of the trench had almost vanished. It had been literally mown down by the storm of bullets which had raged across it all night long. And all the open s.p.a.ce was paved with the bodies of dead and wounded men. There were hundreds of them, some on their faces, some on their backs, most of them still enough, a few trying to crawl away, and others moaning feebly.

It was a horrible sight, and for the moment Ken felt almost sick.

'They'll not thry it again just yet,' said O'Brien quietly. 'The next attack will be one in force, and for that they'll need more men than they've left here.'

'And we'll be ready for them then, eh, sergeant?' said Roy Horan cheerfully. 'There's more than ourselves been busy during the night.'

As he spoke he pointed over in the other direction, and Ken, with difficulty withdrawing his eyes from the scene of slaughter in front, looked back down the cliff.

A cry of delight escaped him. A regular road had been made, curving all the way up the cliff, and two field guns had been brought up, and set in position. In spite of the enemies' fire, all sorts of stores had come ash.o.r.e in the night, and the camp cooks were already busy preparing breakfast.

It was the first hot meal that any of the men had had for thirty-six hours, and it did them all the good in the world. When it was over they were told to take what sleep they could.

Ken and his two chums needed no second order. They simply pitched themselves down, and no one ever slept better on a spring mattress than Ken did in the muddy bottom of that trench.