Uncle Sam's Boys with Pershing's Troops Part 23

"From here on we must walk," announced Captain Ribaut. "Berger, be sure that you take us by the most direct route. Do not take us into the Hun trenches to-night."

"I know the way excellently, my captain," Berger replied briefly.

For some distance they walked over open country, made dangerous, however, by the presence of gaping sh.e.l.l-holes. Runners, soldiers and others pa.s.sed them going to or from the trenches. The artillery duel, save for an occasional stray shot, had ceased on both sides.

"The road is steeper here," said Berger, halting after he had led his party half a mile through the darkness. "We now go up hill."

It was harder climbing, going up that incline. A quarter of a mile of this, and Lieutenant Terry suddenly found himself following the guide through a cut in between two walls of dirt higher than his head.

"We are in the communication trenches," said Berger in French. Noll gathered the meaning of the remark.

At every few yards there was a twist or a turn in the trench.

At times they came to points where two trenches crossed each other. Had it been left to the Americans to find their own way they would have been hopelessly confused in this network and maze of intersecting ditches. Berger, however, proceeded with the certainty of one long familiar with the locality.

"Here is one of our defence trenches," said Captain Ribaut, halting at last and calling softly to Berger to stop. "This is our fifth line trench, formerly our third line. We have no men here, you will note, nor in the next line. In case of a heavy general attack men would be rushed up from the rear to occupy these two lines of trenches. We will proceed, Berger."

They were soon at the fourth line trench. At the third line trench they found sentries of the reserves on duty.

"The rest of the reserves are sleeping," Ribaut explained. "You will see their dug-out entrances as we pa.s.s along this trench, for I am taking you to the quarters of the battalion commander."

It was necessary to proceed along this third line trench for nearly a quarter of a mile before they came to a dug-out entrance before which a sentry and two runners crouched on the ground.

"Captain Ribaut and American officers present their compliments, and would see Major Ferrus," explained Ribaut.

A runner entered the underground shelter, speedily returning and signing to the visitors to descend the steps. d.i.c.k and his friends found themselves in an underground room of about eight by twelve.

Around the walls were several bunks. At a table, which held a telephone instrument, sat Major Ferrus and two junior officers.

"It is quiet here, after the Hun a.s.sault of this afternoon," explained the French major when the Americans had been presented. "Captain Ribaut, you are taking our American comrades to the front line?"

"That is my instruction, Major."

"It is well, and I think you will find it quiet enough to-night for a study of the Hun line. Still one can never say."

A brief conversation, and the visitors returned to the outer air, where Private Berger awaited them. At the second line trench, which held the supporting troops for the first line, Ribaut took them to the captain of French infantry in command at that point.

"I will send Lieutenant De Verne with you," said the captain, and pa.s.sed the word for that officer.

"Show our American comrades everything that can possibly interest them," was the captain's order.

"I shall do my best, my captain," replied the lieutenant. "But I do not know. The Huns are as quiet, to-night, as though they had tired themselves to death this afternoon."

Turning to Private Berger, Lieutenant De Verne added:

"You may find your way into one of the dugouts if you like, as you will hardly be needed for hours."

"But my orders, my lieutenant, were to remain with the American party," protested Private Berger mildly.

"Oh, very well, then," replied De Verne carelessly.

This time, instead of leading the way, Private Berger brought up the rear.

"You will do well to talk in low tones," the French lieutenant cautioned them in whispers, "for, when we enter the front line trench we shall be only about a quarter of a kilometer from the Huns' first line trench."

With that they started forward. A short stroll through a communication trench brought them to the first line ditch. As the ground was wet here duck-boards had been laid to walk on. The parapet was piled high with bags of sand through which loop-holes had been cunningly contrived for the French sentries who must watch through the night for signs of Hun activity. Over the rear wall of the trench was another built-up wall of sand-bags. This parados, as it was called, is intended to give protection against shrapnel, which often burst just after pa.s.sing over a trench. Thus the parados prevents a back-fire of the bullets carried in the shrapnel sh.e.l.l, which otherwise might strike the trench's defenders.

"You may stand up here on the fire platform, if you wish," whispered Lieutenant De Verne to d.i.c.k in English. "If you do not think it too foolish to expose yourself, you will be able to look over the top of the parapet. First of all you will see our lines of barbed wire fencing and entanglements. Beyond the wire you will see open ground, much torn by sh.e.l.l-holes. Further still you will see the wire defenses of the German first trench, and then the parapet that screens the enemy from your gaze."

Hardly had the French lieutenant finished when d.i.c.k was up and peering with all his might and curiosity. Hardly an instant later the bark of a field-gun was heard to the northward. A whining thing whizzed through the air.

Then, into the trench in which the party stood something thudded, with, at the same instant, a sharp report, a bright flash, and the air was full of flying metal!

CHAPTER XV

OUT IN NO MAN'S LAND

If there was a disgusted person present it was Captain Greg Holmes.

That angry young man spat out a mouthful of dirt, and then tried to rid himself of more.

Major Wells felt more like standing on his head. A fragment of sh.e.l.l had torn away the top of his tunic in back, without scratching his skin, and at the same time had thrown a shower of sand down inside his O.D. woolen shirt. Terry had been knocked over by the concussion, but had sustained no wound and was quickly on his feet, unhurt.

As for Prescott, he had turned, for an astounded second, then, much disturbed over what he believed to have been his fault, he had stepped down from the fire step.

Captain Ribaut and Lieutenant De Verne, neither of whom had been touched, looked on and smiled.

As Prescott stepped down to the duck-boards he saw Private Berger come back into the trench from the adjoining traverse, the latter a jog in the trench line intended to prevent the enemy from raking any great length of trench during an attack.

"I hadn't an idea that just raising my head over the parapet would bring cannon fire so promptly," d.i.c.k murmured to Ribaut.

"Nor did that act of yours bring cannon fire," rejoined Captain Ribaut.

"Then what did?"

"It must have been that it just happened," replied the Frenchman.

Private Berger stood leaning with his right hand on top of the sand-bag parapet.

"Shall I get back on the fire step for another look?" d.i.c.k inquired.

"Why not?" inquired Captain Ribaut, shrugging his shoulders.

"Why not, indeed, if there is anything you wish to see?"

Waiting for no more d.i.c.k again mounted to the fire step, raising his head over the top, this time with greater caution.

"There it is again!" he cried, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, his words causing his friends astonishment.