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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Jed's Boy, by Warren Lee Goss
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Jed's Boy
- A Story of Adventures in the Great World War
-
-Author: Warren Lee Goss
-
-Release Date: August 17, 2020 [EBook #62956]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JED'S BOY ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Demian Katz, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
-(Images courtesy of the Digital Library@Villanova University
-(http://digital.library.villanova.edu/))
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber’s Notes:
-
-Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_), and text
-enclosed by equal signs is in bold (=bold=).
-
-Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.
-
- * * * * *
-
-CIVIL WAR STORIES BY WARREN LEE GOSS
-
-=IN THE NAVY=, (7th Thousand) Illustrated, 399 Pages, =A Story of naval
-adventures during the Civil war=.
-
- “_The Marine Journal_” says of it: “The author, takes as usual for
- his fiction, a foundation of reality, and therefore the story reads
- like a transcript of real life. There are many dramatic scenes, such
- as the battle between the Monitor and the Merrimac, and the reader
- follows the adventures of the two heroes with a keen interest that
- must make the story popular especially at the present time.”
-
-=TOM CLIFTON, A story of adventures in Grant and Sherman’s armies.=
-(13th Thousand) Illustrated, 480 pages. 12mo. Cloth.
-
- “_The Detroit Free Press_” says of it, “The book is the very epitome
- of what the young soldiers, who helped to save the Union, felt,
- endured and enjoyed. It is wholesome, stimulating to patriotism and
- manhood, noble in tone, unstained by any hint of sectionalism, full
- of good feeling; the work of a hero who himself did what he saw and
- relates.”
-
-=JACK ALDEN: Adventures in the Virginia Campaigns, 1861-65.= (12th
-Thousand) Illustrated, 404 pages.
-
- “_The New York Nation_” says of it: “It is an unusually interesting
- story. Its pictures of scenes and incidents of army life, from the
- march of the 6th Massachusetts regiment through Baltimore to the
- surrender at Appomattox, are among the best that we can remember to
- have read.”
-
-=JED. A boy’s adventures in the army.= (28th Thousand) Illustrated, 402
-pages. 12mo. Cloth.
-
- “_The Boston Beacon_” among other complimentary remarks about this
- book says: “Of all the many stories of the Civil War that have been
- published--and their name is legion--it is not possible to mention
- one which for sturdy realism, intensity of interest, and range of
- narrative, can compare with Jed.”
-
-=A LIFE OF GRANT FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.= Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth.
-
- “_The Christian Advocate_” (_Cincinnati_) says of it: “One of the
- best lives of U. S. Grant that we have seen--clear, circumstantial,
- but without undue and fulsome praise. The chapters telling of the
- clouds of misfortune and suffering over the close of his life are
- pathetic in the extreme.”
-
-=THE BOY’S LIFE OF GENERAL SHERIDAN.= Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth.
-
- The “_Living Church_” (_Milwaukee_) says of it: “The story of the
- dashing officer in his war career and also afterwards--in his
- campaigns among the Indians, form a thrilling story of American
- leadership. The book contains a thorough review in thrilling language
- of the various campaigns in which Sheridan made his mark.”
-
-Order from your bookseller. Send for Catalogue.
-
-THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY, NEW YORK
-
- * * * * *
-
-[Illustration: _Frontis._ “I GRIPPED MY NERVE AND SHUT MY TEETH. COULD
-I REACH A PLACE OF SAFETY?”--Page 111.]
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
-JED’S BOY
-
-
- A STORY OF ADVENTURES IN
- THE GREAT WORLD WAR
-
- BY
- WARREN LEE GOSS
-
- AUTHOR OF “JED,” “JACK ALDEN,” “TOM CLIFTON,” ETC.
-
- _ILLUSTRATED_
-
- NEW YORK
- THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY
- PUBLISHERS
-
- * * * * *
-
-COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY
-
-THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY
-
- * * * * *
-
- DEDICATED
- TO THE SOLDIERS AND SAILORS
- OF THE GREAT WORLD WAR
-
-
-
-
-PREFACE
-
-
-During the progress of the Great War, the writer has been often
-requested by his boy friends and others, both by letter and verbally,
-to write a book like “Jed” (“A Boy’s Adventures in the Army, ’61-’65”)
-depicting the scenes of this later war. Some of them have even
-suggested that he recreate some of the characters therein. To do this,
-of course, was a logical impossibility, since those not killed in that
-story would be too old for military service. Prompted, however, by
-that demand, he has taken a nephew of Jed as the hero of this story.
-Incited by his mother’s patriotism, and her recital of her brother
-Jed’s heroism, he enlists and serves his country on the battlefields of
-France.
-
-The author’s main purpose in writing this book, as with his other
-books, is to stimulate a true spirit of Americanism. Patriotism thrives
-best where it is best nourished, and is not a plant of accidental
-growth. The Posts of the Grand Army of the Republic through their
-exercises on Memorial and other patriotic days, and their teachings of
-patriotism in the public schools, have been springs of liberty flowing
-throughout the land nourishing a love of country in our youth. That all
-this has borne fruit is shown by the spirit in which the boys of to-day
-have sprung to the defence of human liberty in the great conflict of
-their own time.
-
-We have been privileged to see the last shreds of hatred left over from
-our Civil War burned away in a fervor of patriotism, that has sent the
-sons of the Gray shoulder to shoulder with the sons of the Blue to the
-defence of liberty on the fields of France and Belgium.
-
-If the writer has made clear that the young manhood of America has the
-same spirit to-day as had their fathers, in our great conflict of the
-sixties, and as had the Nathan Hales of the Revolution, he will have
-satisfied his own aspirations.
-
-W. L. G.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
- CHAPTER PAGE
-
- I. THE TRAMP BOY 1
-
- II. WORKING ON THE FARM 9
-
- III. IMPENDING WAR CLOUDS 15
-
- IV. WITH THE COLORS 22
-
- V. FROM CAMP TO TRANSPORT 31
-
- VI. IN BEAUTIFUL FRANCE 43
-
- VII. IN THE TRENCHES 53
-
- VIII. “WHO COMES THERE?” 64
-
- IX. A CALL RETURNED 73
-
- X. IN REST BILLET 83
-
- XI. A SIX WEEKS’ HIKE THROUGH FRANCE 91
-
- XII. ON THE BATTLE LINES 99
-
- XIII. IN THE TIDE OF BATTLE 106
-
- XIV. THE CROIX DE GUERRE 114
-
- XV. ON LEAVE OF ABSENCE 120
-
- XVI. A STRANGE DESERTION 128
-
- XVII. ANOTHER DESERTER 136
-
- XVIII. A RAID ON THE ENEMY 143
-
- XIX. THE GERMAN PEACE STORM 151
-
- XX. AN ADVENTURE OF ARMS 161
-
- XXI. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY 169
-
- XXII. HELD BY THE ENEMY 176
-
- XXIII. A HAZARD OF FORTUNE 183
-
- XXIV. LOOSE AMONG THE BOCHES 190
-
- XXV. AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER 198
-
- XXVI. A HOSPITAL CASE 208
-
- XXVII. THE MIX-UP OF BATTLE 217
-
- XXVIII. A MYSTERY SOLVED 224
-
- XXIX. THE SUPREME SACRIFICE 230
-
- * * * * *
-
-JED’S BOY
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I THE TRAMP BOY
-
-
-It was November, in the year 1914. The snow had come with the gloom of
-twilight, and an angry wind whistled over the Western Massachusetts
-hills.
-
-I was then a lad, trying to fill his father’s place on the farm. I had
-just finished milking when I heard Bill Jenkins, our hired man, call
-out in rasping tones, “No, there’s no work for you here, I tell you!”
-
-Turning, I saw at the barnyard gate the person to whom Bill had spoken.
-He was a tall slim boy apparently near my own age, fourteen.
-
-“What is it, Bill?” I said; “what does he want?”
-
-“You run along with your milkin’ pail,” said Bill. “I’ll ’tend to him.
-You don’t know nothin’ ’bout dealin’ with tramps.”
-
-I repeated my question, and the boy answered, “I am looking for work.”
-
-“An’ I told you there’s no work here for you,” said Bill roughly. “An’
-if you can’t understand such plain words as them air, you’ll have to
-get a dictionary.”
-
-“Can’t I stay here over night?” persisted the boy. “I can pay for my
-lodging. It’s getting dark, and these parts are strange to me.”
-
-There was something in the high-pitched voice that told me the lad
-was weak as well as cold, and the trembling tones appealed to me more
-strongly than the request itself. There was, too, a peculiar accent in
-them that excited my curiosity. So before Bill could again interfere I
-answered,
-
-“Yes, you can stay; and if there is no other bed, you can sleep with
-me. I am sure mother will be willing.”
-
-“You are soft and foolish. You don’t understand folks that go traipsing
-’round the country,” growled Bill. But ignoring his protests I led the
-way to the house, with the strange boy following.
-
-When we reached the kitchen and the lights were brought, Bill, with a
-surly air, carried the pail to the milk room. Mother coming in saw the
-boy and asked, “Who is this, David?”
-
-“A boy who wants to stay all night, Mother,” I replied, “and I have
-invited him to sleep with me. Can he?”
-
-“What’s your name?” asked mother, turning to the boy and looking him
-over with an inquiring glance that meant more than words.
-
-“Jonathan Nickerson--they call me Jot for short. That is not my whole
-name, only a part of it. My father is ’way off, I don’t know just
-where, and my mother is dead; I couldn’t agree with the folks she has
-been staying with, so I must find work or go hungry.” As he spoke of
-his mother, his voice grew husky as though he were keeping back the
-tears.
-
-There was a straightforwardness in his answer that pleased mother,
-as I knew it would, for she liked direct answers to questions. This
-may account for her keeping Bill Jenkins in her service most of the
-time since the Civil War, where he had served as a drummer for three
-months. He had appeared at her father’s door, ragged and disgusted with
-military life, after the battle of Bull Run, from which he had beaten
-his way with some of the rest of those who had got back to Washington.
-
-Mother looked at the boy keenly from over her spectacles, but made no
-remarks, while I summed him up, as follows: He was very dark, thin in
-feature and in person, his eyes dark and bright, chin prominent; and
-notwithstanding thin-patched clothes and apparent weakness, there was a
-manner of independence and decision that cannot be expressed in words.
-
-“Come here, Mother!” I said, turning to another room.
-
-“What do you want now?” asked mother.
-
-“Don’t turn him away in the cold and dark,” I pleaded. “Suppose I had
-no place to sleep tonight, out in the wind and snow.”
-
-“He looks clean, if he is patched and darned, and seems a decent boy,”
-she said in an undertone, as though thinking aloud, and then added,
-“Yes, David, he can sleep in the ell bedroom. It is cold there, but
-there are plenty of good comforters, and I guess he can put up with it,
-if we can; and as our Master said, ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it to the
-least--’” and she left the quotation unended.
-
-Supper was ready, and mother said to the boy, “Yes, you can stay here
-tonight, and if you have not had your supper, sit up to the table with
-us.”
-
-“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied sturdily, “but I have no money to pay
-for my supper--only enough to pay for my lodging--only twenty five
-cents at that.
-
-“I did not say anything about pay,” said mother; “you are welcome to
-your supper.”
-
-“Mother told me never to take anything without paying in some way for
-it,” he protested; “and I am not very hungry.”
-
-Mother gave him another searching look, as if to learn whether there
-was any purpose back of his words, and then as though satisfied, said
-with softening voice, “Never mind about that, my boy; if you are not
-afraid of work, you may pay for your supper and breakfast too. There is
-plenty to do here.”
-
-When he asked for a place to wash, and had gone to the kitchen sink for
-that purpose, mother remarked, “The pail is empty and the pump doesn’t
-work; so you must go to the well for some water.”
-
-When supper was ended, Jonathan asked, “May I try to fix your pump,
-m’am?”
-
-Mother hesitated, glanced at Bill, and then replied with a smile, “Yes,
-you may try. At any rate you can’t make it any worse than it has been,
-since Bill fussed with it.”
-
-Jonathan went to work with his jackknife and such tools as were at
-hand. He had not more than started, however, when Bill came in with an
-armful of wood for the kitchen stove. Stopping at the pump he said in
-his dictatorial tones, “You can’t do nothin’ with that pump! I’ve tried
-it, an’ I tell you it’s past mending by any botch or boy. An’ I tell
-Miss Stark it will be cheaper to buy a new one, by gosh! For I put in a
-half a day tryin’ to fix it.”
-
-Jonathan, without reply, kept on with his mending and, to our surprise,
-after half an hour had the pump working.
-
-“Where did you learn to fix pumps?” mother inquired in a pleased manner.
-
-“Our pump got out of order once, and the man who fixed it explained its
-working to me, and I have learned about them otherwise since.”
-
-“That pump,” said the disgruntled Bill, “will be out of order again as
-quick as scat, or I miss my guess.”
-
-“You see,” said Jot, ignoring Bill, “that piece of leather is a valve
-and must fit quite tight. When the air is pumped out, the water comes
-up to fill the partial vacuum. All I have done is to limber and adjust
-the valve so that it fits tighter.”
-
-“My!” said mother trying the pump, “it works quite well, and it does
-not matter where you learned it; you have earned your supper and
-breakfast too, for we would have had to send to Chester for a man to
-repair it, besides the inconvenience of waiting.”
-
-The next morning mother asked Jot what pay he would want to do the
-chores and other light work about the place. “I will work a month,” he
-replied, “and you shall say how much I am worth.”
-
-The answer pleased mother since it seemed to insure faithful service.
-
-Thus it was that Jonathan Nickerson came to work on the Stark farm.
-
-My father, Captain David Stark, had been a soldier in the Civil War. He
-had enlisted when only sixteen years of age and, by military aptitude
-and bravery, had won a captain’s commission, before he was twenty-one.
-
-Over the mantel of our front room, secluded from light and flies except
-when we had company, hung a sword which had been presented to him, so
-its inscription read, by his admiring officers and men.
-
-He had married my mother some years younger than he, quite late in
-life, and I was their only child. He had died before I remembered much
-about him.
-
-One day Jot noticed the sword and read its inscription. He removed his
-hat reverently and said: “I would like to be a brave soldier like him.
-My mother’s only brother, Lieutenant Jedediah Hoskins, was killed while
-leading a charge, just before the surrender at Appomattox. She was but
-a little child when that occurred, but she had his back pay and other
-property to help us, and often called me Jed’s Boy, hoping that I would
-be like him.”
-
-Jonathan, or Jot as we began to call him, was careful and handy; he
-repaired locks, and even put in running order a disregarded mowing
-machine that Bill, who didn’t like “new fangled farming,” declared was
-good for nothing. We soon began to regard him as one of the family, and
-mother liked him because, as she said, he was both honest and careful
-and “had not a lazy bone in his body.”
-
-Bill usually read the weekly newspaper in the evening, sometimes
-commenting aloud on what he read. One evening while reading he looked
-up exclaiming, “Gosh!”
-
-“What is it, Bill,” I asked, “anybody dead?”
-
-“Matter! The Germans are marching on Paris”, he answered, “and there
-has been the all-firedest fightin’ you ever heard tell of.” Then Bill
-read aloud the news of the first fighting in the Great World War.
-
-“I believe,” he concluded excitedly, “that I shall have to go myself
-and help lick them consarned Dutch.”
-
-“I wouldn’t,” said mother with a gleam of fun in her eyes, for she
-liked to tease Bill, “You might wear yourself out, as you did at Bull
-Run, scampering back.”
-
-“Well,” acknowledged Bill with a grimace, “I am getting old, and I like
-farmin’ a consarned sight better than I do fightin’; but when I read
-’bout them Germans tryin’ to run over everybody, it makes my dander
-rise, darned if it don’t!” And Bill was not the only one of us who felt
-that way.
-
-Then we got Bill to tell us about his experience in the Bull Run
-campaign. So he gave his version of that battle--even the running away,
-which, however does not concern this narrative.
-
-“Didn’t you think it a shame,” asked mother, “to run away?”
-
-“Well,” admitted Bill, “as a matter of glory it was, but as we fightin’
-fellers see it then, it looked like common sense, plagued if it didn’t!
-A man will get sca’t at things he ain’t used to. Them fellers that run
-wouldn’t do it again--if the other fellers didn’t. I wouldn’t wonder if
-I would stand to the rack an’ take the fodder that was coming, myself,
-if I was in another fight. And then my time was most eout, and I was
-all the time thinkin’ ’twas best to go home on my legs instead of in a
-box, when my time was up.”
-
-“Were you scared, Bill?” I asked.
-
-“Gosh, yes! the fust of it, my hair stood up so straight that I thought
-it would take my hat off. But I had spunk to stand it, in spite of
-being sca’t--’till the others run. D’ yo’ know that I think it takes
-more courage f’r a sca’t man to stand fire, than it does for a brave
-man.”
-
-And I have since learned, from experience, that it is indeed a brave
-man who, being frightened, still keeps his place in battle.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II WORKING ON THE FARM
-
-
-The winter school had closed, and my spring work on the farm had begun.
-Boys of my age in New England, at least farmer boys, did not, as a
-rule, attend school in summer: it was thought that winter schooling
-was enough. My mother, however, intended for me to graduate in the
-high school later. Like most New England people, mother believed in
-the potency of work as a needful part of a boy’s or girl’s education.
-Work, she declared never hurt any one; while laziness and the feeling
-that one is too good to work were the foundation of shiftlessness and
-poverty. People must fight for anything worth having, and farming is a
-fight with the soil to make it yield a living.
-
-“Your father,” she would say, “was a farmer and a good one; he believed
-as religiously in fighting the soil and keeping down the weeds, as he
-believed in fighting the Confederates and putting down the Rebellion.
-If you expect this farm to be yours, and to pay off the mortgage on
-it,” she would add, “you have got to learn about the work, or the rocks
-and weeds will get the best of you, and it will be of no use when you
-get it. You will be selling it, and spending the money, and become a
-shack of a man like some others who think they are too good to work.”
-
-“But you have succeeded in working the farm,” I argued, “without
-knowing the work practically.”
-
-“Yes,” she admitted, “but I was brought up on this farm and have
-learned what it will best raise. I know the business part; but if I
-understood the farm better I wouldn’t have to stand Bill Jenkins’
-dictation, when he wants to have his way instead of mine.”
-
-“What makes you keep him,” I asked; “he growls about what you ought to
-do, instead of taking your orders and obeying them.”
-
-“He is faithful,” she replied, “and is to be trusted. If you can’t
-trust a man, he is of no use to you anywhere.”
-
-Although Jot had now been with us long enough to receive several
-months’ pay, he still wore the same suit of clothes as when he came to
-the Stark farm. I afterward learned it was because he had been paying
-for his mother’s sickness and funeral. He was still reticent about his
-father, and would give no account of himself, except a general one. He
-talked, however, quite freely about his mother, and about his uncle
-Jed, and was intensely patriotic.
-
-“I would like to fight for this country, as my uncle did,” he would
-sometimes say, “if I should ever be needed.”
-
-We continued to read the news of the war as it came across the sea.
-Our hearts were thrilled at even the meagre recital given in our
-weekly paper, of that great adventure of arms, when like a lion the
-great French general with his brave army, stood in the path of German
-invasion and said, “They shall not pass!”
-
-On the farm, meanwhile, Jot had been proving the correctness of
-mother’s judgment that he would be worth more than his keep. Among
-other traits brought out by acquaintance was one striking one. He was
-passionately fond of animals, and had a control over them that was
-seemingly the result of sympathy. In mowing time, when I would be tired
-enough to be resting, he would often be playing with our two year old
-colt, Jack; and he seldom came into the pasture without an apple or
-some dainty for him. The colt was of Hambletonian stock, high spirited,
-and when with Jot full of play.
-
-One day, after we had been mowing hay, mother said, “Bill, there is a
-shower coming up, and you had better give the boys a little rest.”
-
-“Well, Miss Stark, I guess it will be a good plan, while we are
-loafing, to give Jack a little training. He’s about the hardest scamp
-of a colt I ever see.”
-
-But as Bill in his former attempts to train Jack had lost his temper
-and struck and kicked him, he found it hard to catch him.
-
-“Let me try to catch him for you, Mr. Jenkins,” said Jot.
-
-“What do you know about colts?” said Bill crossly.
-
-“I got acquainted with him down in the pasture, and will try and catch
-him for you, if you are willing.”
-
-Jot’s respectful manner mollified Bill and he assented, saying:
-
-“Well, go ahead with your sleight of hand with the critter; but I can
-tell you, he is awful skeetish.”
-
-Jot called the colt to him in coaxing tones, holding out his hand with
-a lump of sugar, and Jack came circling around him with flowing mane
-and streaming tail; dropping his tail, snuffed at Jot’s hand, let him
-take hold of his fetterlock and, yielding to his caresses, allowed him
-to slip the bridle over his head and to be led around.
-
-But when Bill attempted to take the colt in charge, he couldn’t manage
-him.
-
-“Bill,” said mother, “Jonathan seems to understand him; hadn’t you
-better let him try to break him; for I am afraid you’ll spoil him; so
-please let him try.”
-
-After he had led Jack around the yard for a while, Jot said to mother,
-“I think that will do for this time, Mrs. Stark.” And then, with a
-little more petting and another lump of sugar, sent the colt scampering
-away.
-
-“My!” said mother, “I didn’t think you could do it.”
-
-In one of our visits to Chester we acquired a dog, or more truthfully,
-a dog acquired us.
-
-We had no dog on the place; for Bill hated dogs; said they killed
-sheep, and had fleas, and declared, with some truth, that if a dog
-didn’t kill sheep, he attracted those who did. But on this day as we
-were coming from a store where we had been making purchases, a dog with
-tin things tied to his tail came _ki-yi-ing_ piteously from a near-by
-shed where some rowdy boys were congregated.
-
-Jot coaxed the dog to him, got him in his arms, took off the tin cans
-that had been pinched to his tail, and holding the creature in his
-arms, said to the boys: “Who owns this dog?”
-
-“No one owns him,” one of them answered; “he’s been hanging around here
-for quite a while.”
-
-We took the frightened creature to the wagon and, when half a mile
-away, put him down to shift for himself. The dog would not be deserted
-by his new-found friends, but followed the team and, at every attempt
-to drive him away, would roll over on his back and implore in doggish
-fashion, to go with us. So at last, when we arrived at home, the dog
-was with us.
-
-Bill, of course, strenuously objected to having the dog on the place;
-but after much pleading I got mother to allow us to keep him, though
-she also did not like dogs.
-
-“I won’t have him underfoot,” she declared, “so you must keep him away
-from the house--out at the barn;” to which we agreed.
-
-We were delighted, for what boy does not love a dog?
-
-Jot taught him several cunning tricks, among other things, to bring
-home the cows at milking time. Because of his color we called him
-“Muddy.”
-
-I have told these simple things not alone to reveal Jonathan’s
-compassionate nature, but because they were not without influence in
-scenes of greater importance, in our later lives, as you shall see.
-
-Jot worked faithfully on the farm, and with its healthy food and work,
-had grown to be a strong though slight young man. He had attended
-school several winters, learning rapidly.
-
-Meanwhile the war was claiming more and more of our attention, and we
-read about it with such interest that we had begun taking a daily
-newspaper. When the news came of the sinking of the great passenger
-ship, the _Lusitania_, with its hundreds of passengers, it seemed too
-dreadful to believe. Though public indignation was at white heat over
-this cruel deed, it was soon toned to soberness by thoughts of our own
-possible war with this relentless military power.
-
-Soon after the sinking of the _Lusitania_, a great personal sorrow
-befell me in the loss of my mother. She passed away after only a few
-days’ illness of heart failure. After her burial in the Stark private
-burial plot, my Aunt Joe and her husband came to take charge of the
-farm. Jonathan continued to work with us, but Bill left to work
-elsewhere; for he declared he wouldn’t stand bossing from any one.
-
-The farm did not seem like home to me after mother’s death, and I fell
-into such melancholy at times, that Aunt Joe gave me what she called a
-good talking to, saying, “I guess your mother is glad to have her boy
-care for her; but it is just as natural to die, as it is to be born,
-and it don’t do a speck of good to be blue when we lose our friends.”
-
-To illustrate her philosophy, she then sat down and had a good cry with
-me.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III IMPENDING WAR CLOUDS
-
-
-It was October, 1916. The harvests were gathered, and the fall
-ploughing was done; the frost was in the ground, and the hills were
-ablaze with the scarlet and gold of Autumn.
-
-I was debating with Jot whether I would attend school or not, that
-winter.
-
-“Of course,” answered Jot, “you will go to school just as if your
-mother were here to tell you to go.”
-
-To this good advice Uncle Jim assented by a decided nod of approval.
-Now Uncle Jim, I had discovered, had a will of his own and very decided
-opinions. As Aunt Joe said, “though mild as skim milk in his ways, he
-is as sot as a rock.” And knowing this I thought it best to do as I was
-advised.
-
-I began my studies at once when the winter term opened, but was
-discontented, and did not take so much interest in them as usual. When
-I brought my books home to study, Jot read them eagerly, and asked me
-many questions about the lessons. I think I learned more in trying to
-answer his questions than I did by the study of them in the books;
-for there is a difference between committing a lesson to memory, and
-giving a sensible answer to questions to one in earnest to know about
-them--for one is an act of memory, but the other requires thought and
-reasoning.
-
-Our interest in the war was growing in intensity day by day. Our
-neighbors often came in of an evening to hear the news and discuss the
-war, and among them there was a Mr. Larkin, who was a pacifist. He
-was well informed and well read, for a farmer, and though in the main
-patriotic had as Uncle Jim said, “a pacifist crook in his mind that
-needed straightening.”
-
-At one of the evening gatherings, after we had dwelt upon the
-relentless cruelty of the German army in dealing with Belgium and
-France, Larkin said:
-
-“They had better stop this war at once; for war is so dreadful that it
-should not have a place in any Christian country.”
-
-“Well,” said Uncle Jim, in his slow and drawling tones, “I don’t much
-admire war, but if any darned crowd should break into this house and
-begin smashin’ things and threaten to kill the folks, am I a goin’ to
-sit here like an idiot and see ’em do it without liftin’ my hand to
-stop it? No, sir! I am goin’ to stop such works if I break their necks.”
-
-“But don’t the Master say that we should return good for evil?” replied
-Mr. Larkin, “and when smitten on the right cheek that we should turn
-the left?”
-
-“Well,” replied Uncle Jim slowly, “I suppose he did say so; an’ I
-suppose if the majority of folks would do so, it would be better. But
-it seems to me that I have read somethin’ about the Master’s getting
-riled at some wretches that had turned the Temple into a sort of
-pawnbroker’s shop, and then drivin’ them out with horse whips, because
-they had made it a den of thieves. Now what do you suppose he would
-have done, if he had been in Belgium, and had seen them Germans setting
-fire to churches, and killin’ women and children?”
-
-“That,” said Mr. Larkin, “only proves my assertion, that everybody
-should set themselves against war; you speak, as though to keep the
-peace with all your power, was degrading.”
-
-“No, no,” said uncle; “you misunderstand me. What I mean is, that when
-a bully hits you, you must hit him back so hard that he will never want
-to hit you again. To do the contrary would be to encourage him. Such
-folks would soon rule the world, if you did not make them take a back
-seat.”
-
-After Germany had violated her agreement with the United States not
-to sink any more of our ships sailing the ocean on peaceful missions,
-our President declared war, to “make the world safe for democracy.”
-Then came the first call for volunteers, to fill up the ranks of the
-National army. Men were quiet, but determined, in supporting the
-President, and a deep undercurrent of war spirit prevailed in our
-little community.
-
-I had the war fever mighty bad. But uncle said: “Wait awhile an’ see
-how that cat is a goin’ to jump--for ’taint best to be in a hurry about
-important matters.”
-
-There were some who differed about the wisdom of declaring war, and, of
-course, our neighbor Larkin was among them.
-
-“Don’t you think,” he said to Uncle Jim, “that it would have been
-better if our President had not been so hasty?”
-
-“No,” replied uncle decidedly, “I think that, instead of trying to keep
-us out so hard, if we had ridged up our backs in the fust place, and
-had begun to get a big army together, Germany would never have dared
-to provoke us to war. We have a right to sail the seas wherever we
-choose, on peaceful business--that was decided in the war of 1812--an’
-no nation on earth has a right to say we shan’t.”
-
-During all this talk and excitement Jot was mostly silent with a
-constraint that I did not understand--though I had full faith in his
-patriotism. At one time, before the declaration of war, it had been
-proposed by my cousin Will Edwards that they should go to Canada and
-enlist. But Jot had gravely replied: “I should like to fight under the
-flag of this free nation, if she should ever need me; as my Uncle Jed
-did in the Civil War.”
-
-There was something, even in this remark, of reticence, as though there
-were other ties that bound him of which he was inclined to make no
-mention.
-
-Soon after the declaration of war, a horse trader accompanied by Bill
-Jenkins, and another man, came to the Stark farm to bargain for horses.
-The prices they were willing to pay seemed large, and uncle sold one of
-our extra horses. Then Bill said, “Why don’t you sell the colt, Jack?
-He won’t be good for much for quite a while, an’ I guess you’ll need
-the money before long on this place.”
-
-I did not like the freedom of Bill’s remark and neither did I wish the
-colt sold. “Well,” said the trader, “it will be no harm to look him
-over.” So we went down to the pasture where Jack had been let loose for
-his spring feed.
-
-Our colt was now full grown and broken to saddle, but not to harness.
-Muddy, the dog, and Jack were great friends. The dog slept in the same
-stall with the colt and they often frolicked together in the pasture.
-When we reached the pasture the colt and dog were on a frolic--the
-colt jumping and wheeling and prancing, while Muddy jumped, barked and
-capered in front of him.
-
-Turning to my uncle the trader said: “I will give you two hundred
-dollars for that colt. He isn’t worth it; but I know just where I can
-sell him.”
-
-My uncle refused to sell, and the man handing uncle his business card,
-said: “Well, when you get ready to sell, let me know.”
-
-After he had started away I turned to speak to Jot, but found he had
-disappeared. Later I came upon him behind the barn talking to the man
-who had accompanied the horse trader, and I overheard him using some
-words strange to me--seemingly in some foreign language--at any rate
-not common English. As I came upon them they parted, and when I asked
-Jot what they were talking about he made no definite reply, but said,
-“I am so glad they didn’t sell Jack.”
-
-His evasion made me angry, and I turned away to go to the house. Jot
-called after me, but I refused to speak or turn back; and that night we
-went to bed without a good-night greeting as was usual with us.
-
-The first thing, after I awoke, I went to Jot’s room, but he was gone.
-Then I went down to breakfast, expecting to find him at the table; but
-he was not there.
-
-“Where is Jot?” I asked Uncle Jim.
-
-With provoking deliberation he removed his pipe from his lips saying
-“Gone.”
-
-“Where has he gone?” I asked impatiently.
-
-“Don’t know--suspect he has gone to enlist--said something about it.”
-And that was all I could learn--though I half suspected that uncle was
-keeping something back,--something he didn’t think it good for me to
-know.
-
-After this I became more dissatisfied than ever, but still continued my
-work on the farm, expecting to have a letter from Jot. But no tidings
-of him came.
-
-I constantly pestered Uncle Jim, who was made my guardian, to let me
-enlist. But he put me off by saying: “Time enough--wait awhile.”
-
-Later on, uncle said to me, “I guess we shall have to sell Jack after
-all; I have been offered a good price for him by Colonel Walker. The
-interest on the mortgage is coming due this month, and I am a little
-short of money.”
-
-So Jack was sold, and that made me still more discontented, and not
-long after I “broke out,” as Aunt Joe called it, by saying, “Uncle, I
-want to enlist. If I don’t enlist they will, like as not, draft me.
-Just think of a Stark being drafted! I am bigger than Jot, and just as
-good for a soldier. They will take me, and I am lonesome without Jot.”
-
-Uncle Jim had finished his breakfast, pushed back from the table, and
-began smoking his pipe as was his custom after the morning meal.
-
-I knew by his long deliberate puffs that he was thinking it over. Then
-with shorter puffs, he finished his smoke and I knew he had reached a
-decision.
-
-“What d’ye think, Josephine? David won’t be good for anything at school
-or on the farm now; and it is natural for the Starks to want to serve
-their country when there is a war on hand. Like’s not, if we don’t give
-our consent he will go without it, and that would be worse for him and
-us too. What do you think?”
-
-“But, Jim,” said my aunt dolefully, “We are in Sister Emily’s place.
-Would she consent if she were here?”
-
-I felt that I had won over Uncle Jim, for when he said, “Well,
-Josephine, we will talk it over,” I knew that his mind was made up.
-
-So the next morning at breakfast--uncle slowly and deliberately said,
-“Your aunt and I have been considering about giving our consent to
-your enlistment.” And then, after a long pause, “If you are still of
-the same mind, you may go. I understand that there will be a draft
-here--and you might have to go finally anyway--an’ to be _made_ to do
-a thing isn’t pleasant, as you say, for a Stark.” So it was settled. I
-was to go.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV WITH THE COLORS
-
-
-A few weeks later I had enlisted in the Infantry and, with other
-recruits, among whom was Sam Jenkins, arrived at one of the training
-camps.
-
-Its size astonished me. It was a city of barracks. Broad streets
-designated by letters, with each barrack numbered, stretched out in
-endless succession, covering hundreds of acres and miles in length and
-breadth.
-
-On being assigned to barracks, we drew our “property,” including
-uniform, blankets, sweaters, and other equipments, usually issued to a
-“rookie,” besides a rifle and its belongings.
-
-I had supposed that the life of a soldier in camp was one of
-comparative leisure, but there is where I made a mistake--a delusion
-common to the uninitiated. Our duties, or work, seemed unending. There
-was a rule to fit every hour of the day.
-
-Reveille calls the rookie out of bed. Then after putting on his uniform
-he takes a position near the line and, at the first sergeant’s command
-of “Fall in” takes his place and assumes the first position of a
-soldier--which means, heels on the same line, toes turning outward,
-chest out, body thrown forward, thumbs at the seams of his trousers,
-legs straight, but not stiff, and the weight of the body resting
-lightly upon the soles of his feet.
-
-After reveille, he makes his bed, puts everything in order, then washes
-for breakfast, or as it is called “Mess,” after which he puts his
-equipments in order for drill. His rifle belts and uniform must be neat
-and clean as possible, or he gets a reprimand. Then comes “sick call”;
-then “drill call”; at which call he is expected to put everything in
-exact order in his quarters, then take his place in ranks for two
-hours’ drill.
-
-Then comes another “Mess” call, which means fall in for dinner. After
-dinner there is a short rest, then comes drill call again, after which
-there is another short rest, during which he is expected to bathe,
-shave, and make himself neat, and ready for retreat--which is the dress
-occasion of the day. The next call is “Taps” when lights must be out.
-
-This is, however, but simply an outline of the routine that one must
-follow during each day.
-
-I, however, liked the military drill and, as Sam declared, learned it
-as though it was something that I was made for. But there were many
-petty exactions, which looked to me, as it doubtless has to every
-other raw soldier since the beginning, needlessly fussy; and the drill
-sergeant was exasperating. But there is a difference in men. Some, when
-invested with brief authority, have always been bullies.
-
-But it was when I went on my first “hike” with full pack, that I
-thought I was killed. If there has ever been an invention, since the
-beginning of soldiering, that has made a soldier boy regret his wealth
-of possessions, it is this first regular “hike.”
-
-It was a beautiful day in July when I fell into line with others, some
-seasoned vessels of war--but mostly not. I had admired the pack while I
-was learning the minutiæ of making one, for it certainly is a wonderful
-invention, and the first half mile I kept up a martial air, with my
-sweat-provoking and back-aching pack galling me. Then I began to want
-a rest--and didn’t get it! The sweat ran down my face and saturated
-me with a sticky moisture. I fully agreed with Sam when he said, in
-undertone, “Isn’t it a grunter?” I certainly never knew the sweetest
-word in English until, at last, came the order, “Halt!” When I got
-through that “practice march,” I recognized that carrying a nine-pound
-rifle on my shoulder, and a heavy pack--however admirable the
-invention--was not amusing.
-
-It was, however, not many weeks before my sturdy farmer-boy shoulders
-became more accustomed to the pack. Poor Sam, however, who was short
-and fat, for a long time persisted in his first opinion, that it was a
-“grunter”! He said he had heard Civil War soldiers tell of throwing
-away their blankets and overcoats on a march and now understood the
-reason of it!
-
-Some weeks later, when I had learned the drill, and had even been
-complimented by a non-commissioned superior who declared that I took to
-soldiering “like a duck to water,” I thought there might be something
-in inherited qualities.
-
-One thing, common to all new soldiers, was that I suddenly found
-myself unexpectedly fond of home, and couldn’t hear from the folks
-often enough. Home never seemed to my mind quite so lovely, as now that
-I was away from it. I was, as may be inferred, not a little homesick.
-
-I have forgotten to say, in its proper place, that Muddy had
-accompanied me from home to camp, and was hailed by my comrades as
-a companion worthy of the khaki with which nature had clothed him.
-He was soon adopted as the Company Mascot; and to a homesick boy his
-companionship cannot be over-estimated.
-
-On coming to the Cantonment I had endeavored, from the first, to find
-Jot; but not a thing could I learn about him. To find any one in this
-big city was, as Sam said, “like looking for a collar button in a
-pasture.” It was more difficult to find a person in this great city of
-barracks perhaps, than in an ordinary city, because of the uniformity
-of its buildings and the sameness of its uniforms.
-
-One day I had left Muddy in charge of the mess sergeant and had gone
-to the Y. M. C. A. to write to Uncle Jim and Aunt Joe, when the door
-opened, and Muddy, like a whirlwind of hair and tail, came yelping and
-jumping upon me.
-
-I looked up to scold him, for dogs were not allowed there, when “Jot”
-stood smiling down upon me. He threw his arms around me with a big hug,
-and slap on the back, which I returned with interest, notwithstanding
-my cool New England habit of reserve.
-
-During all this time, Muddy had been yelping and wagging both body and
-tail with doggish delight and approval, at having brought his friends
-together, until the superintendent reminded us of the rules.
-
-Then I inquired of Jot, “How did you find me?”
-
-“I didn’t find you,” he replied, “it was Muddy.”
-
-“Yes; but how did you find my barracks and company?”
-
-“It was Muddy, I tell you;” he said. “I was on my way to the
-quartermaster’s office, when I heard a yelping and he flew like a mad
-dog out of one of the barracks; and yelped and whined and dragging me
-by my trouser leg as much as to say, ‘Come this way!’ And I understood
-enough of his dog talk to know that you were somewhere around here. So
-I followed him.”
-
-It was not until we were on the way to the quartermaster’s that I
-noticed, that he wore the chevrons of a “Top Sergeant” (first sergeant)
-and learned that his quarters were only a short distance from mine.
-
-How it was that Muddy knew that Jot was in the street is one of the
-mysteries of the dog intellect--or instinct;--for the incident is true.
-
-Afterwards, I told Jot of the sale of Jack to Colonel Walker, and that
-I believed he was in the same encampment. But Jot said he had learned
-that he was in one of the more Southern camps--perhaps Camp Green, in
-North Carolina.
-
-“Why was it,” I queried, “that you did not tell Uncle Jim or me where
-you were going?”
-
-To this he replied, “Though your uncle did not tell me not to let you
-know that I was going to enlist, he intimated very plainly that he did
-not want you to know. He said, ‘If David knows where you have gone,
-there’ll be no living with him; and he will follow you as sure as you
-stand there.’” I was quite angry with uncle at first, but when Jot
-said, “I think he did what he thought was best,” I saw, in part, an
-excuse for him.
-
-Among other things that I learned, during my soldier experience,
-was one, that trouble is often brewing when we feel the safest. Now
-it was about to overtake me and my dog. I was showing off Muddy’s
-accomplishments one day to some dog admirers, when an officer came up
-and inquired: “Whose dog is that?”
-
-“He is mine!” I proudly replied, “isn’t he a dandy, Mister?”
-
-“You must address officers by their title, he said stiffly, and salute
-them.”
-
-I had been so engaged, that I had not observed before, that he was an
-officer. I at once stood at attention and saluted.
-
-He glanced at me seemingly through and through and then, as though
-satisfied, said, returning the salute,
-
-“About that dog--just keep him out of sight and there will be no
-trouble;” and then as Muddy came fawning on him, patted him and passed
-on.
-
-“That,” said one of the men, “is a West Pointer. He is as full of rules
-and orders as a book on tactics.”
-
-“I guess he likes a dog, himself,” said Sergeant Bill, “or he would
-have ordered you to put him out of camp; for he is one of them highbrow
-officers that live by rule. Them West Pointers are a bundle of rules
-and regulations and eat blue books and general orders and such things
-instead of grub.”
-
-It was shortly after the foregoing incident, that an order appeared in
-substance, as follows:
-
-“After the 10th inst. all dogs, not licensed, will not be allowed in
-barracks, squad rooms, or mess halls.”
-
-But as Muddy had a home license and wore a collar showing it, I was not
-concerned until, shortly after, there appeared the following:
-
-“After this date, all dogs, whether licensed or not, will be turned
-over to the camp police.” To which some wag had added, “and thereafter
-will be included among the missing.” This was thought to be “rough” on
-those who had adopted dogs as mascots, and there were several companies
-that had, but as the mess sergeant said: “What can we do about it?”
-
-I had been on guard at post one, in front of the commandant’s office,
-and in my distress, at the thought of losing my dog, determined on the
-hazardous expedient of interviewing the commandant, to get permission
-to keep Muddy.
-
-So, brushing up my uniform and looking my neatest, I went to the office
-of that dread personage.
-
-I passed the guard, got into the office, and when the commandant had
-turned from his desk where he was engaged in writing, I stood at
-attention and saluted. Then I saw that it was the same officer I have
-before mentioned as being a West Point man, but whom I did not know was
-the commandant.
-
-“State your errand briefly,” he said coldly.
-
-I was nervously stating my errand when in rushed Muddy, as though to
-argue his own case. I picked him up for fear of what further damage he
-might do, and as a matter of habit with me, held in my arms.
-
-“What is your name?” he inquired in a tone of severity that boded ill
-for my request.
-
-I told him, and, in answer to other questions following, said my father
-was an officer during the Civil War in a Massachusetts regiment. I saw
-his face change from severity to interest, as he said pleasantly,
-
-“Was your father Captain Stark of the --th Massachusetts?”
-
-“Yes, sir,” I replied. “Did you know him there?”
-
-“I am afraid not,” he replied, smiling for the first time; “but my
-father did,” and added, “They were friends.” After a pause he added, “I
-must grant this request to the son of my father’s friend.”
-
-I do not know whether this incident had anything to do with a promotion
-which I soon after received as corporal; but I am sure it did not
-hinder it. And I was prouder of that promotion than any that I ever
-received--unless a decoration received long after from the French can
-be called one.
-
-I found, however, that the duties of even this small office carried
-with it not a little responsibility.
-
-Possibly I magnify the office when I say that to be a good corporal, in
-charge of new men, required some rare qualities. He should be icy calm,
-have dignity like a judge and eyes like a gimlet, and good humor in
-profusion; or he won’t get much work out of his men. I was on a detail
-shortly after my promotion, hauling provisions for the Regimental Ware
-House, and I couldn’t turn my head without losing a man.
-
-When I told Jot about it he smiled and replied: “You did well not to
-send men after those you lost, or you would have lost more men.” And I
-knew by that remark, that he had once been a corporal.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V FROM CAMP TO TRANSPORT
-
-
-Shortly after the incidents narrated in the foregoing chapter, I, with
-several others, among them Jot and Sam, was granted a leave of absence
-of fifteen days to visit our homes. This, we believed, meant that we
-were soon to be sent to France where, from the first, we desired to be.
-
-When we reached the little village near our homes, we were curiously
-viewed by the people, who up to that time had seen little of the
-present day soldiers in khaki. We were hospitably treated by our
-people, and those who knew us gathered around to ask questions, as is
-the habit of New England folks.
-
-On our arrival home, it is needless to say, we were greeted with
-hearty enthusiasm. Neighbors flocked in to see us, and Aunt Josie
-expressed her interest and love, after the usual manner of New England
-self-contained matrons, by a big dinner. Even Muddy was treated with
-affection and, for the first time in his home experience, was not
-considered as being “under foot” and in the way.
-
-“How straight you are!” said Aunt Joe. “I declare I think you have
-grown an inch, and you were a big hulking fellow when you went away
-from here.” Six months of military discipline had certainly left its
-impress upon all of us. Jot had filled out in chest and shoulders and,
-though not so tall and “bulking” as I, as Aunt Joe called it, was a
-fine-looking soldierly youth, lithe and active. Even Sam’s rather
-rotund form, was reduced to soldierly proportions.
-
-“Gosh!” said his father anxiously, “you ain’t got any belly hardly at
-all. Hev’ they been starvin’ you?”
-
-“No, Dad, we have all we want to eat in camp, and we have the wust kind
-of appetite after one o’ them drills. I guess you don’t know what they
-do to a feller down here to take the fat off him and the kinks out of
-him?”
-
-“Yes, I do, Sam,” responded his father; “guess I’ve been trained a lot
-myself.”
-
-“Did y’ ever go through the settin’ up drill?” asked Sam.
-
-“Yes, Sam, I have set up nights a lot, but I never had to drill it. I
-got sort of used to it when I was courtin’.”
-
-“I guess, Dad, you don’t understand; now I will give the orders and
-drill you.” And then Sam put his father through enough of the physical
-exercise to show him what he meant and until Uncle Jim smiled to see
-him puff.
-
-The months of drill had certainly improved us physically. The
-difference between slouching country boys and soldierly youth, was
-written all over each of us.
-
-Muddy, too, had his receptions; and even Bill Jenkins who was again
-working on the farm, said: “Well, he’s a pretty good dog, and will do
-well enough now that he’s been trained.”
-
-My aunt was a proud woman when she took Jot and me to church with her,
-and introduced us to the new minister. The old church where my mother
-and father had worshipped was filled, and we were greeted on every
-side by friendly people, especially by the teachers and members of the
-Sunday School to which Jot and I had been constant attendants when at
-home.
-
-One of the young ladies of the class was Miss Emily Grant, of whom, in
-former times, I had been an ardent, though shy admirer. She introduced
-both Jot and me to a visiting friend, Miss Rose Rich, whom she had
-brought home with her from a Massachusetts boarding school.
-
-Jot, usually so reticent, showed his approval of her, by saying: “Isn’t
-she fine? Her father is a doctor and she is going to take up Red Cross
-work.”
-
-The friendliness of the two was observable to others besides myself.
-Miss Grant said to me, “Rose seems much taken with your friend.”
-
-“He is the smartest noncommissioned officer,” I replied, “in the
-training camp. He’s top sergeant, and that means something, I can tell
-you.”
-
-I told Uncle Jim about Colonel Burbank and what he said about my
-father. And Uncle Jim said, “Seems to me I heard your father mention
-him. I wonder if it was him that your father brought from between the
-lines badly wounded durin’ the Winchester fight? Shouldn’t wonder if it
-was.”
-
-But I had never heard about it.
-
-When Jot and I had visited, for the last time, the familiar scenes
-of the farm, and he had petted and talked to the horses and cows, we
-left our home for the camp again. A boy never realizes what a home
-means to him until he is leaving it, possibly forever; for I had a dim
-perception of what was possibly before me.
-
-Several friends, besides my aunt and uncle, were at the station to bid
-us good-bye. Among them were Emily Grant and Rose Rich.
-
-With the usual leave takings and waving of handkerchiefs from friends,
-the engine puffed, the train clanked out from the station, and we were
-off.
-
-Back at camp we entered upon another course of training in company,
-regimental and battalion drill, with bayonet exercises, machine-gun
-fire, and the digging of trenches, as a preliminary to participation in
-modern warfare.
-
-An old Civil War veteran, who had viewed our preparations, said to me,
-“If Grant had had these machine guns and other arms, he could have made
-the Rebs howl and ended the war in short order. Why, there is as great
-a difference between the equipments of this new army and our old Union
-Army as there is between a stage coach and an express train.”
-
-Jot had been transferred to our regiment, at his request, and became
-first sergeant of a company. At one of our meetings at the Y. M. C. A.
-he said to me, “Don’t say anything about it, but I think that we are
-likely to break camp soon and go to France.”
-
-“What makes you think so?” I asked.
-
-“Well,” he said, “they have been making shipping lists for the
-regiment; and then the furloughs they have been giving, and other
-little things make me think so.”
-
-I soon found that a rumor of the same purport was all around camp. Like
-most youngsters, I was hungry for a change; so when the top sergeant
-ordered us to be ready to move within a few hours, I was glad at the
-prospect of the change to some other place. Yet I thought of submarines
-and other scarey unpleasant possibilities, that night, before I slept.
-
-The order came at last--it was on Sunday--for an army has no days more
-sacred than duty. Though we were not supposed to know where we were
-going, we all guessed--the Yankee birthright--and guessed France. Our
-outfit consisted of two suits of _Olive Drab_, canvas leggins, two
-woolen shirts, woolen underwear and stockings, two pairs of garrison
-shoes, a Mackinaw short overcoat, a belt, three blankets, and a
-comforter, all of which were carried in our packs. On top of the pack
-roll was the haversack, containing our kits, which consisted of a
-long handled aluminum fold pan with removable cover, in which were a
-knife and fork and spoon; two oblong cases for meat, hard bread, sugar
-and coffee. The ammunition belt was hung to this pack, and a canteen
-nesting in the cup hung from it. There was also a barrack bag belonging
-to our outfits, but this was carried by motor truck to the station.
-
-This I remember to my sorrow, as did others in similar cases, for I
-did not see it again until our arrival in France, though it contained
-goodies from home, and chocolates. Others did not see their cigarettes
-and tobacco again until long after.
-
-At dark, with our packs strapped upon our backs, we moved to the
-station and were embarked on board of ordinary passenger cars--a
-noncommissioned officer at the doors of each car to see that none went
-out and that no one not belonging there went in. Each commissioned
-officer had a list that showed the place of each man and saw that he
-_stayed_ there.
-
-The next morning we found our train at a big New York terminal, and had
-our breakfast--of sandwiches and hot coffee that had been prepared for
-us the day before.
-
-From there we were embarked on a ferry boat. Our company was on the
-top deck where we could see the tugs, steamers and ferry boats, busily
-moving on the stream, as we swung up the broad Hudson to the piers
-where several big transports lay.
-
-Sailing lists of every man’s name in order of formation had been made
-in duplicate, one for our officers and another in the hands of the
-embarking officer. So he knew just how many of us there were, and had
-already designated a berth for each man.
-
-The railroad transport officer met us with the inquiry: “Is Company
----- of ---- Regiment on this boat?”
-
-“Yes, sir!”
-
-“Colonel Burbank?”
-
-“Here, sir!”
-
-“Good. Disembark at once, sir. Your transport sails in half an hour.
-Form your men on the dock opposite the freight clerk.”
-
-“Yes, sir!”
-
-“A loading detail of ten men!”
-
-“Yes, sir!”
-
-We disembark; but before the first company could be formed a
-transportation officer without saying by your leave marched us on
-board. He is the supreme officer on the dock--no matter if the general
-commanding be present the officer is the boss.
-
-Along the deck we went in column and on board the huge transport.
-
-“Your sailing list, sir!”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“Are you formed in order of list?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“Good! Load the company, Mr. Blank.”
-
-The clerk, with a lieutenant by his side with a duplicate list, calls
-out, “First Sergeant Smith.”
-
-“Here, sir.”
-
-The sergeant is handed a ticket, goes up the gangplank where he meets
-another sailor who sends him below; there he meets another sailor who
-sends him still further below, and so on until he is at the bottom of
-the ship where the bilge water smells. The others follow until the ship
-is stowed with a human freight of three thousand five hundred men.
-
-Every man has his bunk of collapsible iron tubing which stand in tiers
-three high, with a passage way between. Later on, the top sergeant gets
-a second class room. No dogs allowed; but I smuggled Muddy in under my
-big coat.
-
-We were all on board by night, and slept in our new quarters, but were
-surprised to awake in the morning and find our ship still at the dock.
-We were allowed to go ashore for exercise on the dock, and the ship
-routine began. Our canteens were ordered to be filled but not to be
-used except in an emergency.
-
-Before daylight, next morning, we swung out into the river and down
-into the broadening harbor, to the sea. We were all allowed on deck.
-As I stood viewing the scene on every side, of brilliantly lighted
-cities and towns, Jot came up, touched me on the shoulder and, with a
-sweep of his hand, said, “Don’t it put you in mind of that verse in
-the Bible,--‘Gazar and her towns and villages, unto the river of Egypt
-and the great sea and the border thereof?’” Then, as we waved an adieu
-to the Statue of Liberty he added, “We are the vanguard of the army
-to make good the meaning of that Statue that France has prophetically
-placed there. We go to deliver France and the world.”
-
-The land began to fade as daylight brightened. The broad sea spread
-out before us and with it a possible broader vista of life’s great
-drama and of the freedom of men as yet unborn, whose destinies we were
-perhaps carrying across the sea.
-
-The naval officers were in supreme command of all on board and we
-soldiers were put to ship routine at once.
-
-“It looks to me,” said Sergeant Nickerson, “like a huge job to feed all
-of us in this one dining room.”
-
-“But it isn’t our business,” I replied, “so long as we get the grub.”
-
-“But it may be everybody’s business if they don’t get it; and that’s
-what I am thinking about.” The difficulty was solved in this way. The
-men were marched to the room, and ate standing in line or at long
-tables. As fast as one batch was fed, another took its place. By the
-time breakfast was over, lunch began. It was a sort of endless chain
-made up of men, moving on schedule time.
-
-Men began to growl--growling is a soldier’s safety valve, and his
-privilege ever since soldiering first began.
-
-“Sure,” said Pat Quinn, “it’s ating tactics we are being drilled in.
-Ye’s open ye’s mouths so many toimes and then swallow--one toime and
-three motions!”
-
-“What are you growling about?” said Private Shaw. “There’ll likely be
-another motion on this ship soon, so that you can’t swallow at all!”
-
-So with rough jokes and gibes we ate our first breakfast on board ship.
-Then ship drill began. Each man was assigned to a boat or raft, and we
-learned the ship calls. When the bugle sounded “Assembly” every man
-was to go on deck and take his place at his boat or raft. At “Abandon
-Ship,” the boats and rafts were supposed to be got into the water.
-“Quarters” meant every man below, to his bunk.
-
-We go through the motions--only--of getting the boats and rafts over
-the side of the ship. When our instructor said that a raft was safer
-than a boat, but that we were never to climb onto one, but hang on with
-both hands, we were skeptical about it.
-
-“He wants to keep a boat for himself,” said Sam. “That is what he is
-preaching it for.”
-
-We knew, however, that the safety of all on board might depend upon our
-efficiency at this drill.
-
-With boat drill--mornings and afternoons--scrubbing decks, eating, and
-seasickness, our time was pretty fully occupied. I was dreadfully sick
-for a time, and did not care whether a submarine sunk us or not, but
-got over it before long. It was very close below decks, where we were
-mostly confined, and a hardship to those accustomed to the free air.
-
-Our company was so fortunate as to be detailed as extra deck watch,
-and a group of us were on duty at all hours, day and night. It was
-an autocratic job--we were “_It_.” We could refuse to take orders or
-answer questions from even the colonel! Our post for this duty was a
-little box of a pen where, with fine binoculars, we kept watch for
-submarines. I liked the duty; it was a change and much like guard duty.
-
-Before entering the danger zone we got detailed instructions against
-lights. Every match and flashlight on the ship had to be given up, and
-all hatches were closed at twilight. Even illuminated wrist watches
-were forbidden on deck at night.
-
-One day a submarine was actually sighted. I was on duty in the watch
-box with several of my company, when I saw something sticking out of
-the water like a small flag staff.
-
-“Submarine!” I yelled excitedly. Just then “bang!” went the forward
-deck gun and the periscope disappeared. Soon it was seen again at
-another quarter and another gun banged at it. Sam took up his rifle to
-shoot at it, but was restrained, though he declared he could put a
-bullet through it. Then “bang” went another of our guns, and we were
-told that she was sunk, but I doubted it.
-
-“Shucks!” growled Sam, “how can we shoot a Boche if we have to wait for
-orders? He will get away from us, before we can get them!”
-
-There was no excitement, though a young lieutenant rushed around
-saying, “Be calm, men! be calm!” But some of us thought he was not
-living up to his own orders.
-
-Soon after this Colonel Burbank sent for me to come to his cabin. After
-several kind inquiries about my folks, especially my father, he said,
-casually, “Sergeant Nickerson, I learn, has lived at your home? What do
-you know about him or his people?”
-
-I told him all that I knew about him, and said, among other things,
-that he had told my mother that Nickerson was only a part of his name.
-And I interspersed with this information not a little praise of Jot, to
-camouflage the fact that I didn’t actually know much about him.
-
-The purpose of these inquiries the colonel did not, of course, reveal.
-I was not a little surprised, however, when he said: “He looks like
-a German officer I once knew. I infer, from what you have told me,
-that he does not talk much about himself or his business. It’s a very
-soldierly quality!”
-
-As I went to my quarters below decks this remark was buzzing in my head
-like a bumble bee in a haying field. As the colonel had not instructed
-me to the contrary, I informed Jot, when I again saw him, about the
-colonel’s remarks--all except the last one, about the German officer.
-
-Jot stood for a moment, as though in thought, and then said, “It will
-do no harm to tell you that I can speak a little German which I learned
-from my father and his people. The first words I ever spoke were
-German; but mother didn’t like it.” Here he stopped as though he had
-already said too much, then, putting his hands affectionately on my
-shoulders, added, “Does it really make any difference to you, David,
-who my father was, when you know me so well?” And I knew that it would
-be useless to ask him further questions on that subject.
-
-We soon began to meet ships and fishing craft, mine sweepers, and
-tankers, which showed that we were nearing the coast. Next came a point
-of land like a cloud on the horizon, and then the top of a lighthouse
-appeared.
-
-Was it France or England? It was France.
-
-We learned that we were the first American transport to land at this
-port.
-
-Entering a narrow channel which widened out into a broad harbor, we
-were safe in France!
-
-“No one lands until ordered to do so by the commander of the port,” was
-the next order.
-
-It was not until the next day that the colonel, and some other officers
-were ordered ashore to see the port commodore; then, after some more
-waiting, we were told to get ready for landing. Shortly after, we saw
-the lighters coming up on which we were to disembark.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI IN BEAUTIFUL FRANCE
-
-
-Our first view of the land we had come to rescue was not prepossessing.
-Some men were standing on the sidewalks, as we marched through the
-narrow street ankle deep in mud.
-
-“Are we in France, or in the mud?” facetiously queried one soldier. As
-we marched through the narrow streets there was much cheering--not like
-American cheers, long drawn out, but sharp and not all together. There
-were some personal allusions in English.
-
-“I give you a kees;” said a girl. “You big fine Americans!”
-
-The salutations were as unlike our home calls as were the city and its
-buildings. The buildings were crowded together as though land were
-scarce, they were of stone with carvings and copper ornaments, which
-even the soldier would notice, they were so fine.
-
-We wanted to break loose and see France and talk to the people, but
-discipline held us in line. To men who had been confined for three
-weeks in narrow, stifling ship quarters, the air was invigorating.
-
-We reached the station on schedule time, and were embarked on third
-class cars, a squad of eight men to a compartment. No dogs were
-allowed, but I got Muddy in all the same, the guard taking pains not to
-see him.
-
-To Americans, accustomed to our large coaches, these little box-like
-cars seemed like toys.
-
-“Sho!” said Sam, “do they intend to give us one apiece? They are like
-baby carriages!”
-
-They were, however, fairly comfortable, but after jolting along for
-several hours, when the train stopped, naturally every one wanted to
-get out. Our officers had a full-sized man’s job to get them back again
-on time.
-
-Peter Beaudett, a French Canadian Yankee, protested, “I was saying
-something to a fine leetle girl; she speak de French to me.”
-
-Then we steamed on again, and after some hours we stopped at a station
-for hot coffee, then rode all night.
-
-“I didn’t suppose,” said Sam Jenkins, “that France was big enough for
-so much travel.”
-
-At last we stopped, and were told that we had reached our destination.
-
-We had reached the “Base Station,” or “Rest Camp,” and went into
-quarters. They consisted of low, one-story, portable barracks, lightly
-built with dirt floors, white oiled cotton cloth for windows, and
-with wooden cots similar to those in our home barracks. Though not as
-luxurious by a big sight, they were comfortable. It was one of several
-similar camps on the outskirts of an inland historic city.
-
-We took our ease for a few days, slept, ate, and visited the town when
-we could get a pass. None was allowed out of our well-guarded camp
-without one, and all must return at 9.30 P. M. or be punished. Then we
-began the routine of drill again, with French officers to teach us the
-new methods of fighting, such as bomb throwing and trench duty.
-
-At retreat one afternoon we were informed that we were to be reviewed
-the next day. So after mess we shaved, bathed, brushed up our
-equipments and uniforms with unusual care, and with a French regiment
-for escort, marched and countermarched, with the stars and stripes
-flying and bands playing; and then marched some more!
-
-The contrast between the French escort and our men was great. The
-French were different in many ways, some of them impossible to express
-in words. They were of inferior stature, many of them being not over
-five feet, two inches, and by contrast our men seemed giants. Their
-step was quick and brisk, while the strides of the Americans was a
-long, swinging stride, the step of men accustomed to hills and rough
-land, not that of good roads and pavements.
-
-We were greeted heartily by the crowds of people gathered on the
-sidewalks and at the windows of the buildings. Cries of “vive les
-Amerique!” and other calls, that I did not comprehend, were heard.
-Flowers were thrown at us. But there were no long-drawn-out cheers such
-as we were accustomed to hear at home on similar occasions. After much
-marching and parading there came the order:
-
-“Halt! Right dress! Front! Present arms!”
-
-We were being reviewed by that great French soldier who, when the
-German hordes were marching on Paris, threw himself like a lion in
-their path and turned the current of the battle, General Pétain.
-
-Some of us had read of him and looked with intense interest at this
-soldier of France. He was an erect martial figure, a little stout; with
-eyes keen, steady and penetrating, a white mustache, all the whiter
-by contrast with the darkening tan that told of long service in the
-field. No one could mistake him for other than a soldier; he bore that
-undefinable stamp of long service, discipline, and command of men.
-
-Then we passed in review with our wagon trains, cannon, and machine
-guns, the people cheering in their way, and showering us with wreaths
-and flowers.
-
-Even our mules, because they were American, came in for a share of
-attention. One fractious animal, that on account of bad conduct had
-been taken from a baggage wagon, drew attention by standing on his
-front feet and waving his hind legs and tail in the upper air, as
-though trying to make holes in the sky, and paint his displeasure with
-his tail. He was saluted with applause and laughter.
-
-One thing was preeminently seen, we American soldiers held the hearts
-and minds of all. Later in camp we came to know more of our hosts.
-
-The enlisted man has this advantage of his officers in learning to
-speak a language. He is not kept from trying to speak, by fear of
-making mistakes. He blunders on, and at last makes himself understood,
-though he makes fearful mistakes.
-
-I was not long in the camp before I was hailed by a _poilu_ who spoke
-the “American language.” He greeted me by saying, “How is little old
-New York?” He told me that he had lived there, but had come back when
-the war started to fight for his country.
-
-One day while I was writing a letter to the home folks, with Muddy
-lying by my side, Jot, accompanied by a woman, the English-speaking
-poilu, and with a little girl in his arms, came to me saying:
-
-“Dave, I want to show the dog to this baby and its mother.” So Muddy
-was put through his cunning tricks, and was played with and petted to
-his doggish heart’s delight.
-
-At this time I was in my eighteenth year--broad shouldered, and five
-feet eleven and one-half inches in height. My uniform emphasized my
-stalwart form, now filled out and straightened by military training.
-Though I was never considered a big man at home, I felt myself, by the
-side of the smaller French soldiers, somewhat of a giant.
-
-I stood up and saluted the little sad-faced woman and the “poilu”, and
-heard, or rather saw that she had asked some question about me.
-
-“What is it she is saying?” I inquired.
-
-“She wants to know,” replied the poilu, “if I knew the blond giant in
-America. Our people don’t know what a big country America is. They
-think it mostly New York city. You Americans are taller than our people
-but,” he added proudly, “my countrymen are big in courage and spirit.”
-
-I remarked upon the large number of women who wore long crepe veils,
-when he replied, “Yes; there are many in mourning for their dead. This
-little woman had already lost two sons in this war, and has just now
-got word that her only remaining son had been killed in battle.”
-
-“She is not crying,” I said.
-
-“No,” he replied. “Her loss is too deep for tears, and she is consoled
-by knowing that she has given them to France.”
-
-“Express to her my sympathy,” I said, and Jot added, “Tell her that we
-are very sorry indeed for her.”
-
-Then seeing that she had made some reply, we asked what she had said.
-
-“She said: ‘God gave them to me, and I have given them to France.’”
-
-While this conversation was going on, a man came up and stood
-apparently intent on watching the child and dog, and seeming to give no
-attention to our talk. Then touching Jot on the shoulder and drawing
-him out of hearing, he began to talk to him, as though trying to get
-his consent to some proposal, and then moved away with him towards
-the colonel’s quarters in a nearby château. He looked to me like the
-same man I had seen talking to Jot at home when the horse trader
-visited us. I wondered at this, for Jot was not given to making chance
-acquaintances. Then I saw them disappear in the large house where the
-colonel had his quarters.
-
-After undergoing intensive training for several weeks, we were thought
-fit to receive more practical and strenuous duties and practice, by
-being moved to real war trenches within reach of the guns of the enemy.
-
-We in the ranks knew that something was up. The Eagle (colonel) had
-summoned our Skipper (captain), a clerk had copied a list of names that
-had been given him, and now all the officers were in with the eagle.
-The supply sergeant was already nailing up boxes, and the mess sergeant
-had been heard to say:
-
-“I can’t see how the oven can be moved again”--all of which were signs
-to any soldier that our regiment was about to “pull out.”
-
-We were all on tiptoe when the order came.
-
-Every man whose shoes did not fit him got a chance to change them. Then
-a list of promotions was published and, to my surprise and pleasure, I
-was promoted to be a sergeant in place of one reduced. I was assigned
-to a loading detail by the top, and with nineteen men went to the
-quartermaster’s depot with an auto, and loaded up with ten days’
-traveling rations, and hauled them to the depot. By ten o’clock the
-barrack bags came down, seven days’ rations were put in a freight car,
-and three laid out on the platform.
-
-All was ready, and after dark the companies marched down to the station
-to entrain. I fell in line in my place on the platform with the rest.
-Then the mess sergeant and cooks dealt out enough “chow” (rations) for
-the corporals, so that each man had for his squad a can of beans, two
-cans of Willy (corn beef), and four packages of hard bread, and a can
-of jam.
-
-“It has got to last you three days,” cautioned the mess sergeant; “so
-go easy on it.”
-
-The top came along and checked every squad as it embarked. The officers
-shook hands with the railroad transportation officer and, together with
-the French interpreter, climbed aboard.
-
-They were little box cars, and painted on the outside “32 hommes, 8
-cheveaux.” There were portable benches at each end and a good lot of
-straw.
-
-“Sure,” said Pat who was in my car, “it is comfortable enough for a
-pig.”
-
-“Aw!” rejoined Shaw, “Cheveaux means horses, you wild Irishman!”
-
-[Illustration: “AW!” REJOINED SHAW, “CHEVEAUX MEANS HORSES, YOU WILD
-IRISHMAN!”--Page 50.]
-
-Then we settled into the car; rifles in place, kits hung up on the
-sides, a lantern swung in the center. We were, despite all the
-growling, very comfortable. There was a seat for every man. All voted
-that it beat third class cars.
-
-We reached a coffee station, and lined up outside the car in double
-ranks, and each man got a cup full of French coffee. Then came an all
-night ride. The men took off their boots and, with a haversack for a
-pillow, slept snug as bugs in a rug.
-
-I slept, sitting up, with my back against the door, querying to myself
-if the buck private’s job was not easier than that of a sergeant. And I
-thought, possibly the skipper himself did not have so easy a time as I
-had sometimes thought.
-
-The scenery was beautiful. We followed the course of a river. On the
-banks were old castles, beautiful châteaus, villages with red topped
-roofs, and always stone bridges.
-
-“Say, boys!” exclaimed Sam, “we would have to pay big money for this
-sight seeing excursion, before the war.”
-
-It was getting so interesting that we forgot to eat.
-
-“Where are we going, Sergeant?”
-
-“Don’t know.”
-
-“How long will it take to get there?” inquired another inquisitive
-Yankee.
-
-“Don’t know,” I replied, “there are three days’ rations on board, and
-seven in a freight car.”
-
-“Don’t the skipper or eagle know?”
-
-“Guess not; we are travelling on confidential orders; perhaps the eagle
-does know.”
-
-So on through France we travelled, to heaven knows where!
-
-At last we halted at a small station. An officer met us and inquired
-for the commanding officer. The train pulled in to a high platform,
-where we unloaded. We had reached the limits of our railroad travel. It
-was dark, and we were tired and hungry, with prospects of cold grub for
-supper.
-
-We were assigned to billets by an American officer--stables, barns,
-stores and lofts. Some big galvanized cans of hot coffee were sent us
-by the officer of an American regiment already established.
-
-“Thanks!” I heard the colonel say. “I hope to return the compliment
-some time.”
-
-“You can return the coffee out of your ration tomorrow; it is the rule
-here to help each other.”
-
-The most expressive part of our location was that for the first time,
-we were within sound of guns. We heard a dull boom! boom! and at times
-thought we heard the sharper sound of rifles. We were near the front at
-last, and were to get practical experiences in the trenches, further to
-fit us for the grim duties of soldiering.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII IN THE TRENCHES
-
-
-I, with others, was billeted in a house and barn tenanted by a little
-French woman with a brood of several young children, whose husband
-was fighting for France. Others were billeted, by the town major, in
-warehouses, lofts, and other places.
-
-After a few days’ rest in our billets, we were marched to the trenches.
-
-The American front in France at this time, so far as there was any
-front, was in Lorraine. In reality there was no American front,
-because our army had not had the training to hold one. While we had
-received the drill of ordinary soldiering, we lacked experience in the
-prevailing war methods then in use.
-
-While my regiment is marching forward to take up trench duties in front
-of the enemy’s lines, let us take a look at what constitutes that part
-of a modern army known as an infantry regiment; for infantry is the
-body and mainstay of an army.
-
-The old Civil War regiments were made up of ten companies of 152
-officers and men; more often less. The modern company has 256 officers
-and men; and the regiments made up by these twelve companies, has
-103 officers and 3,652 men. The officers of the modern company,
-while on a war footing are: One captain, three first lieutenants, two
-second lieutenants, one first sergeant, one mess sergeant, one supply
-sergeant, twelve sergeants, thirty-three corporals, four mechanics,
-four cooks, two buglers, and 192 privates. One of the first lieutenants
-is the captain’s assistant; the others each command one of its four
-platoons of men.
-
-The transportation equipment of a regiment is more elaborate than is
-generally known. It consists of twenty-two combat wagons, sixteen
-rolling kitchens for cooking food, twenty-two baggage and ration
-wagons, sixteen ration carts, fifteen water carts, three medical carts,
-twenty-four machine-gun carts, fifty-nine riding horses, eight riding
-mules, three hundred and thirty-two draft mules, two motorcycles with
-side cars, one motor car and forty-two bicycles.
-
-Arrived at the trenches we were taught, among other things, to
-“camouflage” as the French call it, which means to disguise, or
-conceal. This has become an art in modern warfare, because cavalry is
-no longer the eyes of an army as in former times, and airplanes reveal
-what is not carefully hidden.
-
-For illustration: an artilleryman of heavy guns now seldom sees the
-object he is to fire upon. The directions for firing are given by
-signals from air-craft. These locate the enemy’s line of battle,
-trenches, machine gun and artillery emplacements, magazines or the
-“dugout” of some general to be fired upon.
-
-Hence, to disguise or _camouflage_ them is important. Heavy artillery
-firing is not by sighting, but by directions given them by mathematical
-calculation. The guns, even, are streaked with paint to resemble the
-surrounding country, so that they may be more effectually concealed.
-
-The concealment of artillery magazine stations, or other important
-stations, has been brought to great perfection. Sometimes a road
-leading to them is roofed by canvas and painted to resemble the
-surrounding scenery of rocks or foliage.
-
-The war trench is a ditch six feet or more in depth, with a fire step
-that brings a soldier to the height needful for firing upon an enemy.
-On the top of this trench, along the front edge of it, are laid bags
-filled with sand, so disposed as to give loopholes through which a
-rifle can be fired without requiring the soldier to expose his head.
-This trench is not built on a straight line, but zigzag like the teeth
-of an enormous saw, so that its machine-guns and riflemen can fire down
-and parallel along the trench. At every twenty feet or more, there is
-a barricade built across the trenches, so that if any enemy should get
-possession of one part of it, he can not, by artillery, machine-guns or
-rifles, fire down the whole length upon the men there; for this would
-be tremendously destructive.
-
-In front and about ten feet from the trench is a barricade of barbed
-wire. This is made by setting stakes very firmly in the ground so deep
-and solid that they can not be easily removed, and twisting barbed
-wire around them. It is impossible to pass through this entanglement
-without first destroying it by artillery fire, or cutting it; and this
-is costly to life.
-
-There are, in addition to this trench, three other rear trenches.
-These are joined with the front trench by connecting trenches, through
-which the soldier can pass with comparative safety.
-
-In these rear trenches are first aid and food stations; and in a
-dugout, safety sheltered and concealed in the rear, is the general who
-directs the fighting. To his dugout, or station, are connected wires or
-telephones and telegraph, so that he can conduct the fight, and receive
-intelligence of everything taking place on the battle line. Though he
-is in comparative safety his is a hard position; for he can not leave
-it without losing some point of importance, in the work of direction.
-
-The science of war, in its details, has vastly changed since the Civil
-War, though the principles that govern its larger movements are the
-same, modified somewhat by the new machinery used in fighting.
-
-It was October, 1917, when we had landed in France; it was now
-February, 1918, cold, bleak, and dreary. Rain, snow and sleet had made
-soldiering uncomfortable anywhere; and the trenches were no exception
-to this rule--but rather an exaggeration of it.
-
-It has sometimes seemed to me, that in my army life the most
-inconvenient times were always selected for its most disagreeable
-duties. This rule held good for our introduction to life in the
-trenches. It was a cold day. Snow covered the ground--at least that
-portion of it not trampled into the chalky mud, which, partially
-thawed, stuck to our feet like poultices. Marching, however, with heavy
-packs soon warmed us, and we were glad to arrive at our destination.
-
-The sector to which we were assigned for duty had been occupied by
-some French troops, who were just moving out. They did not cheer
-us--for cheers are out of place in some parts of soldiering, especially
-where it may give information to the enemy. But they welcomed us with
-brightening eyes, and nods, and smiles of approval, as we filed into
-the trenches; and looked--so it seemed to me--not a little enviously at
-our well-filled packs with the heavy blankets of our outfit.
-
-We found the trenches which had been constructed for the _poilu_, a
-little shallow for taller Americans. And as we had been warned not to
-show our heads above the parapets, we had to crouch when moving through
-them.
-
-We were told that some of these trenches occupied by the French had
-board flooring; but ours did not, except in spots.
-
-“By Shorge,” said Peter Beaudett, “do they think we are feesh?”
-
-“An’ sure,” said Pat Quinn in a hoarse whisper, “no dacent fish would
-live here--it’s mud turtles that we are!”
-
-“Hush up,” commanded the top sergeant, in a hoarse whisper, “no noise;
-keep your ears and eyes open, but shut your mouths.”
-
-Silence followed; but as we threw off our packs, and were told to make
-ourselves comfortable, it seemed a little sarcastic.
-
-“If we mustn’t talk,” said Sam, in a low tone, “I suppose they can’t
-hinder us from keeping up a lot of thinking, can they?”
-
-“An’ how can a man think,” muttered Pat, “with all this half-frozen mud
-on his fate and moind?”
-
-We had settled down, in the mud, as one of the sergeants said to
-me with a wink, and with Yankee ingenuity were making ourselves as
-comfortable as we could. Private Shaw made a stove by punching holes in
-a metal bucket, and kindling a fire therein (which Corporal Sutherland
-said was “a kind of lightning bug heater”). He sat with it between his
-legs, trying to warm himself. Peter Beaudett, with his blanket wrapped
-around him, was saying all sorts of funny things in a low tone, about
-soldiering, and the irrepressible Quinn, with Irish combativeness, was
-making contrary replies.
-
-“What made me get into this mud,” grumbled Peter, “when I had a good
-home and such beeg lot of comforts that I didn’t know that I had any?”
-
-“An’ why,” said Quinn “didn’t ye’s stay tied to your mither’s apron
-string, so ye’s could crawl under the bed whin it thundered?”
-
-In spite of all this by-play of growling and seeming grumpiness, the
-men were not dissatisfied at being face to face with their enemy, or at
-least in the trenches opposite them.
-
-The opposing lines, meanwhile, were so silent that our men, peering
-cautiously through the “gun holes” as Sam called the spaces left
-between the sand bags piled on top in front, were curious to see the
-Boche, and could be hardly restrained from firing a shot to “stir them
-up.” This feeling also was seen in those of higher rank; for is it not
-natural for Americans to want to “see something doing”?
-
-The French, who were acting as our instructors, and who had had
-experience in these same trenches, cautioned us against this. They
-said that there was a tacit agreement between the contestants, not to
-needlessly stir up a fight.
-
-There was a well of water just to our right, midway between the
-opposing trenches where, by tacit consent, two men at a time were
-allowed to resort; near it was an apple tree whose limbs enticed one,
-provokingly, as good for firewood.
-
-The next night following these occurrences was one of watchful waiting.
-I was sergeant of the guard; but nothing of importance occurred during
-the night, except that the weather moderated, and the rain came
-pouring down in torrents and then turned to sleet. But when it came
-my turn off, it was not too rainy for sound, dreamless sleep--and, as
-soldiering goes, it was not so very uncomfortable to strong athletic
-youngsters with hot blood in their veins; as grew apparent to us, by
-contrast, later.
-
-With the coming of morning, American restlessness and the desire to see
-things moving became more apparent in our ranks, and even among our
-officers.
-
-“Phat the divil are we here for a’ tall?” said Pat Quinn. “Is it to be
-sitting with our thumbs in our mouths like the little Jack Horner?”
-
-It had ceased to rain. The sun had come out, and the clouds cleared
-away sufficiently for us to catch glimpses of blue in the sky; and
-American blood and impatience began to stir.
-
-When two German soldiers without arms were seen at the well mentioned,
-taking a wash and getting water, they were not at first molested,
-though it could be seen that Yankee fingers were itching to take a shot.
-
-After finishing washing, one of the Boches began cutting some branches
-from the tree. That was too much for Private Shaw, who stuck his rifle
-between the sand bags and _crack!_ went a shot at the Boches who,
-dropping wood and water, scampered in unheroic haste for their holes.
-
-“Who did that?” inquired the tall lieutenant of our platoon. “Who fired
-that shot?”
-
-“It was me, sir,” answered Shaw. “I wanted some of that wood myself!”
-
-“Well,” said the lieutenant good-naturedly, “you stand a mighty poor
-chance to get any of it now.” And just as he spoke and straightened up
-a little, _ping!_ came a bullet that passed through the officer’s hat.
-
-“The imperdence of the divil!” said Pat; “sure, Lieutenant, are ye
-hurted?”
-
-The lieutenant was mad, and walked away growling under his breath
-without reply.
-
-In a few moments, bang! bang! bang! bang! went our light guns; and then
-came replies from the enemy that boded ill for quiet times, for the
-Boche guns, speaking from their hiding places, seemed likely to reach
-us in our burrows.
-
-One great eight-inch shot struck near our parapet, exploding with a
-crashing roar, breaking a broad path through the barbed-wire barricade
-and leaving a hole big enough to bury a whole platoon.
-
-“Faith, is that phat they call a Jack Johnson?” said Quinn, “or is it a
-little light-weight fellow?”
-
-Our French officer was understood to say that it was the latter. Peter
-Beaudett, during the firing, had been struck by a small piece of spent
-shell, which knocked him over while barely breaking the skin of his
-jaws. He “rustled” as Shaw declared “like a hen with its head cut off;”
-then, finding that he was not killed, though two of his teeth had been
-knocked out, he angrily shook his fist towards the enemy, crying out:
-“Py tam! I no like your doctor pulls my teeth; I fight you now, by tam!”
-
-We had got our lesson, that two can play at a dangerous game; and after
-this the opposing lines settled down for a while, to comparative peace
-and quiet.
-
-Such was our introduction to trench warfare, on the front line, which
-finally grew in intensity and became exciting and dangerous enough
-to satisfy the most enterprising Yankee. Even this first experience,
-however, had convinced us that there were worse discomforts than rain,
-snow, or mud.
-
-Shortly after this, it was my duty to take a turn with a squad on the
-listening post. I had with me a young German-American named Kepler,
-whose father had been a soldier with my father during the Civil War,
-and whose loyalty and patriotism were unquestioned. He was quiet,
-phlegmatic, and resolute; absolutely to be depended upon, and, better
-still, spoke and understood the German language.
-
-Silently creeping through the excavation leading under our barbed wire
-barricade and, leading to the front of the German trenches, we reached
-our station. Here we listened for possible movements of the enemy, but
-all was quiet and we had, as Sam said, who was another of our party,
-“nothing to report, but a big lot of silence and chills.”
-
-A listening post, here let me explain, runs underground, in most cases,
-beneath the barbed wire barricade which protects the trench from
-sudden invasion, such as mining to blow up our trenches; and sometimes
-conversation and orders could be heard, which gave valuable information.
-
-Of course the Germans, on their part, also had listening posts
-constantly near us whose whereabouts were, however, not known, though
-sometimes guessed at.
-
-The duties of those on listening posts had not only a spice of danger,
-but an appeal to the natural curiosity of a New Englander. Therefore,
-with all its “cramped-up-itiveness,” as Sam called it, it was not
-without its fascination for our boys.
-
-When, after a tour of four days’ duty on the front-line trench, we were
-relieved and marched to our rest billets in the rear, we found it more
-than agreeable.
-
-As Sutherland stood up at his full six-foot height, he said, looking
-around and taking a full breath, “Say, isn’t this a big country!”
-
-“Shure,” agreed Pat, “ye’s can get a white man’s braith and niver a
-fear of getting a bullet to vintelite your head, or a piece of shell to
-knock out your dintistry.”
-
-At which Peter Beaudett rubbed his jaw and ejaculated, “Ugh!”
-
-With all the badinage and by-play of rough jokes, the men were more
-serious when coming from the trenches than when, with some forebodings,
-they had taken up its duties.
-
-My! how I enjoyed “chow” that night when mess call sounded! And the
-dreamless sleep that followed, with clean straw and with a blanket
-spread over it for a bed!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII “WHO COMES THERE?”
-
-
-One of the first things I did on going into rest billet was to send
-word to Jonathan by Muddy.
-
-Our friendship had grown stronger since entering the army, and we had
-kept it up by frequent intercourse; both by meetings and by exchange of
-notes back and forth by Muddy. When I put a note in his collar and told
-him to carry it to Jot, he seemed to understand what he must do; and
-these notes except, in one or two instances, reached their destination.
-
-There were some jokes about the “Muddy mail,” but most of our comrades
-thought it was wonderfully intelligent that the dog understood when
-told to carry it.
-
-There had never been any serious misunderstanding between Jot and me.
-Ever since coming to France, however, there had been vague insinuations
-that Jot was of German parentage and sympathies. There was nothing that
-I knew that warranted such a belief; but since I had learned that he
-spoke their language, these whispers of suspicion had increased until
-they affected me with just a little inner questioning. What was the
-reason for his being always so reticent about his father?
-
-I did not, however, for a moment distrust his patriotism or loyalty to
-our country. The general distrust and hatred of everything German was
-common among all classes. It was but the natural result of the wicked
-and cruel policy of the German government and army, since entering upon
-this dreadful war, which now seemed to menace civilization and free
-government, so dear to Americans.
-
-When Jot came to see me, as requested by my note through the “Muddy
-mail,” I told him of these rumors, and said: “Would it not be better to
-tell about your family, and stop these sinister rumors, for good?”
-
-“You have confidence in me, haven’t you, Davie?” Jot replied.
-
-“Yes,” I asserted, “I think I would trust you sooner than myself, in
-any important matter. But wouldn’t it be better for me to know the
-truth, so that I can contradict these insinuations?”
-
-After a moment’s thought, he replied: “Well, possibly it would. But
-it is to satisfy you rather than them, that I will say, my father was
-born in the United States. He was, in that sense, an American. I have a
-half-brother three years older than I, who is said to resemble me, but
-we never agreed. And there was a misunderstanding between my father and
-mother that was never healed. It was by her request, almost her last
-one, that I have taken my present name. That’s all I can tell you, and
-that is all there is of consequence to know.”
-
-This had to satisfy me, and with it I hoped to contradict any further
-insinuations that I might hear.
-
-Soon after this we were on duty again in the front trenches, and were
-at first careful not to stir up needless fighting.
-
-The duties of a soldier call for constant caution and alertness; and
-yet he must have a care-free cheerfulness with it all. He must not
-borrow either sorrow or trouble. It requires time to nourish either
-fear or worry, and the philosophy that does not cultivate them is the
-one that produces the most comfort for a soldier. So, during our stay
-at the rest billets, we ate and joked and enjoyed more than those
-who live in the calm of life. And now, when with a certain confident
-jauntiness we again took our places in the trenches we were full of
-confidence and courage; and it proved the wisdom of frequent rests in
-this nerve-straining duty.
-
-We were, however, not only getting acquainted with our duties and its
-dangers, but were making acquaintance with its other discomforts.
-
-We were admonished by our officers to keep clean and cheerful. But I
-could not see that we needed the advice more than those who gave it;
-for I came upon our captain with his shirt off curiously investigating
-the seams of it for certain familiar invaders that were a plague to
-most of us. It was shiveringly cold and damp, but these pests were no
-respecters of rank. Cooties, as Tommy Atkins calls them, can not be put
-out or down with a frown, or even by a general order from headquarters.
-
-“They and the rats are,” said Sutherland, “a providential war creation
-intended to keep soldiers so busy as to forget, with scratching and
-frequent investigation, all smaller troubles.” However, he used
-sulphurous words, common from time immemorial to soldiers, because our
-French predecessors had left these pestiferous enemies behind them for
-us to fight.
-
-“By Shorge,” said Peter Beaudett, “I dinks dey carries enough de
-cooties away to keep dem busy! But de rats! one got’a hold of the ear
-of me the las’ night!”
-
-Sutherland, who was something of a reader, declared that he had never
-before understood why it was that in “Tristam Shandy,” so much emphasis
-was put by Uncle Toby in his assertion that “The army swore terribly in
-Flanders;” but that the reason was now revealed: for it surely was the
-cooties, that caused this profanity!
-
-No one can understand the discomforts of trench life when simply
-depicted in words. No one can describe a trench by word or picture;
-he can not introduce any one there by illustration, he must be there
-himself, or he can not understand its real discomforts. They did not
-seem fit places for civilized men, those who used combs, brushes, soap
-and napkins, had clean hands and faces. We were ghosts of the cave men.
-
-Trench life, however, had its phases of good. It drew men together with
-a sense of companionship with danger and death, that they had not known
-before. While a needful reserve was kept up between officers and men,
-there was greater cordiality and a greater feeling of intimacy,--less
-harshness.
-
-For some weeks there had been a season of peacefulness between the
-lines. The weather had become warmer and more springlike, with
-occasionally a sunny day. Then there came a change. We had become
-accustomed to trench duties and not a little tired at its sameness.
-
-It was while I was on this duty that the change came. I, with others,
-was on detail at a listening post one night, and while intently
-listening, young Kepler said in a whisper: “Did you hear that,
-Sergeant?”
-
-“I heard a growl,” I whispered, “as though some one was speaking.”
-
-“I think they are going to attack, somewhere,” he said. “There, did you
-hear that?”
-
-“No, what is it?”
-
-“Some one giving orders,” he replied. “I can’t hear distinctly, but I
-am sure it means an attack.”
-
-We sent back word to the trenches, and they in turn sent back word to
-the commandant in his dugout, that there was an unusual stir on the
-German front opposite us; though we could tell nothing more definite at
-that time.
-
-It was not long before we learned the meaning of what we had heard at
-the listening post.
-
-A tremendous explosion of artillery, about two o’clock, broke the
-stillness of the damp gray morning. Gas shells came whistling over us.
-We put on our gas masks, and were thankful that the shells were mostly
-going over us instead of striking near. Our heads with these masks
-looked queer, and laughter-provoking.
-
-“This means an attack,” was passed down the lines.
-
-“I don’t think they know any more about it than we do,” some one
-growled.
-
-“It’s meself,” said Pat Quinn, “that wishes it would come along
-dacently soon, if it’s coming.”
-
-This expressed the feeling often felt among soldiers,--to know the
-worst and have it over with quickly.
-
-“They fire all along the line,” said our lieutenant, “so that we can
-not tell where the real attack is coming.”
-
-The continuous whistling of gas shells and the sickening fumes that
-partially reached us, the explosions over and near us, and our answers
-in like kind made it even then seem like a hell on earth.
-
-Then the enemy seemed to get a more perfect aim, and their shells swept
-away our wire barricades clean to the ground, as though they were
-cobwebs, until not even a post was left standing.
-
-Our men, cowered under the earth embankments, waiting, waiting, with
-high-strung, impatient and nervous suspense, until, at last, they were
-warned that the attack was at hand.
-
-Then our artillery quickened in sharp explosions, while the _rat,
-tat, tat_ of the machine-guns, like a stick being drawn over a slat
-fence, filled the air with a demoniac clamor impossible to describe.
-The air was full of hoarsely shrieking shells and shot that made the
-air vibrate, and the ground rock, as though the demons themselves had
-broken loose!
-
-Then the nerves that were shaken stiffened, and we were ready for the
-attack.
-
-The Boche came on in two waves, one behind the other, and were met by
-the deadly, coolly-directed machine-gun fire and the well-aimed rifles
-of our sharpshooters. Still they came on, got possession of one small
-part of our entrenchment between two traverses, and tried to drive our
-men down the trenches by enfilading them with machine-gun fire. But
-they were driven back again with losses in dead, wounded, and prisoners.
-
-The dark clouds that had hung over the scene during the fight cleared.
-The sun came out and as it neared the horizon, like a great disk of
-blood, the dark smoke drifted away, revealing the scene in our front.
-There a score of mortally wounded and dead lay.
-
-When we took stock of our losses, we found them slight. One of our
-first lieutenants was wounded, two privates killed, and five wounded,
-two of them but slightly, and two missing.
-
-I was so fortunate as to receive praise from my captain for what he
-called my “coolness and courage.” But, I must confess the truth, I was
-at first woefully frightened but tried not to show it.
-
-I have since learned that though big gun fire makes an alarming sound,
-it also makes a good many holes in the air without touching a head; and
-that the most fatal effects in battle are more often from well-aimed
-machine-gun fire and rifles.
-
-After a battle, when the enemy has been successfully met, there comes
-a feeling of exaltation among its defenders. The French officers were
-generous in praise of us, while our captain said, “You made a good
-fight, and I am proud of every one of you.”
-
-Colonel Burbank also was generous in his praise. “It is your baptism
-of fire as soldiers that you will never forget, and can remember with
-pride,” he stated.
-
-When I remembered my trembling knees and the sick feeling at the pit
-of my stomach, I doubted if any of the praise belonged to me, but
-concluded not to mention it.
-
-Peter Beaudett, who was wounded severely in the arm and had first aid,
-said, with a wink at Quinn, as though he had good fortune instead of a
-wound, “By gar! It means to me a bed and much clean sheets.”
-
-“Shure,” replied our ever disputing Quinn, “and it may mane a doctor’s
-saw,” and then seeing by his wounded comrade’s face that his remark was
-cutting deeper than he intended, added more softly, “a pretty Red Cross
-nurse and a vacation. An’ I almost wish it was meself that was in your
-place.”
-
-Our lieutenant was more severely wounded than was at first thought and
-we learned that it was the opinion of the surgeons that it would be a
-long time, if ever, before he was able to resume his duties with the
-company.
-
-Here let me, unwillingly, record the fact that Muddy did not prove
-to be a hero. When the racket began, he tucked his tail between his
-legs and with a whine and an apologetic look at me over his shoulder,
-scampered off in a most unheroic manner.
-
-“This means promotion to some one,” said our men, when it was known
-that our first lieutenant, Reese, was not likely to resume duty on
-account of the severity of his wounds.
-
-In spite of hardships and battle, to which, however, we were becoming
-reconciled, we professed ourselves enthusiastically ready for another
-“bout” with the Boches, and didn’t care who knew it!
-
-I was very proud, for my friend Jonathan gained the good opinion of his
-officers and men, by his soldierly coolness and courage.
-
-“Say,” said Sutherland confidentially, “them German chaps don’t take a
-back seat in fighting, I guess.”
-
-“It is no use to dispute the fact that they are brave men,” I answered.
-
-“Aw!” said Pat, “of course, or they wouldn’t be holdin’ on here in
-France by their teeth like so many divils. An’ I haven’t a doubt that
-ould Satan himsilf is a brave one too.”
-
-Thus ended our first real fight in France, the memory of which gave
-us courage for the fighting before us. One of the results was seen
-a few weeks after, when First Sergeant Nickerson was promoted to be
-second lieutenant of my company, in place of Lieutenant Reese, who was
-mustered out of the service with honors on account of wounds. I was
-also promoted to be a second sergeant, and no one but myself knew how
-undeserved was my advancement; though there came a time soon when I
-thought I deserved it better.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX A CALL RETURNED
-
-
-“See here!” said our burly top sergeant, “the Boches have made a call
-on us, and it seems to me it is up to us to return it, as is usual in
-polite society.”
-
-“I wouldn’t be so sorry,” growled Sutherland, with a grin, “if I never
-saw them again.”
-
-“An’ sure, as my mither used to say about the O’Flyns,” said Quinn,
-“their room is bether than their company.”
-
-But individual preferences do not count in the army. Everything, even
-human nature, must yield to discipline. The making of a soldier is
-not the matter of a day, or one of personal preference; it is one of
-progressive training; and a part of that training is to put in practice
-that which has been learned in theory.
-
-For illustration: we had been taught, in theory, the importance of
-personal cleanliness for the preservation of health; but in the squalor
-of trench life, we were apt to disregard it. Especial care in washing
-of the feet was enjoined, to prevent trench feet which is not only a
-painful infliction but one that unfits a soldier for marching or other
-duty.
-
-“An’ why,” said Quinn, “don’t they put off bein’ so particular until we
-have more toime?”
-
-“Because,” said Sutherland, “the time to do a thing in the army is when
-it is the most inconvenient.”
-
-“I belave yees,” said Pat. “They expect us to shave and kape nate as
-though we were going to a dance, or to call on the prisident, instid of
-standing on a fire step in a muddy trench, with rats running over us
-and cooties for steady visitors.”
-
-Though others complained of rats, I was not inconvenienced by them;
-for Muddy, who was a good ratter, slept cuddled up by me. Woe to one
-that was seen within his range by night or day. Though it was at first
-feared that he might bark, he seemed to understand that the trench was
-not a place for noise.
-
-There was a rumor that we were soon to go “over the top” to make a
-morning call on the Boches. Where or how an army rumor starts no one
-knows. But if there was ever a place where rumor first had birth, it
-must have been in a camp of soldiers.
-
-“You can hear anything here but the truth,” said Quinn, “and a
-botherin’ soight of that.”
-
-No matter where this rumor originated it was largely believed. Most of
-the men could not see the use of being so polite as to return enemy
-calls and, I confess, that I regarded even the thought of it with some
-qualms. I wanted to be brave and hated myself for not welcoming the
-chance to be in the lists of valor; but I didn’t!
-
-“It’s bad weather,” said Sutherland jocosely, “and a mighty
-inconvenient time to be killed.” And that was the way I felt about
-it. But a soldier is not consulted about his likings or conveniences
-in doing anything; for he is but a part of a machine that is working
-for a great purpose, and which must be fed on human discomfort and,
-possibly, on human blood and life.
-
-When the order came for us to take a special bath and put on clean
-clothing, the order that in modern warfare precedes a fight, we thought
-it of the same piece with previous exactions for cleanliness and “fuss
-scraping,” as Sam called it. I soon learned, however, that it was a
-precaution taken as a preventive of blood poison and infection in case
-of being wounded.
-
-There had been a rehearsal in the part which we were to take in the
-attack. Every man was assigned his place and instructed as to what
-he must do and how to do it. It was like the rehearsal of a stage
-piece. To each man was issued an extra gas helmet,--making two in all.
-These were examined by professionals to see that they were in order;
-and we were drilled in quickly adjusting them in case of need. Our
-identification disks, which are carried by each soldier, were carefully
-fastened to our persons, to identify those severely wounded or killed.
-
-Our aviators, like great gulls, flying above the German lines, had been
-searching out their machine-gun emplacements, magazines and artillery;
-and we knew by all these signs that our trial of arms was near.
-
-At twelve o’clock at night men were sent out to cut broad paths through
-the barbed wire barricades for the passage of our troops. At about half
-past one our guns opened fire on the enemy to destroy the rest of their
-wire entanglements; and, although I knew that the cannonade was a
-friendly one, it seemed to lift the roots of my hair from my scalp, at
-the thought that one of them might accidentally kill me.
-
-I couldn’t make myself feel brave when I thought of taking part in the
-impending attack; though I had schooled myself to stolid determination
-to get killed, rather than to let my comrades know that I was scared.
-Pride is often a good substitute for courage.
-
-With all my fears and dread, my mind was clear, possibly because of the
-stimulant of danger. But I saw too many unpleasant possibilities. A
-vivid imagination is sometimes an inconvenient possession for a soldier.
-
-All at last was ready. Short ladders had been placed all along the
-parapet, and rude stairways made of stakes were prepared, so that the
-men could quickly go over the top of the trenches. An hour before the
-coming attack we were moved to the front trench while others filled the
-connecting trenches, ready to follow us over the top.
-
-It was in the gray hours of morning,--about four o’clock I should
-judge,--while the guns were still belching over us, that the shrill
-whistle of command sounded for advance. And up and over we went!
-
-To my surprise, I was less frightened than when contemplating the
-danger. My mind worked with peculiar clearness as we went forward at
-quick time towards the enemy under their heavy fire from machine-guns
-and rifles.
-
-I saw men fall as though they had stumbled over a stone. One hundred
-and fifty yards is not a great distance, but it is a long way to
-travel under fire, at least it seemed a long way to me.
-
-As we neared the hostile trenches their entire front lit up with red
-flame from machine-guns and rifles.
-
-Humming bullets, fierce screams, hoarse attempts at cheers, guttural
-shouts, the clatter of machine-guns, all blended in one demoniac roar
-as we piled over into the enemy’s trench. The foe at first resisted,
-but at last yielded before the impetuous assault of our bayonets and
-fell back through their communicating trenches. I saw one sticking out
-his head from behind a traverse as much as to say, “I am at home.”
-Another big German, swinging his rifle by the barrel for a club,
-confronted me. I fended with my rifle barrel, lunged, and down he went!
-
-Then a confused mingling of men and sounds impossible to describe
-succeeded. I was struck by some projectile and found myself wondering
-what had happened to me. Then came the shrill whistle for retirement. I
-struggled up and, but for a little faintness and an aching place under
-my vest, was myself again.
-
-While comrades were climbing out of the trench, and I was about to
-follow, my foot struck a prostrate form. It stirred slightly. I was
-excitedly anxious to get back to our lines, but could not leave a
-wounded comrade in the hands of the enemy. Picking up the man I threw
-him over my shoulder, climbed painfully over the parapet and across the
-shell-pitted ground. But on reaching our trench, my memory lapsed, and
-down I sank with my burden.
-
-My first thought on recovering was of Jot. I had caught but one
-transient glimpse of him during the fight.
-
-“Where’s Jot?” I asked. Then, seeing that they didn’t understand I
-added, “Lieutenant Nickerson, I mean?”
-
-No reply was given.
-
-“Can you walk?” some one asked.
-
-“I guess I can,” I answered; “I came over here with a man over my
-shoulder. I can walk.”
-
-“I think,” said Sutherland, “that I had better carry you pig-a-back;
-these trenches are too narrow for a stretcher. There’s a bullet hole in
-the breast of your coat. You are shot.”
-
-“Nonsense!” I said, “I can walk; but I have an awful sore spot under my
-vest pocket; something knocked the breath out of me for a spell.”
-
-Arriving at the first aid station, with Sutherland’s help, my upper
-clothing was stripped off and out fell a bullet! It had struck my
-watch, broken the crystal, smashed the works, and left a big dent in
-the case, almost half as deep as a thimble. It was directly over my
-heart. The watch had saved my life. It had been my father’s watch,
-presented to him by his company in the Civil War.
-
-“Carry him to the Clearing Station,” I heard some one say.
-
-In attempting to get up from my seat after the examination, I fell
-again. I fancied that I heard the Surgeon say, “Collapse!” Then, once
-more, everything faded, and next I found myself in a white still place
-with many cots. It was a hospital.
-
-“What’s the matter, doctor?” I inquired; “what’s happened to me?”
-
-“Bad collapse; need rest. I wonder you did not drop dead, carrying a
-man on your shoulder across No Man’s Land after that hurt.”
-
-One unpleasant fact was evident to me, and that was, I was in the
-clutches of a surgeon. I always did hate doctors.
-
-I got up, looked in a little mirror to smooth my hair, and started back
-to see a pale face looking out at me. I turned to go out of the door,
-but was confronted by a blue-eyed Red Cross nurse and a burly attendant.
-
-“Let me alone,” I protested, “I want to see how my friend, Lieutenant
-Nickerson, got out of the fight.”
-
-The nurse pointed, as a reply, to a near-by cot where a still form lay.
-“What’s the matter!” I exclaimed, striding to the cot. “Who is it?”
-
-I needed no answer, it was Jot.
-
-“What’s the matter?” I again cried. “Is he dead?”
-
-“No,” said the surgeon; “only stunned; concussion of the brain from a
-heavy blow. He will be all right with proper attention, after a while.”
-
-“How did he get here?”
-
-“Why, don’t you know?” he answered. “They said that _you_ brought him
-across No Man’s Land almost on a run.”
-
-Thus it was I came to know that the comrade I had brought back into our
-trench was my friend, Jot.
-
-I stayed in the hospital for several days, during which time they fed
-me on light stuff, as though I were an infant, instead of a full-sized
-doughboy, and I was losing strength. I wouldn’t have stayed there
-contentedly that long, but to assure myself of Jot’s recovery. Then I
-kicked.
-
-“There is nothing the matter with me, doctor, except I am faint with
-hunger. I shall starve unless you give me something man’s size to eat!”
-
-“Give him something hearty,--an egg on toast,” ordered the doctor, “and
-keep him quiet.”
-
-Then I knew I was in for “low diet” some more.
-
-“Lieutenant Nickerson wants to see you,” said the nurse. So I went to
-his cot.
-
-“What is it, Jot? Are you better?”
-
-“Head’s a little sore, but otherwise fit as a fiddle!”
-
-“Well, look out,” I said, “or the doctor will starve you.”
-
-Jot smiled, and then said, “I want to thank you for saving my life. You
-have always managed to stand between me and trouble from the first; and
-now you have got between me and death, Davie.”
-
-“Why,” I replied, “I didn’t even know it was you, until after I got
-here. I was in a hurry when I slung you over my shoulder. Your face was
-downward. So you needn’t thank me for it; but I am as thankful as you
-that I did it. I fixed that big Boche that was swinging his rifle for a
-club, though.” Then I told him about it.
-
-“You always were good and brave, Davie.”
-
-“There is where you are out, this time, Jot,” I said. “Don’t tell any
-one; but I was awful scared before we started for the Boche trench. I
-would have run away had I dared. I suppose courage is a cumulative
-thing, mine had to be given time to accumulate.”
-
-Jot lay back and laughed.
-
-“You needn’t laugh,” I said. “It is true as gospel, and I am ashamed to
-let you know, I was a dreadful coward; but it is true!”
-
-After feeding on thin soup and a single egg on toast for breakfast, for
-a week, I bribed the nurse to give me a beefsteak and some potatoes
-and, on that forbidden diet, grew so strong that I got my discharge
-from the hospital in a day or two.
-
-I am sincerely convinced that the most of my faintness was from
-underfeeding,--sheer hunger. But that theorist of a doctor would not
-believe it and thought his low diet and medicines had helped me to a
-rapid recovery.
-
-I was glad to get back to my company again, and to receive the rough
-but hearty congratulations of my comrades.
-
-“You still look pale,” said Sutherland. “Are you feeling all right now?”
-
-“Yes,” I replied. “You’d look as pale as I do if they had fed you on
-air. When’s mess?”
-
-I saw the boys grin, for I had the reputation of being a good feeder;
-but I was surely glad to get back to plain, hearty army rations again.
-
-So it was that I again took up my duties with a heartiness that, before
-going “over the top,” I had been a trifle lacking in.
-
-I learned that on counting noses three of our company were killed and
-seven wounded.
-
-We talked about that skirmish so much that the woman who owned the barn
-where we had our billet complained, because her cow couldn’t sleep. And
-after all the talk, there was not much of an understanding about the
-fight; for a soldier does not see much that is taking place in battle a
-great way from his nose. What we afterwards saw dwarfed this first call
-on the Boches; but a first experience leaves a deep impression.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X IN REST BILLET
-
-
-After our first call on the Boches, we enjoyed the rest and
-recuperation of our billets.
-
-“This cow barn,” said Corporal Sutherland, “seems like a good thing
-after being in the trenches; don’t it?”
-
-“An’ faith it does,” said Quinn; “but a fine tooth comb would improve
-it.”
-
-“Pat,” said Dean, facetiously, “is related to that countryman of his
-who found fault because he was to be hanged.”
-
-No sky is perfect without a few clouds; but we had an overshadowing one
-because we did not get letters from home. There had been complaint ever
-since the American Expeditionary Force first landed in France, that our
-letters did not reach us as quickly as they should.
-
-Some mail had just come in, however, and the boys were gladdened by the
-news.
-
-“Just got some letters from home,” said Corporal Sutherland, “and I
-am mighty glad to get them, though they are so old they are like last
-year’s birds’ nests.”
-
-“What’s the matter with our mail service?” queried Shaw. “The poilus
-get their letters regularly, I am told.”
-
-“The poilus manage their mail better, because it is distributed by
-women who are in sympathy with their boys; so their letters don’t have
-to wait until they are cold and dead with old age,” said Sutherland.
-“They reach them warm from the hearts of those who write them; and I
-believe that is what gives the blue devils, as the Boches call them,
-courage to fight so well.”
-
-I was fortunate to get some letters from home and a box of goodies,
-among which was some spruce gum and a quart can of maple sugar right
-from the hills of Chester. You may infer that I enjoyed these good
-things after so lately having come from the hospital!
-
-The little French woman, in whose barn we were billeted, was the wife
-of a French soldier. She had three children ranging in ages from three
-to seven years. Our men petted the kiddies and shared their rations
-with them.
-
-I shared my goodies with the children much to their delight. I was very
-fond of little four-year-old Marie, who was as pretty as a picture and
-loved sweet things. One day I was having a great frolic with her. Her
-face was smeared with chocolate and maple sugar, and a circle of dirt,
-mingled with the sticky sweets, formed a halo around her pretty mouth.
-She was in high glee over the possession of peppermints and a doughnut,
-which was almost as hard as the chocolate.
-
-I was dancing her in my arms, and she was piping like a little canary
-in attempting to express her delight, when I encountered a French
-soldier who, to my embarrassment, hugged me and kissed me on either
-cheek. This is to the French the same as a hearty handshake with us.
-
-“I am so glad,” he said in broken English, “to see you. The madame
-has told me in her letters how good you Americans have all been to my
-children and to her.”
-
-He told me that he had lived in New York for a time before he was
-married, and loved my country and its good people. He was on a short
-leave of absence to see his family. He said he had been a little
-jealous, when his wife had told him about the kindness of the Americans
-who were billeted at his home.
-
-One day while I was sitting on a bench by my quarters, holding the
-little girl and talking to her father, a slim black-eyed young man came
-up, and abruptly said, “Good morning, sirs!”
-
-I looked distrustfully at him, for we had been warned against
-English-speaking German spies, and then opened my eyes with
-astonishment, for he looked as much like my friend, Jot, as one English
-sparrow looks like another.
-
-“Who are you?” I inquired. “What do you want?”
-
-“I am on important business,” he responded politely, “for the army.”
-
-“What do you mean by that?” I said. “Are you an American?”
-
-“I was born in America,” he replied with indescribable dignity, “and
-have lived there a good part of my life. But I was educated on this
-side.”
-
-Then I remembered what Jot had told me about his half-brother’s
-resemblance to himself and I distrusted him all the more.
-
-“Where’s your uniform?” I asked. “Why are you in citizen’s dress?”
-
-For answer he pointed to a loosely hanging sleeve.
-
-I turned my head to speak to my French friend, but found him gone; and
-then, turning back again, found the man I had been talking to had also
-vanished. I could not understand how he had disappeared so quickly, and
-this added to my suspicion that he was not straight.
-
-When I again saw the French soldier, Maurice, I said, “Where did
-you go so quickly? You were standing near me and in an instant had
-disappeared.”
-
-He shrugged his shoulders and replied, “It would not be, as your people
-say, ‘just the thing,’ to listen to your conversation with another
-gentleman.”
-
-Knowing something of a Frenchman’s idea of politeness that seemed to
-explain his sudden leaving.
-
-As soon as I got a chance from my duties, I started to see Jot. He
-had been discharged from the hospital, I had learned, but I had not
-seen him since he came back on duty. Passing the guard I stood before
-Lieutenant Nickerson and saluted as stiffly as possible, and waited
-until addressed by my superior officer. Jot returned the salute and,
-coming up to me, put his hands on my shoulder, saying, “No formalities,
-Davie, now that we are by ourselves. What is it that makes you look
-so confoundedly troubled? Have the rations given out, or what is the
-matter?”
-
-Then I told him about the man who so much resembled him.
-
-He stood for a moment as though meditating what to say, and then
-replied, “It’s all right, David; I have seen him, too.”
-
-“Is he your half-brother with whom you told me you could not agree?”
-
-“We may not have been able to agree, but it does not follow that he is
-not straight and a patriot, does it? We may be in agreement in a large
-way, if not in little ones?”
-
-I felt, knowing Jot’s habitual reserve, that it would be of no use to
-question him further, and as he had not really told me anything, I was
-much confused and uncertain what it all meant.
-
-“Well, Lieutenant,” I said stiffly, “I feel it my duty to report these
-facts to Colonel Burbank.”
-
-“That’s not military,” he said. “You must report them first to your
-captain, and he will report them to the colonel.”
-
-“Oh, confound the red tape!” I said. “Can’t I report to the colonel in
-some way, without passing it around the red-tape ring?”
-
-“Yes,” responded Jot, somewhat to my surprise, “the colonel was saying
-that he would like to see that watch of yours, that the Boche spoiled
-and told me to send you to his quarters some time.”
-
-Then he came to me once more, and, grasping my hand, with a look of
-love on his high-bred face, said, “Do what your New England conscience
-dictates and God be with you, Davie. I wish I could see more of you.
-But whatever happens, remember that I am always your friend.”
-
-Reaching Colonel Burbank’s quarters, I sent word by the orderly that I
-was present to take his orders, if he wished to give any, and, also had
-something important to communicate.
-
-On reaching Colonel Burbank, I clicked my heels, saluted, and waited to
-be addressed by my colonel.
-
-“What is it, Sergeant Stark? What do you wish to communicate?”
-
-“I took the liberty of coming here because I was told that you wished
-to see me.”
-
-“That will keep,” he replied and repeated his inquiry. Then I briefly
-told him what I have here narrated.
-
-To my surprise he said, “I have seen the man this morning. It was right
-for you to report the matter, and I am glad that you did not report it
-in the usual way. You will not mention to any one what you have heard
-or know of this affair,” he commanded, “or it might do harm.”
-
-Then he gravely said, as though to dismiss further talk about it, “I
-have learned about your gallant conduct during the raid on the enemy
-trench, and am pleased with you, and congratulate you.”
-
-Just then Muddy rushed in like a miniature cyclone, circled around me,
-barking, as much as to say, “I have found you!” and then jumped into
-the colonel’s lap.
-
-“He comes here once in a while,” explained the colonel, “and this is
-the way he salutes.”
-
-Then rising, he came to me and said: “I would like to see that watch.”
-
-“It isn’t a watch any more,” I said; “it’s a ruin.”
-
-And I took it out and handed it to him.
-
-“So I see,” he said, examining an inscription on the inner case,
-and then reading aloud, “‘Presented to Captain David Stark by his
-comrades and admirers.’ Yes,” he added, musingly, “it is the same that
-my father, with others, gave to him after the battle of Winchester,
-during the Shenandoah Campaign under General Sheridan. Do you know that
-Captain Stark saved my father’s life?”
-
-Then he turned away as though to examine the inscription under better
-light, but I saw a tear in his eye, and I was proud of my father.
-
-As I turned to go, he added, “I have heard my father tell about making
-the presentation of that watch, and am pleased to see it; I am sure he
-will be glad as I am, that his friend’s son has proved himself worthy
-to wear it, and that it has saved his life. Now as a favor to me--will
-you allow me to have the watch repaired for you?”
-
-I felt a lump rise in my throat. The eagle was asking a favor of me!
-
-I did not get a chance, and did not much care to tell, how little I
-really deserved all that my colonel said; and how scared I had been
-before the fight. But I thought of a saying of mother’s: “How much
-praise is often given to those who do not deserve it.” I determined,
-however, to try to live up to the reputation that chance had given me.
-
-Afterwards, telling Jot about the Colonel’s compliments, I said: “As
-Bill Jenkins used to say, ‘I felt as mean as pussley.’”
-
-“That’s just like you!” said Jot. “Don’t you remember about your
-leaving some bunches of grass unmowed where there were bumblebees,
-and getting Bill Jenkins to get into them by telling him that you had
-left them as fancy spots? Bill said, ‘Confound your fancy spots!’ and
-pitched into them, and got all stung up. And you lay awake that night
-laughing and repenting by turns? The difference between you and some
-other cowards is that you are mostly scared before a fight and they are
-scared when in a fight.”
-
-“What is the reason,” I said, “that I am so scared before a fight?”
-
-“A vivid imagination,” replied Jot; “and borrowing troubles before they
-come.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI A SIX WEEKS’ HIKE THROUGH FRANCE
-
-
-Lists of men were being made. Officers were hurrying with papers.
-
-An order had come. There was cleaning of rifles and machine-guns,
-washing of clothes, inspection, and making up of packs preparatory to a
-march.
-
-Several sick and wounded men were returned from the hospital as fit for
-duty. Among these was Private Beaudett, whose hurt had been a clean gun
-shot wound which was not entirely healed but the doctors, at his urgent
-request, had discharged him as again fit for duty. We were glad to
-greet him and have him with us once more.
-
-A cheerful, hopeful man like him, one who sees the bright side of every
-hardship, and who has a stock of good humor, and fun in him, puts a
-valuable addition of cheerfulness and life into a company of soldiers.
-This characteristic can neither be measured, nor weighed. It is called
-its _morale_. Napoleon said that an army with this imponderable
-quality, made up in part of hope, cheerfulness and confidence in itself
-and its commander, was worth, in actual service, three times as much as
-an army without it.
-
-No doubt it was this fun-loving and fun-seeing quality that had
-conduced to Beaudett’s quick recovery from his wound.
-
-“An’ sure,” said Pat Quinn, “ye’s look as good as new, ye little son of
-a gun.”
-
-“Yes, be Shorge! pretty much better for muche good companee of Red
-Cross leetle nurse; an’ I cheets him doctor and de bugs,” responded
-Beaudett with a significant scratch and a grin; “_Oui_, I have none of
-he.”
-
-“We will be generous,” said Corporal Sutherland with a wink, “and share
-our cooties with you. So you can begin scratching at once.”
-
-And he did!
-
-The rain poured down in torrents, and with a persistence worthy of
-even France in war, when we began our march. For neither weather, nor
-general or special orders, have the least regard for the soldiers’
-comfort in emergencies; and no more consults their convenience than a
-brigadier general does a mule or an auto truck.
-
-The whitish clay stuck to our feet, magnifying them in both size and
-weight to such a degree that when, at one time, we halted for rest in a
-village Pat Quinn looked ruefully downward, and said: “It’s them that
-look like big loaves of gingerbread before they are patted into shape.
-An’ sure how will I iver know them again for me feet?”
-
-“A bog trotter like you,” said Sutherland roughly, “ought to be
-thankful for good clean mud like this.”
-
-And then, had not the mud been so vexingly deep, there would have been
-a quarrel.
-
-That night we halted in a downpour of rain in a small village, wet,
-tired and hungry, our packs and feet increased in weight by mud and
-water.
-
-But our hunger was soon satisfied by a plentiful supply of steaming
-hot stew with coffee and bread from our kitchen on wheels. Men sing of
-sparkling wine; but I have never tasted anything that equalled good
-army chow and fragrant coffee for comfort, after a long march.
-
-Most of our men smoked, as soldiers generally do; but Lieutenant
-Nickerson and I, and strange to say, Quinn, were exceptions to this
-general rule, and did not use tobacco or whiskey. An Irishman who
-neither smokes nor drinks, as Peter Beaudett said, “Was de queer bug,
-begar!”
-
-Pat’s explanation of this was, “Me mither tould me I had better not get
-the habit of smoking or drinking, or I might get where I could not get
-either whiskey or tobacco.”
-
-Those soldiers who do smoke say there is great solace in a pipe, but to
-my mind a soldier with the fewest artificial wants, is, on the whole,
-the most easily comforted.
-
-We soon began to see some of the destruction that grim-visaged war had
-dealt out to battle-scarred France.
-
-We had halted in a litter of shattered stone and plastered houses which
-was once a village. The walls were in unpicturesque ruin. Very few
-houses had roofs, and but few walls were standing. Yet we found several
-families still clinging to what had once been their homes, reluctant
-to leave the ground whereon had stood their dwellings, and which had
-sheltered, no doubt, several generations of their kind. These homes,
-and even the gardens, trees and vines were torn from the soil. Orchards
-and vineyards that had borne fruit for them and their children were cut
-down by shot and shell or, with German thoroughness, had been sawed
-down so that they would never again bring sustaining comforts to them.
-
-At the place where my platoon was quartered was a black eyed, sad-faced
-little woman, with a family of small children, living in a cellar.
-Her mournful face lit up and her eyes sparkled, at the sight of our
-friendly faces and uniforms--and for one day, at least, neither she nor
-her little ones were hungry. For we shared our rations with them and
-gave to them all that we could spare when we resumed our march in the
-morning.
-
-This first glimpse of a ruined village left a deep impression on us.
-The surpassing brutality of it all! The homes, the factories and
-churches, the gardens and orchards and vineyards to which so much
-loving care had been given, can never be replaced to those whose loving
-work and sacrifice created them. The needless cruelty of it seemed to
-us, so recently from the safe shelter of American homes, almost beyond
-belief.
-
-On our next day’s march we passed through several such ruined villages;
-and, in the intervening country, had found women and old men working on
-their little farms, with faith in their armies and brave soldiers that
-was wonderful and pathetic.
-
-Later we found peasants laboring to raise crops on land not over a mile
-from the trenches where battles raged.
-
-And all through our march through ruined France were white-aproned
-women sitting in ruined doorways, or in huts of corrugated sheet iron
-sewing and knitting for their children, or for their absent loved
-ones fighting for “beautiful France.” Though their part of it was
-blighted by the invader, they were clinging to their ruined homes with
-a tenacity of faith in their armies almost beyond belief. The love of
-home and country was stronger in their hearts than the fear of death.
-
-It was well for them and us that we saw these things, for it
-strengthened our resolve to fight to the death those who had blighted
-these homes. So we marched on, in storm and sunshine, observing all
-these bitter cruelties, gaining with every step new resolution to
-rescue France from her brutal invaders.
-
-It seems to me that the German authorities, who sanctioned all the
-cruelties of this war, little comprehended how firm a friend they
-were making of America for France, and how steadfast an enemy for
-themselves, when their pitiless hands were laid on all that is sacred
-in humanity, love, and religion.
-
-At one mass of ruined homes, where we had halted, we were sheltered for
-a night in the wine cellars. One of the cellars the Germans had used
-as a range-finder. These cellars were so vast, that even the German
-hordes had not been able to deplete its stores of wine by their thirsty
-demands, though their destructiveness was seen on every side.
-
-We passed through town after town without roofs to the houses and with
-precious little of the walls left standing. All the orchards were
-relentlessly cut or sawed down, leaving behind them little of value
-save the unconquerable spirit of their brave and home-loving people.
-
-We slept in barns and houses and under the unroofed sky, as we halted
-on our march. At one of our halting places, after a fatiguing day,
-we slept in an immense electric-lighted cave, big enough to shelter
-several thousand people.
-
-It had been excavated, we were told, by French soldiers,--prisoners of
-war, under the direction of their German taskmasters. It was divided
-into rooms, in many cases luxuriously fitted with baths, bed furniture,
-rugs, and set bowls with water.
-
-Apparently all the material for its furnishing was plundered from
-destroyed villages and near-by homes. Some of these were left with
-scrupulous care, as though their German occupants expected to return
-and resume their use. In several of these were insulting inscriptions
-such as “Gottstrafe England, der Schweinhund!”
-
-Jot was with me while I was viewing these wonderful excavations, and
-translated for me some of the inscriptions which do not bear repeating.
-
-I was so indignant that I hastily said to Jot, “I should be ashamed to
-speak the language of such brutes!”
-
-To which Jot replied, “If those who speak German were as noble as their
-language, I could almost forgive them their trespasses.” And then, as
-though excusing them, quoted a sentence from my Latin reader, “In the
-midst of wars the laws are silent.”
-
-After two weeks’ march through ruined France, the scenes began to
-change. Villages and cities unscathed by war’s blighting touch began to
-appear along our line of march. These were all the more beautiful by
-contrast with those scorched and withered by the destroying hand of the
-Hun.
-
-Stately palace-like residences, lovely châteaus, vine-clad cottages,
-stately public buildings and churches, appeared in vivid contrast
-to the war-ruined villages over which war had spread its wings of
-desolation.
-
-We saw many sad faces and heard many sad stories from the brave
-daughters of France, mothers of heroes then contending with the
-German hordes. But their faces brightened at the sight of our flag.
-They recognized it as the emblem of freedom, and those who bore it as
-faithful allies and friends. Matrons, young women, girls, and children
-thronged around us at every halting place. Some offered us food, others
-wreaths and bouquets, and all greeted us with glad smiles and cheers of
-welcome.
-
-We had halted, stacked arms, and thrown ourselves sprawling upon the
-ground among the vine-covered cottages when, on a little plateau above
-us, we saw a fluttering of the stars and stripes from the roof of an
-unpretentious dwelling. Then word ran around that it was the home of
-an American woman. Soon there appeared a little matron whose face and
-bearing proclaimed her nationality--American!
-
-Nothing in all France with its grandeur and beauty of ages had looked
-so fine to our eyes as this little unassuming American lady. She was
-attended by her French maid, who, judging by her acts and expressions
-was devoted to her. We gave her a reception fit for a queen, and in
-return were treated to coffee in delicate china, and dainty sandwiches,
-and slices of fragrant American ham. Never to me or my comrades had the
-American woman and American language, seemed so dear as when in this
-distant land she had brought to us a breath of home.
-
-A few more days of marching brought us again to the sound of battle and
-the distant booming of guns. Here again were signs of war’s withering
-touch. We began to meet hurrying French and American battalions with
-cannon, machine guns, airplanes, and all the seeming clutter of moving
-columns. Here and there were fleeing citizens, mostly women, old men
-and children, with wagons piled high with their household goods.
-
-Airplanes were soaring like the white sea-gulls we had seen when
-leaving New York harbor. They flew singly and in flocks, some so high
-as to be but dimly seen, others swooping down as though about to attack
-us. These latter were said to be German craft in search of information.
-
-Nearer and nearer came the boom! boom! boom of the guns. Then, late
-that evening, we were assigned to billets, and knew that our long hike
-was over, and that we were again confronted by the enemy.
-
-Thus ended our six weeks’ march through France.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII ON THE BATTLE LINES
-
-
-We had come to a halt near a beautiful village, with vine-clad cottages
-and an old château; and were quartered in billets and temporary
-barracks.
-
-“Have you seen this?” said our French lieutenant interpreter, whom we
-met as we were on our way to the “Y”.
-
-“What is it about?” we answered, Yankee fashion, by asking another
-question.
-
-In reply, he translated from a French newspaper he held in his hand,
-the message of General Pershing tendering to General Foch all the
-American forces as follows: “_I come to say to you that the American
-people would hold it a great honor to her troops, if they were engaged
-in the present battle. Infantry, artillery, all are yours to dispose of
-as you will. Others are coming._”
-
-“That’s great!” was the general comment. And then we gave three rousing
-American cheers for our general, which drew a crowd of soldiers and
-citizens to inquire its cause.
-
-Then there was a general talk about the military situation, in which
-our captain took a part, and some of which I will repeat, to explain
-the situation.
-
-On Tuesday, March 21, 1918, the German army made its first great drive
-of the year, by concentrating an immense force consisting of one-half
-of its armies, on a fifty-mile front between the Scarp and the Oise
-rivers, and drove the British back before they could bring up their
-reserves to the point of attack.
-
-As the captain pointed out, an attacking force has always this
-advantage: that they can choose where and when to strike. And this made
-the task of quick concentration of forces to meet this overwhelming
-blow incredibly difficult.
-
-The English army had, however, by its stubborn resistance, made up in
-part for this difficulty. And, as compensation for its heavy losses,
-exacted a terrible reprisal of blood from its enemy.
-
-At the time of our arrival near the left flank of the German army,
-the attacking forces of the enemy, roughly outlined, was not unlike a
-gigantic U, the convex part of it pointing towards Amiens. The allied
-armies had not only the disadvantage of inferior numbers, but of
-difficult concentration. They must march around this curved line in
-order to concentrate at the point of attack. On the other hand, the foe
-could reinforce every part of his advanced line by marching men across
-the U.
-
-The captain’s talk helped us to understand the situation, and the
-reasons why we Americans were assembled in force.
-
-How, or when, we were to have a chance to prove our American temper,
-we did not know. But we did understand the power given to a united
-command. Though at first our work would be of minor importance, it was
-soon apparent that it was not to be that of holiday soldiers. We were
-to contend against an army of wonderful efficiency.
-
-“Dem guys,” said our New York boy, “can fight, an’ don’t you forgit it.
-We’s got to give them a wallup, or take some.”
-
-There was a general feeling that we must meet a supreme test. We had
-scarcely got into these trenches before there came a trial of endurance
-under fire. First a great flock of air craft, with inquisitive noses,
-came buzzing above us. Our big war birds, moving in spirals, flew up to
-meet them and, if possible, put them to flight. We could see, high in
-air, little puffs of smoke of gun fire; sometimes hear the chatter of
-machine-guns, and even the buzz of their propellers and sharp report of
-rifles, which showed that they were “out a-gunning.”
-
-Sweeping around in curved lines, circling upward, darting downward, the
-combating planes fought with daring temerity, a wonderful battle in
-the air. We saw one plane, struck by a bomb, fall fluttering downward
-a thousand feet, right itself, and escape over the lines. However tame
-this may seem in recital, it was a thrilling sight to see.
-
-At first, the enemy began to fire gas shells over us, and we had to put
-on our gas masks. Occasionally puffs of the poisonous stuff would reach
-us; but we were thankful that the shells were mostly going over our
-heads; for they were so numerous that they gave one continuous whistle.
-
-There came a burst of artillery that defies description. It did not
-seem possible that an ant could live under such a destructive fire.
-Shell, shot, and shrapnel scarred the ground as though there had been
-a series of eruptions. Then the Germans charged our lines, their
-green-gray uniforms so blending with the smoke and rocks and ground,
-that it was difficult to see them. They were like so many fog banks or
-moving rocks or roads, so completely did their color intermingle with
-their surroundings.
-
-Our artillery from the rear laid down a barrage with a terrific
-deafening roar like locomotives traveling the air above us. And now
-came the bugle call--over the top and at them--for which we had
-impatiently waited. Our nervous American temperament wanted action; we
-were at our best in attack, rather than in defense.
-
-The enemy received us with a storm of machine-gun and artillery fire,
-under which, for a time, it seemed as though nothing could live. We
-made quick rushes forward, then throwing ourselves upon the ground
-with such protection as was afforded by the land, opened fire,
-and then another rush forward, again throwing ourselves upon our
-faces,--“sprayed them” as one of our men called it, with rifle and
-machine-gun fire.
-
-Again we rushed forward until we could plainly see our targets. We gave
-them the best we had. It was sharp work; and apparently the enemy were
-not used to our Indian tactics, and did not relish it. Still we did not
-have it easy. Men fell before their gun fire. Others limped out of
-line, and headed for the first aid stations.
-
-The confusion of sounds made it almost impossible to hear the bugle
-calls. The enemy gathered himself together and rushed upon us again,
-leaving a trail of dead and wounded behind, so effective was our
-sharp-shooting. Still they came on with a rush, as though expecting to
-scatter us by their impetus. Seeing that we were outnumbered, we fell
-back to a rise, leaving two machine-guns behind.
-
-“That won’t do! We need those guns!” called out Lieutenant Nickerson,
-who was in command of our platoon.
-
-With several others I rushed forward under the cover of smoke clouds
-and rescued them. But they were out of order, and for the time being
-could not be used.
-
-Lieutenant Nickerson, a little in the rear, with his old mechanical
-dexterity stooped to rearrange their parts. He soon had them on the
-firing line with some of his own men to work them.
-
-Getting more ammunition for them from the machine-gun unit, their
-steady clatter was again heard “spitting bullets,” as Sam said, like
-mad rattlesnakes.
-
-It was hot work! When our line wavered under the enemy’s concentrated
-fire, our lieutenant placed himself in front of his platoon, and looked
-sternly in the faces of his men, with an indescribable magnetism, which
-seemed to hold them to their desperate work.
-
-The lobe of one of his ears had been cut almost away, and was bleeding
-profusely. Whether it was that, or the undaunted look in his face that
-inspirited them, the men broke into a hoarse cheer and again moved into
-line under a heavy fire.
-
-Our regiment, with others, had fallen back slightly, to a road, part of
-which gave us shelter by a low embankment.
-
-“Say,” said practical Sam Jenkins, “I saw a big roll of wire down the
-road a little way. Supposing we get it and twist it around these trees
-along the road.”
-
-The suggestion was adopted, and happily for our regiment and others
-too; for the Germans made one last effort to drive us from the field,
-and were checked before the fire we gave them from behind this
-barricade in front of the railroad embankment.
-
-We had suffered heavily. Many a good man had gone down, or had been
-carried, or had limped to the rear with desperate wounds. It was late
-when we at last repulsed the enemy and they had faded away before our
-fire, blending with the smoke behind them.
-
-Our men were exalted: their spirits rose high when they found that they
-had withstood the Hun in the open. Hoarse cheers ran down the line.
-“Shure,” said Pat Quinn, “Lieutenant dear; we bate the devils; but it
-was a toight squake.”
-
-“Aw,” said Goodwin, “you’s can bet we’s give ’em a wallup. Say! our
-lieutenant is great stuff, an’ don’t you forget it! T’ain’t so sure but
-that they’d knocked the stuffin’ out of us, but for him!”
-
-And that was the common agreement in our regiment.
-
-We were not a little proud of our company and ourselves. We had, as a
-whole, done well, and as Sam said, so we agreed, although it may seem
-boastful, “given the Boche their belly full of fighting” and we had
-gained new confidence in ourselves and our officers. We were gratified
-to get the praise of the French General, who was in command on the
-field, though I was not without suspicion that he gave us more praise
-than was our due. Then came word officially that the enemy had fallen
-back all along the line.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII IN THE TIDE OF BATTLE
-
-
-The end of the German drive on the western front, as my readers know,
-had failed to break the Allied lines. The enemy, however, had succeeded
-in driving them back for miles, inflicting and receiving great losses
-of men and material. To those who understood the situation, it must
-have been disheartening, though we in the ranks, of course, could know
-but little beyond that which was taking place before our eyes. The
-high officers, who did know, feared that the enemy, by the advantage
-of quicker concentration because of holding interior lines, might by
-successive drives be able to force their army so near Paris as to
-endanger the city, or, on the farther western front, be able to reach
-the channel ports and thus divide the Allied armies.
-
-It was while victory was trembling in the balance on the far-flung
-battle lines, that our regiment was called to battle.
-
-We removed from ground we occupied to a point west of an ancient city,
-not far from a river.
-
-Regiments of French and American soldiers were marching on the roads
-to places assigned them. Machine-gun emplacements were being made.
-The effective light guns were hurrying into place. Here and there
-cavalry was sparsely seen. Engineers, with their sappers and miners
-with shovels and picks, moved along with pontoon trains of collapsible
-canvas boats and wooden batteaux for bridges. Here and there were
-pitiful families of refugees, with wagons high piled with household
-goods, escaping from homes about to be swept by the fiery tide of war.
-The women with babes in arms, and children hugging rag dolls and toys,
-were straggling on in pathetic groups.
-
-To the ordinary eye all seemed confusion, but there was a thread of
-order controlling this mass of moving material and men.
-
-“This is going to be a sure enough battle,” remarked Corporal
-Sutherland.
-
-“Not for us,” said a lieutenant; “we shall get in the edges of it,
-possibly.”
-
-“We have got to do our best today,” said our “Top.” “They,”--making a
-gesture toward the French regiments--“are watching us.”
-
-“They will find fighting stuff here,” proudly replied the lieutenant.
-And our captain, looking along his halted company with a critical but
-satisfied glance, said, “They will do!”
-
-An enemy airplane, hovering high in air, viewed us. Several of our
-craft flew upward in circling flight to punish his inquisitiveness.
-Near us marched a regiment whose uniforms and long strides showed them
-to be Americans. Some horses were passing with the marching column.
-Muddy flew out, barking vociferously. One of the horses gave a whinney
-of recognition, as the dog jumped and yelped at his head.
-
-“I think it is ‘Jack,’ our colt!” I said to Lieutenant Nickerson.
-
-“I think so too,” he replied. But we had no time to investigate; we had
-more serious business, for the uproar of battle had already begun.
-
-With other regiments we moved forward and were halted behind a small
-clump of trees. But not for long, for the Boches wanted the ground. Gas
-shells came whistling over us and we quickly adjusted our gas masks.
-We were so grotesque that again a laugh was heard along the line, and
-jokes were exchanged.
-
-“Even the officers,” said Sutherland, “have to hide their glory in
-these things.”
-
-“I hate ’em,” said Sam Jenkins; “they interfere with a good aim!”
-
-Then came the thunderous roar of guns from our rear, and the replies
-of the enemy, who had not, as yet, got our range. Followed the chatter
-of machine-guns and the mingling rifle fire of contending men on our
-front. Some of our men upon trees, observing, reported long lines of
-German infantry in sight. Then broken French troops appeared, slowly
-and doggedly falling back.
-
-The German lines sweeping onward, we open on the mass with our light
-guns, machine-guns and rifles. Our gun fire, increasing in intensity
-and deadly effect, did not halt them. On they came, their green-gray
-uniforms blending with the smoke and mists. All our weapons sharply
-spoke, but still the foggy columns advanced their heavy guns from
-the rear scarring and pitting the ground on our front. Explosions
-threatened our annihilation, while lurid flames sprang up on all
-sides. We clung to the ground as though fearing that we might go up in
-some of the explosions or be consumed by the flames.
-
-Then the welcome order came to “Charge!” and we went forward in open
-formation at quick time. I noticed Chaplain John in line. You could
-always reckon on him to care for the wounded, though he carried no
-arms. The Boche doesn’t like cold steel and he breaks as we rush upon
-him with yells and gleaming bayonets. We had one thought and one
-purpose: we must beat and drive the enemy. We were but a small part of
-the advancing line that was in the attack. We were near enough to see
-shells from our guns explode on their front, and men, and fragments of
-men, hurled in the air, leaving gaps in their ranks. Our gun fire was
-immense. For an instant the gray mass wavered and then fell back.
-
-A hoarse shout went up from American throats, “We’ve licked them!” But
-the French, more experienced in battle, were not so confident. The
-enemy have only halted to reform their shattered line. We also halted
-and then the order came to fall back to conform to the rest of the line.
-
-We reformed our line, disordered by the advance; stretcher bearers
-gathered the wounded. Others limped to the rear with reversed rifle for
-crutches, or were helped by comrades.
-
-Soon the enemy opened fire again with violence. Muddy, despite his
-fear, came barking and nipping at my puttees. “What’s the matter?” I
-heard some one inquire. “Where is the Sky pilot?” He had been left
-behind helping a wounded or dying man. Muddy pulled at my coat. A look
-from Jot, and I followed the dog through the screen of sulphur-white
-smoke that hung over the field. I advanced cautiously and the dog,
-as though understanding the necessity for silence, did not bark. I
-followed, slowly peering into every shell hole and depression as I
-cautiously went forward, with bullets humming on every side and an
-occasional exploding shell. Then I saw a prostrate form beside a dead
-man stir.
-
-Up to that time I had been careful; but then, forgetful of everything
-but that my friend, our loved Chaplain, was lying there unsheltered,
-I threw off caution and hurried to him. He was alive but apparently
-desperately wounded. His head, legs and arms seemed unhurt, but I saw a
-gaping hole in his coat through the right side. Tearing away the coat,
-with my stock of first aid lint and bandages I stopped the bleeding as
-best I could. The smoke was clearing, and I must act quickly.
-
-Lying down, I got him on my back, and on hands and knees backed away
-towards a shell hole a few yards distant. I made it. Then, believing
-that the enemy would conclude that I would remain there, I gathered him
-in my arms and ran to another shell hole still nearer our lines. Before
-reaching it the bullets hummed around me like angry hornets. There I
-rested a little, and then ran on to another more distant depression in
-the ground.
-
-Up to this time I did not know that I had been hit, though I had felt
-something like a sharp blow strike my hip. Now I felt a warm trickle
-of blood down my leg, and knew that I was wounded and that I must reach
-our sheltering lines in one desperate run, if at all. If my strength
-would only last!
-
-With a full breath and with desperate resolution, I ran with my burden,
-the hum of bullets from snipers saluting. I gripped my nerve and shut
-my teeth. Could I reach a place of safety? I had made good progress,
-but my eyes blurred and I began to waver in spite of all my will. At
-last as I swayed and fell, I heard the welcoming shout of comrades.
-Then I fainted.
-
-When I recovered consciousness I found a surgeon fishing around in my
-hip for bullets.
-
-“How is the chaplain?” I asked.
-
-“Don’t know,” said the surgeon laconically; “another surgeon has his
-case.”
-
-“I must see,” I said, trying to get to my feet; for I felt, as wounded
-men often do, that my wound was not a serious one.
-
-Next it occurred to me that I was again under a surgeon, and that
-another starvation time was before me; and it made me mad.
-
-“Let me alone!” I cried, “I want you to understand that I am not dead
-yet. I want to find out about the Sky Pilot!”
-
-“Be calm,” said the surgeon, “and I will send around and see.”
-
-I must have become unconscious again; for the next I knew I was in a
-white bed, with other white cots, and a white-dressed nurse attending.
-I was in a hospital.
-
-“How came I here?”
-
-“You were brought in a minute ago,” said the nurse, “and you are to be
-kept quiet. Here, take this drink.”
-
-“No,” I said, smelling of it. “It will put me to sleep. I want to see
-how the chaplain is!
-
-“He is all right,” answered the nurse. “I was told to tell you so.”
-
-“All right,” I said, pushing away the drink. “Then I shan’t need that
-stuff to keep me quiet.”
-
-This surgeon did not turn out so bad, after all. He at least gave me
-enough to eat; and I was told that I would be all right in a few months!
-
-“I guess I will!” I said. “I am not hurt very bad, and I will be up
-sooner than that. I know it by my feelings.” And I was!
-
-I was pretty cross for a while because they would not let me get up and
-walk around.
-
-“It is a clean wound,” said the doctor, “and you are an uncommonly
-healthy boy.”
-
-“Boy!” I said, “I am a man, and I feel fit to go now.”
-
-But that surgeon was of another opinion. “A friend of yours,” said
-he, “a lieutenant, and another officer from the chaplain, have been
-inquiring for you.”
-
-“Why didn’t you let Lieutenant Nickerson in here with the dog?” I
-asked--for I knew Muddy would stick with Jot--“I want to see them.”
-
-Next day Muddy was actually admitted with Jot, and both of them made a
-lot of fuss over me.
-
-“All of our men say that it was the bravest thing they ever saw,”
-praised Jot.
-
-“Nonsense!” I said, “to tell the truth, Jot, I was so busy thinking how
-to get the chaplain back that I absolutely forgot to be scared.”
-
-Jot laughed and said, “Colonel Burbank sends his compliments, and
-regrets for your wound, and says ‘like father like son.’”
-
-And that to me was the best praise of all.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV THE CROIX DE GUERRE
-
-
-The bullet that put me in the hospital for several weeks had struck
-the fleshy part of my hip, glanced off from the bone, and had been
-extracted from the side. While a clean wound, I had lost a good deal of
-blood and this had weakened me.
-
-Just after the doctors had diagnosed my case and had discouraged me,
-Jot came in again to see me. I told him that I had hoped to stay in
-the service long enough to win a commission, but that the doctors were
-determined to have me tied up by my leg for several months; and that
-the war might be over before I could get back to duty again.
-
-“Don’t worry,” said Jot. “There will be enough fighting to last until
-you get onto your legs again. I guess the saw bones have camouflaged
-their description of your wound with their Latin, so that what is
-really a mole hill of a wound is made to look like a mountain, and have
-frightened you.”
-
-“No,” I said “not frightened, but discouraged me.”
-
-The chaplain’s wound was much more serious, though the doctors thought
-he would be able to resume his duties again if his wound healed as
-well as they expected. But they made so many qualifications that I
-mistrusted they were in the fog about it themselves.
-
-I was getting well fast; but was, as the surgeon said, “subconsciously
-restless.” The truth was, I could have sat up if they had let me. But
-they had me down! They were in command and there I was, like a healthy
-pup tied by the leg, and only able to run to the end of his string and
-yelp.
-
-It was three weeks before I was allowed to sit up!
-
-When the surgeon came to me I said, “Doctor, what is the matter with my
-getting out in the sun and having a breath of good air? I feel as well
-as I ever did.”
-
-The doctor, with cat-like softness, gave me a number of alarm calls in
-camouflaged language, which really meant, “Your quick recovery depends
-on obeying our orders, and keeping quiet!”
-
-All things have an end, however, and after a few weeks, that seemed
-months to me, I was allowed to get out into pure air. The nurse and
-doctor had not been so very bad, after all my growling. They had given
-me good things to eat, though a little stingy with mutton chops and
-beefsteaks; but I had plenty of good food.
-
-Then I called on the chaplain, at his request. He was looking pale and
-peaked but his courage was good. He was a fine fellow with a lot of
-stuff in him besides common sense. He did not make me feel shame-faced
-by “plastering it on” about my bringing him into our lines, nor make
-any fuss over me at all, for he understood. It was just what he, or any
-other decent man, would have done under similar circumstances.
-
-Later the colonel sent his orderly to bring me to his office. He was
-another sensible man!
-
-I stood at attention and saluted.
-
-“You are looking fine, Sergeant,” he said, “and I am glad to see you
-looking so fit!”
-
-“Yes, Colonel,” I answered, “a flesh wound should not keep a man tied
-up long. I am ready for duty now.”
-
-“Sit down,” he invited me; and just then Muddy rushed in and made a
-fuss over me; he had been living with the colonel since I had been tied
-up by my leg.
-
-“I have good news for you, that I may as well tell you now,” he
-continued.
-
-“The French general has recommended you for the _Croix de Guerre_.”
-
-“I’d be glad to get one,” I stammered “if they think that I really
-deserve it, Colonel.”
-
-“Oh, I think that’s all right,” he replied. “You did a good act and
-saved a good man. The regiment couldn’t spare its chaplain.”
-
-“Yes,” I said, “the chaplain is a brave, good man. I hope that doctor
-he is under won’t starve him as he did me, the other time I was hurt.”
-
-“I don’t think he will,” said the colonel, smiling as though amused at
-something. Then, after a pause, he continued. “There is a possibility
-that I may be given a higher command than this, and in that case I may
-wish you to serve with me.”
-
-“I shall be glad to serve you, Colonel, in any place I can fill,” I
-answered, rising and saluting.
-
-I felt pretty good. Had it not been undignified and my hip still
-hurting a little I would have ran and jumped.
-
-It was part of the system of our Expeditionary Force in France that,
-every four months, soldiers were to be granted a few days’ leave and
-though I had been in the service much longer than that time, I had not
-yet asked for one.
-
-The surgeon strongly recommended that I should take a permission, in
-order to recuperate before going to duty again. Jot suggested that he
-also get permission and go with me.
-
-“Where shall we go?” I said. “I should like to go where I can get a
-good swim.”
-
-“Just the thing,” said Jot, “I have been recommended to go to a place
-on the south coast--a watering place; they say it is fine.”
-
-It was so arranged.
-
-At this time our army in northern France were holding a sector in the
-world’s great battle where our regiment, with other American and French
-forces, faced the German army at the peak of a German salient. At some
-points the American positions were maintained in the shell holes that
-pitted the battle ground; and I felt guilty at leaving my comrades when
-I felt myself fit for duty and there was fighting to be done.
-
-I was ordered to report to the colonel and receive instructions.
-
-I stood and saluted. He looked me over critically and said, “You will
-do, Sergeant.”
-
-“Yes, sir,” I replied, “I feel fit for duty, and it doesn’t seem right
-for me to leave now.”
-
-He again radiated one of his indefinable smiles, partly of amusement
-and partly something else, and said, “A little lame yet, I see.”
-
-Then, grasping me by the shoulder, he looked in my face and said, “The
-decoration ceremonies are to be tomorrow, of course you know?”
-
-“Yes, sir,” I replied, “I have just received the notice.”
-
-“I am proud and glad, my friend!”
-
-“Thank you, sir,” I said, my heart glowing with pride that he should
-name me, a sergeant, _his friend_! I am not sure but that those words
-gave me more pride and pleasure than the decoration I afterwards
-received.
-
-After receiving directions for my simple part in the ceremonies I
-saluted and left with, I confess, grateful tears in my eyes.
-
-It was a great day for me. American and French regiments were drawn
-up in formation on a green field back from the river. Those to be
-decorated formed a group of five, two American and three French
-soldiers.
-
-Our general, strong and tall and simple; the French general, soldier of
-international fame, with a group of attending officers, were there.
-
-A trumpet sounded and the great French soldier came forward. He pinned
-the red ribbon of the Legion of Honor on the coat of a grizzled French
-captain--and then kissed him first on one cheek and then the other!
-Then came my turn: he made a little speech in French--which of course
-I did not understand--and pinned the green and yellow ribbon of the
-_Croix de Guerre_ upon my coat, and--shook hands! I felt relieved.
-
-But I was proud of the honor and the handshake from so great a soldier,
-and wished that my mother had lived to know about it. Perhaps she did;
-who knows?
-
-Before leaving for my trip I called at the hospital to see Chaplain
-John and had a heart-to-heart talk, such as I sometimes had had with
-mother. For though I have not said much of anything about it, in these
-pages, she at times seemed nearest to me, and thoughts of her still
-gave me pangs of sorrow mingled with deepest gratefulness and love for
-all she had been and still was to me.
-
-I had never given much thought to religious things, outside of the
-talks I used to have with her. The talks which the parsons gave me were
-usually more distressing than comforting. Boys will understand without
-my saying more. But this brave fellow, not many years older than I,
-with his common sense backed by his manly, self-sacrificing spirit, was
-different.
-
-When he asked me to pray with him I was a trifle disconcerted and
-shamefaced, for mother had taught me to pray in secret--and I hadn’t
-prayed much since I had been with the army. But when I rose from my
-knees, I had a feeling that I had been blessed by his prayer, and that
-a new and sweet spirit had entered into my life.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV ON LEAVE OF ABSENCE
-
-
-I was heartily congratulated by officers and comrades, on receiving the
-_Croix de Guerre_. I would have liked to wear it at once; but rules are
-rules, and I decided to wait till my own Government gave me permission
-to do so.
-
-The next morning we left by train travelling over a beautiful country.
-By the middle of the afternoon we reached one of the large cities of
-France where we spent the night.
-
-In the evening we went to an opera. It was good to hear the music and
-to see the enjoyment of the people. The house was only partly filled;
-mostly by soldiers home on permission. The artists were from Paris, and
-though I did not understand much of the language, the acting was so
-fine that I enjoyed the performance thoroughly. Jot, who was well up in
-French, said, “They did as well as though a king were in the box.”
-
-When we got back to our hotel a surprise, a disagreeable one for me,
-awaited us. Jot’s acquaintance, the one who looked so much like him
-that I had thought him to be his half-brother, was there awaiting his
-return.
-
-“I saw your name on the register,” he explained; “and as I wish to see
-you on business of importance, I have been waiting here.”
-
-When I, in turn, had shaken hands with him, I said, “I have seen you
-before, but did not get your name, sir.”
-
-“Adolf,” interrupted Jot, as though to prevent his giving any other.
-
-“Yes,” he said quietly, “Adolf Von Rucker, it’s a German name, and
-an honorable one.” Then, taking Jot by the arm he added, “I wish to
-communicate with your friend. Will you excuse my taking him away?”
-
-The striking resemblance of the two, the German name, all added to the
-mystery of their acquaintance and, as I believed, their relationship. I
-was worried about it in an indefinable way; for I had but little faith
-in anything that was German.
-
-I went to bed worrying; but in those days nothing could keep me from
-sleep. I was awakened the next morning by Jot who came to my room and
-greeted me by saying, “I was sorry to leave you last evening, David.”
-
-“Was that man your half brother, Jot?” I asked.
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Then your real name is Von Rucker, not Nickerson?”
-
-“Nickerson is a part of the name my mother gave me, and which it was
-her wish I should be known by. I have told you that before.”
-
-I knew that it would be useless to question him further; and I had an
-instinctive feeling that he had good reasons for his reserve, though I
-couldn’t understand it. So I dropped the matter, though I still felt
-that his association with one with such a name could bear no good fruit.
-
-That morning we resumed our journey on the train, and were speeding
-down a broad beautiful river, with mountains here and there on the
-opposite side, and with lovely villages and gardens with flowers,
-orange trees, palms, and fruit trees. Jot, who had been thoughtful
-and, as I thought, gloomy, threw off his depressing mood and entered
-heartily into the enjoyment of these scenes.
-
-In the afternoon we reached the sea, and passed the night at a busy
-throbbing metropolitan city. On the streets were people and uniforms of
-all nations--French, British, American, Algerines, Turkos, Canadians,
-East Indians and others that I can not name.
-
-We took a walk along the water side, and then up, up, up, to the top
-of a high cliff on the top of which was a church, old, quaint and
-beautiful. There we had a magnificent view. The sky so blue, the city
-with its green trees and red tiled roofs seen through the blue haze,
-the white limestone and the distant mountains, formed a picture never
-to be forgotten.
-
-The next day we were on the train again, with standing room only, the
-crowd was so great and the service so poor. But this inconvenience was
-forgotten in the constant panorama. Beaches of white sand and pebbles,
-flowers, orange, palm and peach trees. To me it was like a scene of
-enchantment, for beautiful nature had been supplemented by the arts of
-the landscape gardener. I had never seen anything like it before.
-
-We reached the city of our destination that afternoon, and went to the
-Hotel Beau Rivage, which had been recommended to Jot by some French
-friends. The accommodations were fine,--two rooms and a bath! It was
-nice to get a hot bath once more, and wash away the stains of travel.
-There was not as many people in the hotel as usual, we were told, on
-account of the war.
-
-It was the most beautiful sea resort of France. There was a fine beach,
-not of sand but of pebbles, beautiful drives, and a broad cement walk
-all bordered with palms, parks full of flowers of every kind, and
-the broad green, ever changing sea. And then the swim! I had been
-accustomed to swimming in fresh water, and the salt sea was so much
-more buoyant that I could almost seem to fly, when I took my favorite
-overhand swinging strokes through the clear salt water. It was grand!
-Swimming was my best hold as an athlete and I enjoyed it. Muddy also
-enjoyed the water.
-
-On our return, I took a nap, while Jot went to make some calls on
-people to whom he had letters of introduction. I had a long dreamless
-sleep, and was not awakened until Jot shook me by the shoulder, crying
-out: “Do you want to sleep forever, Dave? I have got some stunning news
-for you. Wake up!”
-
-I answered with a sleepy yawn, saying: “Stun away, Jot!”
-
-“Who do you suppose is here?”
-
-“I don’t know and don’t care,” I said indifferently; “I know I am here
-with both feet. Wasn’t that a fine swim? Shoot away, Jot; let me know
-the worst!”
-
-“Miss Rich and her father and Emily Grant!”
-
-“My!” I cried, springing up. “Where is Emily,--Miss Grant, I mean?--and
-Miss Rich.”
-
-“She is here at this hotel,” he replied, “and you had better hurry
-up and get down to the reception room; for she has got a half dozen
-lieutenants and captains in tow already.”
-
-That hurried me! I dressed and went to meet these people from home.
-
-It was like a breath from my native hills. It was, as Jot said, “as
-though they had just stepped out from New England,” bringing with them
-all its homely sweetness; and--Emily Grant was more beautiful than
-ever. My heart was full: it was a moment worth living for to meet them
-amid such beautiful surroundings.
-
-That afternoon we, Miss Grant, Miss Rich, Jot and I, took a trolley
-ride down the coast. Fifteen miles of beautiful roads mostly cut
-into the sides of the cliffs, which ran up and up and up, and on the
-terraces of which were magnificent gardens with vines and olive trees
-and flowers, above the white stone. With such company it was all too
-entrancing for words!
-
-Doctor Rich was interested in scientific inquiries connected with his
-profession, and was glad to have us take the girls off his hands. Such
-good times as we had, swimming and boating, and on the cliffs! Such a
-contrast was it to the squalid trenches.
-
-Jot had evidently told Miss Emily about my gaining the _Croix de
-Guerre_, for she asked me about it. We were far upon the cliff looking
-down on town and sea, and at her request I took it out of a case where
-I had enshrined it, and showed it to her.
-
-“Oh, how fine in you!” she said, and then asked me questions about my
-winning it, until I was tired. So I snapped it in the case again to
-resume my--view of the country.
-
-Jot teased me by declaring that I did not even care to take my swims,
-without Miss Emily for company, for fear of giving several lieutenants
-who were hovering around, a chance.
-
-“No,” I said, “I’ve learned that it is not fashionable to swim here;
-they tub.”
-
-I confess that though I believe myself to be a sensible young man, my
-heart sank like a piece of lead to the bottom of the sea, when those
-young fellows bowed and cast languishing glances at her which she
-answered with a smile. Every rose has its thorn!
-
-Our leave of absence was soon to be over. And then the parting came.
-I took Emily out for a walk and a climb on the high up cliffs--but it
-was of no use. I did not have the courage to tell her all that I felt;
-though I was encouraged by her looks and silence.
-
-So I parted with my friends at last, she giving me her address in
-France, and both girls inviting me to see them at the ---- hospital.
-
-Furlough was nearly over, and we were on the train at last, speeding
-for contending armies. Perhaps I might never see Emily again! Jot was
-looking even more grave than usual; but there was a new light in his
-eyes that mine did not reflect; which led me to inquire:
-
-“Are you engaged to Miss Rich, Jot?”
-
-“No,” he replied, “but we have an understanding.”
-
-“If you have an understanding, why not engaged?”
-
-“A man,” he replied, “should have something to offer a girl besides
-himself and possibly wounds or death, to be engaged to marry her. Did
-you,” he continued, “engage yourself to Miss Grant?”
-
-“No, I did not mention it to her.”
-
-Jot laughed a teasing laugh and said: “Well, Dave, I should not have
-even thought of putting such a question to you. You look more like a
-funeral than an engaged man just now!” And I guess I did.
-
-“Cheer up, Dave!” he teased. “The girls are going to be in a hospital
-near us. Who knows but that we shall both be half killed and be sent
-there? Perhaps you will have Miss Emily to nurse you.”
-
-“Who said anything about Miss Emily?” I replied crossly.
-
-“No one but your face, Davie. You can not hide that; it always was a
-telltale! I know you are blue. I am, too. I am hard hit, like some one
-else I know.”
-
-After this conversation we sat for a while in silence, and I thought
-Jot’s face grew more and more grave as we neared our destination.
-
-“What is it, Jot, what’s troubling you?” I inquired. “Is it something
-that Von Rucker wants you to do against your will?”
-
-“No,” he replied. “I never shall do anything contrary to my
-convictions, for either love or money.”
-
-“Why don’t you use the name you are entitled to?”
-
-“Mother, as I have told you, objected to it.”
-
-“Was it because he was a German?”
-
-“No,” he replied; “she married him knowing that, but there was
-something she didn’t know. She had very strong prejudices, or
-convictions you may call them; and I have the same myself. She was
-heart and soul a Union woman.”
-
-“Was he a Southerner?” I said. “Was that the trouble?”
-
-He did not answer me, but looked with a far-off glance as though into
-the future, rather than the past.
-
-We at last arrived at our destination and separated. So we left the
-sunshine for the clouds of war.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI A STRANGE DESERTION
-
-
-Upon my return to the front I found that our forces had been reinforced
-by new regiments. American troops, we were told, were arriving in
-great numbers. This information was hailed with satisfaction by
-French soldiers as well as by ourselves; for, while we did not doubt
-our ability to meet any equal numbers of the enemy, we wanted the
-backing given by superior numbers on our side; especially as the enemy
-were attacking from interior lines with the advantage of quicker
-concentration at the point of attack.
-
-Reporting for duty, I was cordially received by my comrades.
-
-“Now, I suppose that we shall lose you?” said Corporal Sutherland.
-
-“I think not,” I said, “I have had my leave and had a good time, and it
-is not likely that I will get another for a good while.”
-
-“Haven’t you heard,” queried one of the sergeants, “that you have been
-promoted?”
-
-“Promoted!” I replied in surprise; “I hope that they have not made me a
-top sergeant. I am not big enough for it; and it’s a hard job.”
-
-Just then my captain came up with extended hand, saying, “I
-congratulate you, as well as myself and our company.”
-
-“For what, Captain?” I replied, saluting; “I don’t understand.”
-
-“On your promotion to be second lieutenant of this company,” he
-replied; “I thought you had received your commission.”
-
-“Well,” I answered rather ungraciously, “I suppose that _is_ promotion.
-But don’t a sergeant have a better chance at fighting?”
-
-“The fighting will come along,” he laughed. “We are not likely to get
-a scrimp measure of it this summer, I assure you. There will be enough
-for everybody.”
-
-When I called on my colonel, by his order, he in turn greeted me with
-congratulations.
-
-“Thank you, Colonel,” I said, “but I fear that I owe promotion to your
-favor, rather than anything that I have done to deserve it.”
-
-His cordial manner changed at once to severity, as he rebuked me
-sternly. “All my promotions, everything I do here, is for the good of
-the service. Had I not thought you fit for the place, I would not have
-recommended you for it.”
-
-“I beg to apologize,” I answered, “and again to thank you for your good
-opinion. I value that more than the promotion.” And I did.
-
-His manner changed to graciousness again, as he placed his hand on my
-shoulder, and said while gripping it, “My boy, I have been watching
-your conduct. You’ve made good. You have qualities I need in an
-officer. I should have recommended your promotion before, had I not
-feared that my liking for you might influence my judgment. I do not
-believe in favoritism in military affairs.”
-
-I was deeply affected, and said with tears of heartfelt affection
-for him, “I will do all I can to deserve your good opinion and the
-commission.”
-
-I assumed the duties of my rank at once and was glad, as I thought how
-it would gratify Aunt Joe and--some one else.
-
-That evening while I was at the “Y” writing letters--one to my aunt
-telling her of my promotion, and another to Emily Grant--and, I confess
-my vanity--telling her of the colonel’s kind words, Jot, accompanied by
-another officer whom I did not recognize, interrupted me.
-
-“Congratulations, Lieutenant!” cried Jot, gripping my hand with one
-of his, and the other arm around my shoulder in his old affectionate
-manner. Then, turning to the officer, he introduced him as the one who
-owned “Jack,” our colt, and said: “I thought you would like to know
-that I have bought Jack from him.”
-
-I was delighted. We went to Jack’s stable in a near-by, shell-shattered
-barn--Jot, myself and Muddy--and held a reunion celebration--Jack
-whinneying, Muddy yelping and jumping, and Jot and I seconding these
-demonstrations with approving petting.
-
-“But, Jot,” I said, for I had been thinking it over, “what are you
-going to do with the colt now that you have got him?”
-
-“I think I will get some officer who requires a horse to keep him until
-I need him. Anyway I wanted him and have got him;” and added, “I may
-have to ride him sooner than I expect.”
-
-At the time of my return to duty, our regiment with other American and
-French troops were on a line with a river which divided a historic
-city. On our left was a broken bridge, cleft as though by a huge blunt
-sword near its center. The fight for this bridge had, first and last,
-cost many lives.
-
-Far away in the distance was a wood, occupied by a large force of our
-troops, that had been fighting for its possession. In the half-ruined
-town was our division headquarters, the huts of the Y. M. C. A., and
-hospitals, some of them occupying temporary buildings like those
-elsewhere described.
-
-“This looks as though we were going in for some real fighting,” I said
-to a fellow officer.
-
-“Yes,” replied Captain Cross, who had come up, “those are ‘the
-symptoms,’ as our doctors say;” and then thoughtfully added, “A year
-ago, most of us here were green as grass so far as fighting was
-concerned. Some of us were recruits that scarcely knew one end of a
-rifle from another. But now look at them! They have been trained down
-to a fighting edge and have already shown great soldierly qualities;
-and the Boche recognize it by being mighty cautious when they are
-facing us. That’s why we are on the fighting line here. Our soldiers,
-I learn, are on the front line in nearly a dozen different places from
-the Picardy to the Alsace front.”
-
-“I hope that we may be able to give a good account of ourselves before
-long,” I asserted.
-
-“Never doubt it,” rejoined our adjutant, who was in the group. “Our men
-have got the right stuff in them, and association with French soldiers
-has strengthened their confidence in themselves.”
-
-“Yes,” said another confidently, though in a jocular vein, “we will
-wipe the Prussian monarchy from the map, and hang the Kaiser to a sour
-apple tree!”
-
-“What we lack now--so I understand,” said Captain Cross, “is better
-means of getting information of the plans of the enemy; a better spy
-system.”
-
-“Well,” said my friend Jot, “gentlemen, we must do everything necessary
-to win the war, or the world won’t be a safe place for Christian men
-and women to live in. There can be no peace until it is done.”
-
-The captain as he turned to go to his duties said, “A million of our
-men will soon be here, and other millions are coming, that will put
-victory beyond doubt.”
-
-Several days passed and I was becoming accustomed to the duties of
-my new station and office. I enjoyed it, for it brought me in closer
-intercourse with men of a higher social grade than I had hitherto been
-with; and it was especially gratifying to be in closer social touch
-with Jot and Chaplain John Fuller.
-
-At every opportunity, when off duty, Jot had been riding and teaching
-Jack. “He is the most intelligent creature I ever saw,” he said to me
-one evening.
-
-“You remember we used to call him by a peculiar whistle? He remembers
-it, and answers it; no matter where I am, he will come when he hears
-me. I was at the colonel’s this afternoon about keeping him, and had an
-understanding about other matters, not so pleasant.” And then his face
-darkened, as a cloud dispels sun-light, and I saw that something deep
-like an undercurrent of reflection was worrying him.
-
-That night as we parted, he said, “If anything should ever occur to
-make you doubt me, always remember that I love you and love my country.”
-
-“What in heaven’s name,” I said, “_can_ occur to make me doubt it!
-Don’t I know you?” I little thought then how terribly this confidence
-was to be shaken.
-
-“Strange things happen sometimes in army life,” he said, “and we don’t
-know.” And then, with the shadow still on his face, we parted for the
-night.
-
-Before daybreak, the next morning, our regiment was moved to relieve
-troops that held an advanced post along the very verge of the river,
-when as we silently marched through the moon-lit, half-ruined city
-streets to take our places, I again exchanged silent salutations with
-Jot. He seemed, as I thought, more like himself--cheerful and smiling.
-
-We held a line on the river near the bridge which I have mentioned,
-where a street ran down near the water’s edge from the bridge road just
-above us. Everything was silent. Not a German soldier could be seen, as
-moonlight gave place to daylight.
-
-As the sun came up there was heard an occasional crack of rifle, as
-though to let us know they were “alive and watching us,” as I heard
-one of the men say in an undertone. Then came the steady purr of our
-airplanes and occasionally the more irregular sound of German air
-craft, which, like great buzzards seeking prey, soared far above us.
-
-It was high noon and we were eating our dinners, when I heard a sharp,
-twice-repeated whistle. I could scarcely believe my senses; for it was
-the signal by which Jack was called.
-
-While I was wondering, Jack trotted up whinneying. Jot caught his
-bridle and, fully equipped with arms and uniform, mounted bare back,
-walked him to the river, and, horse and man were seen swimming for
-the opposite shore. Before we had fully recovered from our surprise
-they were on the opposite side moving at a swift gallop. Then shots
-were fired; there were calls, confusing and uncertain before we
-fully comprehended that it was a case of desertion! Then rifle and
-machine-guns opened fire; but it was too late. Jot had deserted to
-the enemy, there was, apparently, no doubt about that. The deserting
-horseman had paused for a moment for a defiant salutation, before
-riding away with awaiting German soldiers.
-
-I was paralyzed with astonishment! I would not have believed it,
-had I not seen this disgraceful act with my own eyes. There it was,
-notwithstanding: Jonathan Nickerson, a trusted officer, had deserted in
-the face of his comrades, and gone over to the hated enemy!
-
-When I thought it over, it seemed to me that it had been planned from
-the first of his entrance into the service of the United States.
-His known conferences with his half-brother of German name, and
-his assuming another name than his real one, his interviews with
-another stranger, probably German, his buying Jack, all pointed to a
-deeply-laid, dangerous act of treason.
-
-Was he a German spy? How long had it been going on, and what damage
-had he already done to our cause? His desertion was bold, aye brave,
-but that was no atonement for the deep damnation of it! Could I ever
-believe in any man’s profession again?
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII ANOTHER DESERTER
-
-
-The desertion of Lieutenant Nickerson was the subject of many ugly
-remarks. A few asserted that they had suspicions from their first
-acquaintance with him that he was disloyal; but this assertion was
-not backed by any evidence to justify it. Others stoutly defended him
-by declaring that, while his desertion was a mystery, it would be
-explained sometime to his credit. But these were in a minority, and
-naturally so; for men will prefer to believe what they see, rather than
-theories or explanations.
-
-For my start I was simply dazed. At one moment, remembering Jot and his
-many manly qualities, I could not believe him to be a traitor to his
-country. Then, with the cold facts before me, how could I explain what
-I had seen in any other way?
-
-For a time I was heartsick and gloomy; but I did not let this mood
-interfere with my duty as an officer. I was more intensely loyal if
-possible than before.
-
-Shortly after Jot’s desertion I went to visit my wounded friend,
-Chaplain John, who was slowly recovering from his wound. The surgeon
-who had him in charge explained to me that it was a complicated case.
-A bullet had perforated his lung and,--but could not follow his
-diagnosis. (Why can’t a doctor speak plain English?) But what he
-really meant, I inferred, was, that after a time he would recover if--
-
-The chaplain greeted me heartily. He was cheerful though weak and, as
-he said, tired out with lying in bed.
-
-I purposely avoided mentioning Lieutenant Nickerson, for I could not
-bear to discuss his desertion, since I could not explain it to his
-advantage, and with the facts all against him. My friend himself
-introduced the subject.
-
-“I am sorry about Nickerson. I know you must feel blue over it, Stark;
-I do myself.”
-
-“Thanks,” I said, “for thinking of us, when you have so much to bear
-yourself.”
-
-“Oh,” he said, “this is mere physical pain, isn’t it, after all, the
-least of pains we have to bear? Mental distress--soul pangs--are the
-hardest, it seems to me.”
-
-“I don’t know about that,” I replied. “Have you ever had the jumping
-toothache, or been seasick?”
-
-“Yes,” he replied, laughing heartily, “and they were tough nuts to
-crack;” and then soberly added, “but, after all, they are not to
-be compared with mental anguish; for one knows that when they are
-conquered that will be all of it. Now you are sad hearted and see no
-way out of it; and there is but one way, and that is by asking help
-from Heaven. That is never denied us, however great our distress.”
-
-Every word was balm to me, and seemed to bring a benediction. It was as
-though his courage and spiritual confidence had entered my soul to heal
-and purify.
-
-Then we had a comforting talk. The mere words were nothing in
-themselves, it was the spirit of the man. It was such a communion of
-thought and feeling as I had never had with any one before, except my
-dear mother--and it seemed at times as though she was present with us.
-
-It did me a lot of good. It was as though the sun had come out from
-a long-clouded sky. In some way, which I can not express in my poor
-words, I went out leaving my gloom behind me, and feeling in some
-indefinable way that the “clouds would break with blessings on my head.”
-
-With this new feeling of faith or confidence I went to duty again.
-
-“Have you had good news?” asked Captain Cross when I met him.
-
-“Yes,” I replied; but I made no explanation, for the news was not of
-the kind he had meant.
-
-I met Colonel Burbank at the officers’ mess, and was greeted as usual.
-I wanted to ask him about the nature of the interviews he had had with
-Nickerson, at times that I have mentioned, but did not know how. But
-when we came out and walked through the narrow street together, he
-kindly took my arm and said, as though he had read my thoughts:
-
-“What is it, Lieutenant? What do you want to say to me?”
-
-“I have my troubles,” I replied, “but I do not know if they can be made
-less by asking you to resolve them.”
-
-“Possibly not,” he replied gravely, and then in a low tone, “Sometimes
-a great cause demands and accepts great sacrifices. There are great
-self-forgetting souls that are so devoted to a cause that they
-willingly make surrenders greater than life! Can you understand?”
-
-What was I to understand by these words? I felt that I could not ask
-him, for with all his graciousness there was a barrier of reserve,
-though unexpressed in words, which I felt must not be passed.
-
-At parting he gripped my shoulder and said, looking me earnestly in the
-face, “You don’t ask for explanations--possibly you may never get any.”
-In this talk neither of us had mentioned Lieutenant Nickerson’s name.
-
-I had written to Emily Grant telling her the circumstances of
-Lieutenant Nickerson’s desertion without, however, a word of
-explanation, or what I felt or thought about it. In her reply, she
-wrote as though she knew I was blue and troubled about it, and simply
-said, “You can not do anything but wait. Time sometimes brings
-explanations that can not be given otherwise. Miss Rich is deeply
-troubled; but she will not believe that your friend is a traitor.”
-
-Shortly after the talk I had with Colonel Burbank, there was another
-desertion that hurt me. Muddy mysteriously disappeared for parts
-unknown. I inquired at the mess sergeant’s, where he sometimes went for
-a bit of meat or a bone; but he had not been seen there. Neither was he
-at the colonel’s, where he was often to be seen asleep in a chair. The
-last I had seen of him he was asleep on my blankets.
-
-Several days passed without his appearance, and I was annoyed and
-perplexed; for he had never absented himself like this before.
-
-The enemy, who had been unusually quiet for several days, began to show
-greater activity. Their air craft came inquisitively nosing around, and
-when one was brought down or driven back, others persisted in coming to
-take their places in spying. Their heavy guns, that for a time had been
-inactive, now began firing with increasing intensity.
-
-“It looks,” said Captain Cross, “as though another drive was maturing.
-Possibly they have got some new information about us, and have been
-training their men for a decisive drive and are now about ready to
-strike.”
-
-The cannonading continued quite active for a day or two, and then
-slackened and died away. That a sudden attack was feared was shown by
-the unusually watchful guard kept on the line of the river. Occasional
-raids began to be made on the enemy’s positions. The slightest movement
-there was regarded with suspicion, sometimes with amusing results. Our
-gunners were exceedingly proficient. An artillery officer had said to
-me, “I can always place the third shot in a five foot square. And then,
-as he saw an enemy soup kitchen coming down a far-off hill, added, ‘Now
-watch me do it!’”
-
-He fired two shots, and the second one was a perfect hit, the “soup
-gun” flying into flinders.
-
-“Some of the poor devils,” I said, “will have to go without their soup
-tonight.”
-
-Then, shortly after, our artillery in the sector to the right of us,
-opened up a wonderful barrage with an impressive roar of guns and
-exploding shells. We relished it a good deal more, since we knew that
-our men were “pulling off” a raid, and not the Boches.
-
-Just then my attention was called by Sam Jenkins to an object in the
-river.
-
-“Say, Lieutenant, just see me hit that muskrat,” said Sam, bringing his
-rifle to his shoulder to fire.
-
-“Don’t fire,” I said; “let the poor creature live!” For I felt that
-where there was so much needful destruction, that innocent creatures
-should be protected.
-
-In another moment, it was seen that it was a dog, as the little
-fellow came dripping and shaking his shaggy coat from the water. I
-whistled and Muddy, as was his habit when caught in mischief, came
-crouching with apologetic waggles at my feet. I tried to reassure him
-of my forgiveness, but he rolled over on his back with paws dangling
-imploringly. Then I took him in my arms, wet as he was, I was so glad
-to see him, and he snuggled down, whimpering.
-
-When I had taken him to my quarters and fed him, I discovered that he
-was very hungry; for he ate as though starved, and then whimpered and
-barked and fawned upon me, as though to tell me that he had had a hard
-time, and was glad to get back to me. I left him asleep on my blanket
-and went to duty again, for he seemed too tired to go with me as usual.
-
-Colonel Burbank knew that Muddy had been “lost and found,” and when
-later I called at his quarters, seemed pleased to see Muddy as well as
-myself.
-
-While I was standing at attention, Muddy jumped to his lap snuggled
-down, and then I saw him fumble with Muddy’s collar and take from under
-it a small package of paper which he put in his pocket.
-
-“This was something for me,” he coolly replied, to my look of
-astonishment, and then added:
-
-“You are not to mention anything you see in my office.”
-
-I did not know what to make of it all. Muddy must have been with
-Lieutenant Nickerson, for I knew that no one else could coax him away
-from me. But what about the message he had brought back?
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII A RAID ON THE ENEMY
-
-
-As has been seen in foregoing chapters, we were now fighting beside the
-French in northern France, and holding a sector in the world’s great
-conflict.
-
-Infantry, artillery, machine-guns, and other branches of the service
-were awaiting the resumption of the great German drive, by which the
-enemy were hoping to obtain a victorious decision and give to their
-brutal government supremacy in the world.
-
-While we recognized how serious would be our failure to ward off the
-impending blow, we were keen and alert for action, and proud that we
-had been chosen to defend this half-ruined but quaintly beautiful city.
-
-“Where do you expect the Huns will strike us next?” I asked a staff
-officer of our division.
-
-“I do not know, and can only guess it will be right on this southern
-line in a drive towards Paris; but, meanwhile, I think that we will
-do a little fighting before he begins. You know that it is the policy
-of our general-in-chief to keep up an incessant nibbling along
-their lines, not only to gain information, but to break up their
-combinations--disrupt their plans.”
-
-“Yes, I suppose that it is good tactics,” I replied, “to do the things
-the enemy don’t want you to do; and just now they seem to be willing to
-be let alone.”
-
-Shortly after this conversation our regiment, with others, began
-rehearsing movements that looked as though we were to cross the river.
-
-Before daylight one morning we were marched a quarter of a mile or more
-up the river, where light canvas pontoons were unloaded near us, with
-balk (string pieces) and chess (floor covering) for a pontoon bridge.
-An abutment of a single timber set into the ground and secured by pegs
-for the five claw balks, one end of which grasped the abutment and the
-other the gunwale of the boat nearest to the shore. Then a section of
-the bridge was built on the shore, launched and swung into the river
-and anchored. Then, still in comparative darkness, our artillery
-laid down a terrible barrage, under cover of which the pontoons were
-anchored, balks fastened to the boats by the pontooniers, and covered
-with chess with inconceivable rapidity, until the bridge reached the
-opposite shore. Then with a rush we went over.
-
-All this had been done with such clock-like precision that but little
-opposition had been met: and the crossing had been planned so well and
-so quickly executed, that it had been a complete surprise to the enemy.
-
-The line of barrage fire had been so accurately laid down by our
-artillery that the Huns were not able to escape or to receive
-reinforcements. Taking advantage, however, of a fair wind, they
-launched a gas attack. Several of our men were overcome by its
-poisonous fumes before they could put on their gas masks, for it was
-unexpected. I was first aware of it by feeling slightly sickened,
-but the gas gong sounded and I adjusted my mask before being, as I
-thought, seriously affected.
-
-We were over the bridge, as I have said, with a rush; and then moving
-up the river began a fight for the possession of the northern part of
-the town. It was light when our brave men hurled themselves upon the
-enemy, driving them from buildings, hunting them from the cellars,
-shelters and dugouts. It was quick, sharp and decisive fighting. The
-men were on edge, crying out, “Eat ’em up. Gee! we’ll get ’em!” as
-the sharp report of rifles and the rat, tat, tat of the machine-guns
-were heard above the uproar of barrage fire in our rear, and exploding
-shells beyond us.
-
-The Boches, being unable to retreat or get reinforcements, hid in shell
-holes and cellars, or surrendered. We brought back thirty officers and
-men--all we could lay hands on, without remaining too long on the north
-side of the river. Then, obeying orders, we recrossed; the bridge was
-dismantled and withdrawn, and the raid was over.
-
-Several of our men had been killed, and the wounded were being sent to
-the hospital. As I stood watching to see if any of my old associates
-in the ranks were among them, Sam Jenkins rushed up to me crying out,
-“Have you heard the news?”
-
-“No,” I replied stiffly. “Salute your officers before addressing them.”
-
-For Sam in his excitement had forgotten to salute, and I was careful,
-as a man promoted from the ranks must be, that my former associates did
-not presume on our former relations.
-
-He saluted, and cried: “They have captured Lieutenant Nickerson!”
-
-If I had been struck by a club I could not have been more badly hit. I
-grew sick and staggered.
-
-“Who told you that?” I ejaculated hoarsely. “Where is he?”
-
-“Under guard out here,” he said; “I’ll show you.”
-
-I hurried forward with Sam. As I caught sight of his face I said, “Wait
-a minute, it may be his brother.” I watched to see if he had a disabled
-arm. But when I saw him put that hand to his head I knew the worst.
-Under guard of two of our men, there he stood with apparent unconcern,
-in the uniform of a captain of German infantry!
-
-“Oh, Jot!” I cried, forgetful of everything but that here stood my
-former friend, so dear to me, in peril and disgrace. “How could you,
-Jot!” I again exclaimed; all my love and sympathy recalled by his once
-dear face.
-
-He smiled calmly, with an expression that I had never seen on his face
-before, as if in reply to my call, and with his right hand brushed away
-his hair clotted with blood from a wound.
-
-I held out my hand to him, while weak hot tears ran down my face;
-for though I knew of his treason, one of my lifetime idols was now
-shattered by the sight. Still he smiled calmly and with shameful
-indifference, or sarcasm, without reply in words.
-
-One singular thing here occurred. Muddy, with his bark of greeting,
-came leaping and fawning on me; but, without one wag of his tail in
-greeting for Jot!
-
-“Even the dog,” said Sam, sadly, “has turned against him.”
-
-My heart was heavy with pain. Jot had not offered to take my hand. Had
-he been hardened in shame by his treason?
-
-A division staff officer had come up, with others, for his questioning.
-There was evidently about to be a drum-head court martial.
-
-Still preserving his outward indifference, Jot was questioned.
-
-“What is your name?”
-
-Turning his face with an ironical glance at me, he replied: “Adolph Von
-Rucker.”
-
-“What is your rank?”
-
-“Captain of the 21st Prussian Guards,” he replied, proudly.
-
-“Do you know this man?” said the interrogating officer to me.
-
-“Yes,” I replied, saluting. “It is Jonathan Nickerson, late lieutenant
-of Co. ---- Regt., U. S. A. Reserves,” for I thought that his
-masquerading could not serve him for long.
-
-“What do you reply to that?” interrogated the examining officer.
-
-“I make no reply,” he replied firmly, “other than that it is false;
-a mistake probably. Lieutenant Stark has mistaken me for my brother,
-who is very like me. I am Captain Adolph Von Rucker, as I have before
-asserted.”
-
-“How do you identify him?” asked the officer, turning to me.
-
-“Adolph Von Rucker, whom I met, had an arm that hung loose in his
-sleeve,” I answered.
-
-“Yes,” he replied, lifting his helmet with the left hand and brushing
-away the clotted hair with the other; “he’s right.” Then putting both
-hands in front of him he called attention to the arms explaining, “One
-arm is two inches shorter than the other because of resection.”
-
-“Remove your coat, Captain,” said the officer.
-
-One sleeve of his coat was slipped from his arm,--the undergarment was
-rolled back disclosing the scar of a wound.
-
-“A clever piece of surgery,” explained the prisoner. “Two inches of
-bone sawed away and united by a silver wire. It is a little loose. But
-I can use it quite handily--when I choose,” he added with a side glance
-at me. “I am Captain Adolph Von Rucker, as I have declared.”
-
-Then turning again to the examining officer he spoke in his ear a few
-words that could not be understood by others. The officer nodded as if
-in assent and the prisoner was led away.
-
-My heart rose again. I was not to see Jot shot or hanged. It was not my
-former friend, thank God! but Adolph Von Rucker, his half-brother.
-
-The excitement and the reaction was apparently too much for me. I was
-sick and prostrated. In this condition I was attended by our surgeon,
-who said briefly, “It’s the gas. I have been attending similar cases
-since the men have recrossed the river.” Then he became preoccupied in
-his own professional diagnosis, as though there had never been neither
-a Von Rucker or a Jonathan Nickerson.
-
-I did not recover under his treatment, but grew worse and worse under
-the poisonous influence of German gas. This, the surgeon told me,
-was often the case with a new gas which the enemy were using; that
-sometimes its effects were but little noticed at first and afterward
-became fatal!
-
-I was under the best and most tyrannical care--a slave to the
-scientific theories of a doctor, and my readers know how well I loved
-that.
-
-I was surprised to learn, later, that Captain Von Rucker had been seen
-in Colonel Burbank’s office in conversation with him and the division
-general. “Possibly,” suggested my informant, “he was allowed to explain
-his former presence within our lines in citizen dress--but!”
-
-When I was allowed to call at the ward where my friend, Chaplain John,
-was confined, I met with a surprise that drove all other thoughts out
-of my mind. Emily Grant was a Red Cross nurse there! I was now willing
-to be sick for an indefinite time if I could only be in that ward;
-but that ward was for the wounded, and I was not supposed to be so
-afflicted--but I was not so sure of that.
-
-I was placed in a ward where Dr. Rich was in charge, as a specialist in
-gas poison. I have no doubt that he understood my case, though other
-things engrossed my thoughts. I gave him a clear field for thought and
-speculation, while _my_ thought and attention were directed to other
-matters. Emily visited me each day, and expressed great sympathy with
-my case; in fact I appeared to be, in that hospital, no longer an
-individual but an “interesting case.”
-
-We talked however, about my friend, Lieutenant Nickerson, and tried
-so hard to account for his desertion--besides other matters--where I
-did so much more thinking than talking, that Chaplain John, I think,
-enviously, called it a case of close-communion. Even a good man tries
-sometimes to be too funny, as children do.
-
-In two weeks I was pronounced cured. I can not say I was entirely
-pleased to be cured so quickly; for I was becoming intensely interested
-in scientific nursing.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX THE GERMAN PEACE STORM
-
-
-It was currently reported that the Germans were about to launch a new
-attack. Anticipating, in advance, a decisive victory for their arms,
-they designated the contemplated attack “a peace storm.”
-
-Whatever may have been the feelings of our allied soldiers regarding
-this impending “drive,” the Americans were full of confidence.
-
-“If the Boches,” I heard Captain Cross say, “will only come out and
-fight in the open, we will give them something hot to carry back to
-Germany.” And this was the confidence expressed on every side by the
-American doughboy.
-
-“Shure,” said Pat Quinn, “it’s ourselves that will give them a
-belly-full if they will stand up like gintlemen and take what is coming
-to them.”
-
-“A fair field and we will account for the rest of it,” was a sentiment
-that was often expressed by our soldiers of all ranks.
-
-They were soon to have the desired field and achieve a victory,
-fighting side by side with their dauntless French allies who, on many a
-field during the most discouraging period of the war, had proved their
-constancy and courage.
-
-In order to understand more clearly the battle to be described, let us
-step back a few months for a better background for our perspective.
-
-It was five months since the Germans opened their campaign of 1918 by
-their successful drive at Cambrai. During these five months, however,
-a new contestant had stepped over the threshold of the war’s arena.
-Seven hundred and fifty thousand American soldiers had, during that
-time, been landed in France, making in all a formidable army of over a
-million men, to aid in “making the world safe for democracy.”
-
-In their attack on Monday, May 27, 1918, the German army had
-practically destroyed the troops on the French line north of the Aisne
-River, and on the Saturday following had reached the Marne between
-Dormans and Château Thierry. This brought them within forty-five miles
-of Paris, which they planned to capture, and therefrom to dictate a
-peace on their own terms.
-
-In a conversation, which several of us younger officers had with our
-colonel, he pointed out to us that if General Foch had thrown his
-reserves in front of the German advance at that time, it would have
-brought them south of the Marne, and by the extension of the enemy’s
-lines between the Aisne and the Oise it would have brought his reserves
-far from the main battle. So, after the Germans had passed the Aisne
-River, he put aside the temptation to halt his enemy north of the
-Marne, and put all his available reserves to holding a line from
-Soissons to Château Thierry on the west, and from thence on the east
-to Rheims. The lines so formed might be likened to an immense letter V
-with its two arms each not far from twenty-five miles in length.
-
-It was along these lines that, on the 15th of July, 1918, the tempest
-of the peace storm broke.
-
-The allies had survived three great blows with their military
-organization unbroken, and it remained to be seen what could be done
-with them when used for an offensive battle.
-
-The German concentration of troops was greatest between Dormans and
-Rheims,--a front of about twenty-five miles on the eastern arm of the V.
-
-At several points between the places last mentioned, the enemy threw
-a score of bridges across the Marne, and while these bridges were
-crowded with their soldiers, they were swept by a fire of artillery,
-machine-guns, and rifles which checked their advance and killed them in
-masses.
-
-Simultaneously with this onset, the Germans attempted another
-formidable attack along the western arm of the V and northwest from
-Château Thierry. This was met by the French with a deadly barrage, so
-that the Germans were unable to debouch from their own positions.
-
-Such was the opening of their attempt to overwhelm the allied forces on
-the Marne and march on Paris.
-
-On the morning of the 15th we heard the tempest of battle on every
-side, and stood ready to take our part in this great adventure of arms.
-
-I, for one, forgot all else but that a great battle was impending
-in which Americans were to have a part, and I had an intense desire
-to acquit myself bravely as my forbears always had in the supreme
-tests of battle. A war, too, which was to make the world safe for the
-principle for which my father had fought in the Civil War and which was
-to bring, it was devotedly hoped, a reign of righteousness and peace
-for all the world.
-
-While the sound of battle was heard on every side, we waited orders to
-move. The order came at midnight, during a heavy downpour of rain; and
-it was dark as dark could be when it came, and the march at last began.
-But every man knew his place in line and had his equipments ready at
-hand.
-
-We silently crossed the river without opposition, and were in the
-northern half of the city which for six weeks had been in the hands
-of the invaders. Daylight revealed columns of French and American
-troops marching through its ruined streets. The men were jubilant with
-expectation. On their faces shone the light of youthful enthusiasm. The
-sharp report of rifles and the _rat, tat, tat_ of machine-guns, mingled
-with the roar of artillery, assailed our ears.
-
-“We’ve caught them on the fly,” said one of our enthusiastic boys, “and
-we are after them!”
-
-“It looks to me,” said another, hopefully, “that we have got our
-innings, and that we are going to make a home run.”
-
-The city showed signs of a hurried and disorderly departure of the
-usually methodical Germans. Here and there in the streets was a German
-helmet and, occasionally a dead man whom they could not stop to bury.
-There were barricades built up with fragments of masonry, benches,
-tables, wheelbarrows, unhinged doors, mattresses and even a cradle
-and bird cage. The houses were only shells, with windows broken, holes
-gaping in their walls, doors wrenched from their hinges. The beautiful
-furnishings had all been destroyed or wantonly ruined.
-
-The cellars showed signs of having been largely occupied as places
-of refuge. Mattresses, benches and chairs and cooking utensils were
-collected there.
-
-Some of the inhabitants were still there, clinging with French tenacity
-to their ruined homes. They were principally old women and men and
-children. During the six weeks of German occupancy they had lived on
-vegetables dug at night from abandoned gardens, and on goat’s flesh and
-one cow that had been killed by our gun fire.
-
-Upon our coming they had begun to gather from the seemingly hopeless
-ruins, household goods with which to rebuild some of the comforts of
-homes. The German soldiers, they said, had used them fairly well, but
-took possession of their cellars for their own use and protection from
-our gun fire.
-
-In one place we found a machine-gun nest that had not been ousted. Our
-men surrounded it, and soon the German soldiers came out with uplifted
-hands, crying “Kamerad!” and were made prisoners of war and marched to
-the rear. By their expressive looks I thought that they expected to be
-killed rather than fed. We learned afterwards that many of the Boches
-called “Kamerad!” when they had no intention of surrendering--but used
-it as a trick.
-
-We did not tarry long in this ruined city. On our right and left we
-could hear the crackling of musketry and the steady roar of artillery;
-and at times I fancied I could faintly hear American cheers.
-
-Our force of French and Americans was commanded by a French officer who
-had been trained in French colonial armies and was notably brave and
-skillful. His soldiers loved him, for he asked no exposure or danger
-that he was not willing to share.
-
-The clouds had cleared away and the sun had come out as if in promise
-of victory, as we marched forward encountering surprisingly little
-opposition.
-
-“What does it mean?” queried Sutherland; “are the Boches all dead?”
-
-“No,” said Corporal Quinn, for he had won that rank, “Shure I think the
-divils are thrying to get away wid themsilves. Don’t ye’s hear the guns
-on both sides of us?”
-
-“Gee!” ejaculated Hen. Goodwin, “them chumps knows when they’s licked.
-And you’s can bet that they’s can run!”
-
-All reports that reached us showed that the Germans were getting out of
-the claws of the V as fast as circumstances would admit, and before the
-mouth of it “snapped shut,” as Shaw said.
-
-The sounds of battle were calling us young Americans as we marched on.
-We felt that we had a task before us that must speedily be performed.
-The battle called us, trumpet-tongued, for energy and action. We glowed
-and were consumed with eagerness to be in at the death; for we felt
-that it was a crisis in the campaign for American soldiers.
-
-“Why don’t you stop and get some hot chow?” said one of the sweaty
-cooks to our men.
-
-“Aw! we ain’t got time,” answered Goodwin; “hard-tack is good enough
-when you’s are gettin’ after the Dutchies.”
-
-“It’s a regular rabbit hunt,” said Sam Jenkins, “an’ we are out
-a-gunning and can’t stop, or the rabbit’ll get away.”
-
-We were in sight of the red roofs of a village, when from a wooden hill
-there came the _rat, tat, tat_ of machine-guns.
-
-“They’ve got a nest there,” was the cry from our men. “Let’s rout ’em
-out!”
-
-Twenty of our best marksmen took advantageous positions to pick off
-their men, while our light arms and machine-guns sprayed them with an
-intense fire.
-
-It was but a little time before they had enough of it; and those who
-could do so got away, while others came out with uplifted hands crying
-“Kamerad!” They had been told that the Americans were savage, and would
-shoot them without mercy, and some of them believed it.
-
-During our morning’s march, Muddy, who had been following closely at my
-heels, flew out after the Boches that were hustling to get away and,
-without a yelp or bark, ran so that we couldn’t see his tail for the
-dust. I did not see him again until afternoon, when he came crouching
-in apology with his tail at half-mast. I had whistled to call him back,
-but he either would not hear or would not heed. What did it mean?
-
-As I was in command of the platoon I had other duties and could give
-little thought to a dog.
-
-Twice later that afternoon we met with fitful opposition from the
-enemy, and it was late before we reached the village whose red-tiled
-houses, as we have before mentioned, we had seen in the distance.
-
-“That looks good,” said our captain. “Possibly we can halt there for
-the night, unless we have to fight for it.”
-
-As we approached the village there burst forth from in front and on
-both sides of us the chatter of machine-guns and rifle fire, as if to
-say, “Stand off! we are here!”
-
-Some of us took shelter behind a rise in the land and fired upon
-them, while others circled around the village. Then their fire began
-gradually to die away.
-
-“Gee!” said Goodwin, “you’s can just bet your bottom dollar they’s
-litin’ out.”
-
-“No chance to bag your rabbits, Sam,” said Sutherland sarcastically.
-“They won’t stop to say good-bye.” And they didn’t.
-
-We had opened a hot fire and then by making sudden rushes and throwing
-ourselves on our faces and firing had driven them out. It was an old
-method, used by the regulars in fighting Indians; but it answered.
-
-“I have no respect for the Boches any more,” said Sam, “except as
-runners.” But therein he was wrong. They were fighting a rear-guard
-fight, and were not only acting in a prudent way, but also under orders.
-
-A few people, old men, women, and children, who had been sheltering
-themselves as best they could in cellars and behind thick walls, came
-out and greeted us with French enthusiasm.
-
-It was quite embarrassing for Sutherland when one sweet-faced old woman
-threw her arms around his neck in a fervent embrace. He was awkward in
-receiving her hug, but at last recovering from surprise, he patted her
-and told her not to cry. When one attempted to hug and kiss the doughty
-Sam Jenkins, instead of bravely standing fire he turned and ran.
-
-Peter Beaudett, more educated in French ways than the rest of us,
-returned, as Pat Quinn afterwards declared, “blarney for blarney,” and
-kissed one of the younger women effusively. I thought it a shame that
-we had not been educated up to the point of receiving such grateful
-demonstrations as they were meant. But, New England people check,
-rather than give way to, their emotions. Do they gain, or lose by it?
-
-Though Peter Beaudett could not speak Parisian French he could
-partially understand and be understood.
-
-“What are they saying?” I asked the French interpreter.
-
-“They say, ‘May God and his holy angels have you all in his keeping!’”
-he replied. Thus it was that we awkwardly received the blessings of the
-good, suffering women of France; and I trust in part appreciated them.
-
-“Not all the Germans were bad,” said one old woman; “one young officer
-helped us, and gave us part of his small piece of bread, and assisted
-us in getting together things to make us more comfortable.”
-
-This description somehow reminded me of Jot, and his helpful ways.
-
-The clouds had cleared away and, under a star-lit sky, we lay down to
-the sleep of tired men, with the camp sentinels walking their posts
-protectingly around us.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX AN ADVENTURE OF ARMS
-
-
-The next morning, when we resumed our march on the heels of the
-retreating enemy, I was unaccountably depressed. I felt that I was
-standing on the verge of calamity. I will acknowledge that I am
-superstitious. Ever since I can remember I have had warnings when
-unusual trouble was impending. I did not, however, allow this feeling
-of coming misfortune to impair my work as an officer; for I had no time
-to consider such minor things as personal feelings, when the interests
-of my country were looming large ahead of me in battles about to be
-fought.
-
-The tendencies of a soldier’s life are to make him a fatalist. He gets
-to feeling and thinking that what is to be will happen, and that he has
-only to do his duty faithfully as his part in it. And he is confirmed
-in that belief by the everyday happenings of his adventurous life; so
-why borrow trouble about that which you can’t help?
-
-This, though not often put in words by them, is a very common
-feeling--or I may call it belief--among soldiers who are constantly
-offering their lives to the hazards of battle.
-
-When I speak of the retreating enemy, I do not mean that we had an
-easy time of it always, or that they were running away. They had
-been forced into such a position by the strategy of Foch, and the
-hard fighting of the Allies, that it was essential to their safety to
-retreat. But to do this they must fight at certain points for the
-protection of their divisions and the vast munitions of war which they
-were removing to another line.
-
-We soon came upon a detachment of the enemy on our immediate front
-strongly posted and defended by their light artillery, machine-guns,
-and infantry. When we attempted in our over-confidence to rush them and
-drive them back we were checked by a bitter fire.
-
-Then our heavy guns from the rear opened on them. And as shell and
-shrapnel, with loud-mouthed defiance, went screaming over our heads,
-hissing as though saying to the foe, “Get outtt offf thattttt!” it was
-comforting to us, who had met with the check.
-
-“I tell _you_,” said Hen. Goodwin approvingly, “them gunners are
-hustlers, and that Boche bunch will have to climb down or get out
-pretty soon!” But they didn’t!
-
-Then information came--how, I do not know--that the enemy lines were
-so formed that we could get at them by a flank approach. A plan was
-accordingly made to strike their flank and front simultaneously and
-capture or drive them back.
-
-The land was rolling ground, like that of my native Massachusetts; and
-the enemy at this place was posted on a ridge with their right flank
-imperfectly protected by their machine-guns. The plan was to strike
-this exposed flank and at the same time attack in front.
-
-I was put in command of about a hundred men, besides my platoon, which
-I had for some time been commanding, to make the contemplated flank
-attack.
-
-The night was as dark as “a stack of black cats,” when we silently
-marched to the position assigned for assault on the enemy’s flank, and
-where we were to await the signal to charge.
-
-We got there all right and in the darkness were ambushed ready for our
-part, when the enemy in some unaccountable way discovered our approach.
-This upset the plan we had formed, and I was, naturally, undecided what
-to do; whether to retreat--which I had no inclination for--or assault;
-when the Boche forced my hand by a furious onset.
-
-I did not stop to argue the question of fight or retreat then, with
-myself or any one else. The time had come to fight; and all questions
-of strategy must yield to this simple fact. We had four of the new
-machine-guns which had lately come to us, and which could be carried
-like an ordinary rifle on the shoulder, and I had a good deal of
-confidence in them.
-
-My orders were for every man to go forward, protecting himself by the
-ground, when he could, and fight with all the fight that was in him!
-The sun was up when I gave the order, “Forward!” The men answered with
-a cheer, and rushed in quick time to a place about twenty yards from us
-to the front. Every man was ordered to reserve his fire until he could
-make sure of downing an enemy, or for dangerous emergencies--which,
-heaven knows, were more likely to occur than not. Then we made another
-rush, relying upon our courage and our bayonets to drive out the
-foe. We were successful at first in rolling up Fritz’s flank, by our
-audacious and unexpected tactics. I gave the order for the line again
-to go forward at a jump and, as Sam sometimes expressed it, for every
-man to “holler his head off,” hoping by this means to shake the nerve
-of the enemy and, at the same time, let our main force know that we
-were fighting, and guess that we were in need of help.
-
-For personal defence I had my revolver and an old German cavalry sword
-which I had picked up, and though without great confidence in the
-outcome, I could see no other way than, as Hen. Goodwin said, “to get a
-good run for my money.”
-
-My men, without exception, fought like wildcats and, if noise counted,
-the Boche must have thought that there was an army of us, and those new
-guns must have helped them think so. Hen. Goodwin had one of them, Sam
-and Sutherland one and I have forgotten who had the others.
-
-We were in the midst of the fracas, when we heard a long, wild
-heartening cheer from our lines. That encouraged us. We were then
-sheltering ourselves as best we could, picking off the enemy at every
-chance, hoping to hold them back until rescue came. The new guns were
-_great_, and were worked to the utmost by the men who had them.
-
-We were trying to make a cautious fight; but the enemy would not let
-us. They outnumbered us three to one. But we didn’t mind that so much
-as we did that they could better protect themselves than we could,
-and attack, while we found it hard to get at them over the rough
-intervening ground.
-
-Such was our situation when we heard the bugle from our lines sounding
-the retreat.
-
-We were losing men fast it is true; and it was not likely to be a
-winning fight if we got no help. But I could see no good in retreating,
-when I could save more men by fighting. And I had no stomach for
-running away from the rascally Huns, so long as I _could_ fight. The
-advantage was with the enemy both in superior numbers and in knowing
-the ground. It was plain, then, that we _must_ fight or--do worse.
-
-I gave a little talk to the men, during a momentary lull. “It is going
-to be some fight, men! And possibly we may get the worst of it. But it
-will be better for our pride and our skins to fight it out, than to
-turn tail. So let us trust to luck and our American grit and possible
-help, to lick them before they get us. Now fight like devils!”
-
-An amen of cheers was the response, and we continued to make short
-dashes over the rough ground, firing at every head we saw; for it was
-agreed we must thin the Boche off all we could, before the final tussle
-came.
-
-We got as near the enemy as was prudent by these short dashes, and then
-dug in; that is, we threw up with our knives and bayonets a little
-ridge of earth in front of us. We were on a slight rise in the ground
-which gave us a good view of the enemy, and a chance to pick them off.
-I had at that time about ninety-five men. I had lost in killed and
-wounded about thirty. But several of the wounded, including Goodwin and
-Sam, could still fight. None of my men had been made prisoners; but
-several--to put it mildly--were absent without leave.
-
-There was one friend that had stuck to me like wax, and that was my
-dog. Then a thought came to me. I scribbled a short note and addressed
-it to my captain, saying: “I am fighting in a tight place; Help!”
-Then fastening it in the dog’s collar, I headed him towards our lines
-saying: “Go!” He answered by running like the wind, and I knew that it
-would not be long before the captain got that message.
-
-[Illustration: “HE ANSWERED BY RUNNING LIKE THE WIND, AND I KNEW THAT
-IT WOULD NOT BE LONG BEFORE THE CAPTAIN GOT THAT MESSAGE.”--Page 166.]
-
-We were in a tight corner, almost surrounded, but fighting for all we
-were worth. Several of our best men were wounded or dead and the enemy
-shots came fast and thick. Hen. Goodwin, wounded in the arm and head,
-being no longer able to use his Browning machine-gun, I had taken it.
-I was firing fast, when I heard a prodigious cheer from our lines. My
-message had reached them.
-
-“Help is coming, men!” I said. “I have sent word by the dog, and that
-is the answer. Cheer up! We’ll get ’em yet!”
-
-Our group of fighters at this time was in pitiful plight. I had lost in
-killed and wounded over one third of my men since taking refuge behind
-that rise of ground. Sam was wounded but still fighting. Pat Quinn
-was bleeding from a wound in the head, but still firing--and making
-sulphurous talks to his comrades. It looked so discouraging that, but
-for the undaunted courage I saw in the faces of my men, I could almost
-have given up the fight in despair.
-
-“Hold on a little longer!” I cried. “Our men are coming!” But minutes
-seemed hours, as one after another of my men fell or cried out in
-anguish from their hurts.
-
-Strange to say, I thought of other things than the fight I was making;
-of my mother, of Jot and--some one else. One minute had passed--so my
-watch said--since hearing those reassuring cheers, but it seemed hours.
-I thought that Joshua must have been in the same kind of a fix when he
-thought the sun had stood still to give him victory.
-
-Another moment passed, then we heard a cheer still nearer.
-
-“Hear that!” I cried. “They are almost here! Help is coming!”
-
-But the Germans had heard it too. That which had encouraged us warned
-them. They were gathering for a final rush upon us. Why they had not
-rushed us before was a mystery to me (for I had been expecting it)
-unless they thought to fight safely--and in the end were confident they
-would get us.
-
-“Pick them off!” I cried. “Don’t let one of them get away!” It was a
-foolish command, perhaps, for there was a big band of them. _Crack!
-Crack! Crack!_ and every rifle and machine-gun did its work, until they
-were dangerously near. Just then I felt a sharp blow on my left arm,
-which made me drop the Browning gun.
-
-We fell back a few yards to get time, but it wouldn’t do! “Stand up,
-men!” I cried. “Go for them with your bayonets!”
-
-In another instant, volley after volley from our rescuers sent the
-Boche staggering back. We were rescued.
-
-I had turned my head to see our comrades who had delivered us, when my
-foot caught between two stones. In trying to liberate it, I wrenched
-my ankle sadly. Before I could get away I was seized by two Boches and
-absolutely carried away as a prisoner of war.
-
-My only consolation was that I had made a good fight. And that _was_ a
-consolation; though being a prisoner to the Boche was not.
-
-The result of the fight, as I learned later, was that a small part
-of the German line was driven back from their strong position, many
-killed, and many prisoners taken. We had made good.
-
-Still I was far from being reconciled. A prisoner seldom is.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
-
-
-The German soldiers, who were guarding me, seemed to be decent sort of
-men, and treated me fairly well, as soldiers who have been fighting
-each other usually act. All through my army experience I have found
-that those in safe non-combatant positions are the most fierce and
-relentless towards those who are disarmed and helpless. My captors
-allowed me to use my first aid bandages, with which I bound up my hurts
-as best I could.
-
-The sprain was so painful that I could not walk, and they had almost to
-carry me to the rear. My arm also stung.
-
-I noticed on every side the destruction wrought by war. I could not
-have believed such ruin possible, had I not seen it. Abandoned guns,
-broken gun-carriages and air craft, ammunition piled up to be abandoned
-or destroyed, supplies and munitions amid wrecks of ruined buildings,
-and trampled yellow grain. Several of these grain fields had been
-fired by the invaders and extinguished by the merciful rain. Among the
-life-sustaining grain were dead men, dead horses and in two instances
-I saw badly wounded Prussian soldiers that had been abandoned in the
-necessity for haste, or because they were of no further use. There
-were, also, the lesser wreckage of fragments of clothing, knapsacks,
-broken rifles and innumerable small fragments of war’s ruin and ravage.
-
-I was in considerable pain and constantly cried out when hurried; for
-I intended to emphasize my injuries for purposes of my own. My captors
-were, apparently, disgusted with me. They talked and gestured until I
-began to fear that they were debating whether or not to lessen their
-trouble by knocking me on the head. Finally they picked up a discarded
-rifle, halted, and fitted a piece of wood in the muzzle, and handing it
-to me, made motions that I was to use it for a crutch.
-
-That night, while shut in the room of a partially ruined dwelling, I
-was helped to wash, and put cold water bandages on my hurts and slept
-fairly well. In the morning the pain from my sprain was mostly gone.
-I washed my wounded arm and wet and rewound my bandages. I could have
-walked had I chose; but I determined to keep that hurt for strategic
-use; for I had firmly resolved not to go to a German prison. Their
-reputation as providers was so bad that, to use expressive slang, “I
-couldn’t see it.”
-
-All the food I was given up to that time was some coarse wheat bread
-and not a scrap of meat; and some hot water bewitched into imitation of
-coffee. But the guards themselves did not have any better fare so far
-as I could see.
-
-One of my two guards was a clean-faced, good-looking German boy who
-seemed of a higher class than his heavy-faced comrade. He took my
-crutch from me and made motions that I was to stand. I tried to look
-meek and obedient, and cried out and buckled up with pretended pain.
-Seeing this, he restored my rifle crutch, and put one hand under my arm
-to help me as I limped painfully along.
-
-While I was on the outlook for a chance to use my crutch for a club and
-my legs for escape, my hopes were dashed by the guard taking me to a
-large house, around which sentinels were stationed.
-
-After a parley with a sentinel who was pacing the broad doorway, I was
-conducted into a large room where were several officers, orderlies and
-clerks, some of them writing at a big table, on which were spread maps,
-papers, and big books that looked like ledgers.
-
-No notice was taken of me at first. The clerks continued writing, the
-officers talking, until there bustled into the room a tall, blond
-officer with several decorations flashing on his breast, and an air
-of decision and command that can not be expressed in words. The other
-officers clicked their heels and saluted, the clerks did the same. The
-officer made a careless but graceful acknowledgment by return salute,
-spoke a few sharp guttural words that set several of the officers and
-attendants hustling and addressed a few words to a man, who but for his
-uniform looked like a clerk. Then turning to me, he motioned for me to
-stand, and in good English interrogated:
-
-“What is your regiment?”
-
-I told him, for I could not see how he could get any good out of the
-truth.
-
-“Oh,” he said, “a Massachusetts man. What part?”
-
-“Western Massachusetts, Berkshire county.”
-
-“Your name?”
-
-“Second Lieutenant David Stark.”
-
-“How many men have you here?”
-
-“I don’t know, but a lot of them and more coming.”
-
-He spoke a few words of command to the clerk, who pulled out a big
-ledger-looking book, ran his finger over its pages, and made some
-answer, then resumed his interrogations.
-
-“Why are you in the army?”
-
-“I like it, sir.”
-
-He smiled a wry smile, and asked, “You’ve got over that by this time?”
-
-“Not much,” I replied defiantly.
-
-“Ach!” he snarled. “You like it?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“You are of the New Hampshire Starks, perhaps?”
-
-“My folks came from there originally.”
-
-I was amazed at his exact knowledge--and showed it.
-
-He smiled and continued, “The Cromwell Roundhead breed!”
-
-Then he questioned me sharply about the American army, to most of which
-I replied, “I don’t know.” I think that he got little satisfaction out
-of the answers.
-
-“Did you know,” he finally said sharply, scrutinizing my face closely,
-“a Lieutenant Nickerson of your regiment?”
-
-The question, coming abruptly, threw me a little off my balance, but
-I replied steadily, “I did know a person who called himself by that
-name; but I should not know him now.”
-
-“How’s that?” he inquired crisply.
-
-“I once thought him to be a true man, and I would not like to kill him,
-as I might have to do should we meet again.”
-
-“Why?”
-
-“He has turned traitor and spy. Such men should be shot.”
-
-“Ach! Then you’d kill a Prussian soldier--a gentleman?”
-
-“Yes, sir; that’s what we are here in France for!” But my own words cut
-me to the heart, when I had spoken them of Jot.
-
-With a gesture of dismissal he turned from me to one of the officers,
-and made a remark that I did not understand. But his face and manner
-led me to believe that he had got something out of my replies not
-displeasing to him.
-
-Sharply giving more orders, with more clicking of heels and salutes,
-he entered a near-by door to his private office. I was informed,
-afterwards, that this officer had, previous to the war, been a
-professor in one of our New England colleges.
-
-Under guard of the young soldier I have mentioned, I was conducted,
-limping, to the street, helped through the doorway of an isolated
-wall--all that was left standing of a building--and found myself in an
-enclosure of barbed wire.
-
-In this pen were other American officers and soldiers, and several
-Frenchmen.
-
-“More fish,” cried out a corporal.
-
-I was in bad humor and replied savagely: “Speak for yourself. If you
-think it is funny to be here, I don’t.”
-
-“It’s Lieutenant Stark!” exclaimed a soldier, coming to me and
-saluting. He was one of my men of yesterday’s fight.
-
-Then a captain came forward with extended hand saying, “You made a good
-fight. I was with the rescue party and saw some of it and heard more.
-Were you wounded?”
-
-“Slightly,” I said, with a motion towards the wounded arm; “but they
-wouldn’t have got me, but for this sprained ankle.” And I limped
-forward and sat down with my back to the wall.
-
-“Then you didn’t surrender?”
-
-“No, sir.”
-
-“He ain’t that breed of cats,” said my soldier--Private George Williams.
-
-“Then what breed of cats is he?” asked another flippantly. Prisoners
-don’t stand much on ceremony.
-
-“Tiger cat!” replied Williams. Then I saw him talking with those around
-him, and I inferred that he was telling about the fight.
-
-A lieutenant whose manner I did not like--and there are a good many
-things I am not pleased with, when I am hungry--came to me, and in an
-insinuating way asked, “Any chance of making a break here?”
-
-“I haven’t thought of it,” I replied. “I have just come.”
-
-I distrusted the man, I do not know why, except that his manner was
-over sweet. Then he suggested a plan so impractical that I wondered if
-he was in his senses.
-
-“What do you think of it?” he inquired.
-
-“Good idea!” I replied, “if you are figuring to get killed.”
-
-I turned my back on the fellow, and made up my mind that whatever plans
-might be made in the future, I would have no part in any that _he_
-might have a part in; which only shows how strong my prejudices are
-about people to whom I have taken a dislike.
-
-“What are the chances for ‘chow,’ Williams?” I called.
-
-“Haven’t seen any, or smelled a sniff of any since I got here,” he
-replied. “I guess the Kaiser when he planned this war forgot that cog
-in its wheels; for prisoners at least.”
-
-It certainly looked like it, and I was hungry enough to eat a Boche
-uncooked, when about four o’clock in the afternoon some wheat bread and
-vegetable soup were given us--but not enough for a hungry man.
-
-I still persisted in having a lame ankle, and if my face and actions
-were to be taken in evidence, it was a corker.
-
-I made several acquaintances among the officers and privates too during
-the day, and talked with Williams about the prospects of making an
-escape. To which he replied: “There ain’t any!” And I finally agreed
-with him.
-
-So I rolled up in my blankets, and went sound asleep.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII HELD BY THE ENEMY
-
-
-I was awakened by a tumult of voices, and by men stumbling over me.
-So sound had been my sleep that at first I did not recognize my
-surroundings. A throng of new prisoners was coming through the narrow
-door near where I was lying.
-
-I sat up with my back against the wall, to see if there were any that I
-knew, and also to take advantage of any circumstance that might favor
-me. I did not recognize any of the men, but spoke to some of them. One
-big fellow trod on my feet and, stumbling, sprawled across me.
-
-“Look out!” I cried, “there’s more room standing up than in lying down!”
-
-“What’s the matter, boy?” said the stumbler; “what are you yelping
-about?”
-
-“Matter enough,” I replied, “when a ton of a man hits a sore leg!”
-
-He made no immediate reply except to say, “Which leg is it?” And then,
-unwinding my puttee and the bandage, began rubbing my leg with his
-strong magnetic hands. Then skillfully rewinding the bandage, he asked:
-“What’s the matter with your arm?”
-
-“Bullet hole,” I replied. “But it is all right.”
-
-He turned back my slit sleeve, unwound the bandage, took a critical
-look, and said, “See here, youngster, you haven’t been giving that arm
-a fair chance.”
-
-“What do you know about it?” I asked rather testily. “It don’t hurt
-much.”
-
-“It’s inflamed and in pretty bad shape,” he replied half to
-himself; and then in answer to my question, “I am something of a
-surgeon-graduate of a medical school.”
-
-Then, with medicaments taken from his kit he cleansed and bandaged the
-wound, saying emphatically as he turned down my sleeve, “You’ll be
-short an arm if you aren’t careful!”
-
-“I guess not,” I replied carelessly. “I am expecting to get among
-civilized folks before long and have it fixed all right.”
-
-“Oh, that’s it, is it? Well, you’ve got confidence in yourself. How do
-you plan to get away?”
-
-“I am watching for a chance.”
-
-For awhile he made no talk, remaining silent as though thinking,
-then said, “See here; suppose we chum together? I see that you are a
-lieutenant. My name is Gordon; I am an assistant surgeon. You’ve got
-confidence and courage. I’ve got some sense and lots of strength,
-besides a good arm and leg. Any objection to my following your lead?”
-
-“No,” I said, “I like you; I think that you’ve got the right stuff and
-I may need you.”
-
-He smiled quizzically, and inquired, “Had much to eat?”
-
-“No, I feel as empty as a vacuum.”
-
-“Stay here, and I will see what I can do.”
-
-Making his way through the crowd, he disappeared.
-
-It was stifling hot, and the newcomers injected into this small area
-had crowded it unmercifully.
-
-Meanwhile I thought over the situation, and tried to form a general
-plan for escape. I also thought over the possibilities of Jot’s being
-in that sector of the enemy’s lines. I inferred from the questions
-asked me under examination, that he was known in that sector and that
-his loyalty to the German cause had been questioned.
-
-I was turning over in my mind some of the incidents of our long
-acquaintance, and wondering at its contradictory phases. In the midst
-of my reflections I felt my arm grasped by Gordon who exclaimed softly,
-“Wake up, Lieutenant! There’s something doing!”
-
-In an instant I was alert and observant. “Yes,” I said, “it looks as
-though they were going to take us away from here.”
-
-A German officer with several non-commissioned officers and privates
-had begun to count the men, form them into military groups, and march
-them through the doorway.
-
-“They are separating the men from the officers,” said Gordon. “Possibly
-we may remain here.”
-
-“I think not,” I replied. “They will be keeping us on the move. If I am
-not mistaken their whole army is falling back. They need all the wheels
-they have got and legs are cheaper, especially if they belong to us;
-and they don’t care a bit for our comfort.”
-
-So it proved.
-
-After the men and non-commissioned officers had been moved out, there
-remained about twenty French and American officers.
-
-Rations of bread, vegetable soup, and imitation coffee, were given us;
-and, after giving our names and rank, we too were marched from the
-enclosure and through the half-ruined village.
-
-On all sides were evidences of hasty but methodical retreat. Long
-lines of German infantry, light artillery and heavy guns on tractors,
-caissons, ammunition wagons, pontoon trains and other belongings of a
-monster army, were moving over the roads to the rear, or into position
-for defence and battle. The roads, gullied by rains, cut up by wheels
-of heavy gun carriages, tractors and other vehicles, were in poor
-condition for haste.
-
-On one side of the heavily burdened roads, directed by the guard, we
-picked our way. Everywhere were the German wounded, some conveyed on
-gun carriages, others in baggage wagons and ambulances. Some of our
-guard even were slightly wounded men, others were old and war-worn
-soldiers.
-
-About six o’clock that afternoon we came to a halt in a field where
-grain had been harvested and stacked. A guard was stationed around us,
-and we were glad to rest. The weather was hot and uncomfortable; but
-the sky grew suddenly darkened, and a tempest was upon us. Gordon, who
-had been with me during the day’s march, pretending to help me, hurried
-me to one of the grain stacks where with our blankets we were able
-partially to shelter ourselves from the rain.
-
-Soon as we had protected ourselves from the downpour, Gordon said,
-“We have got to escape before we get too weak from being underfed and
-overmarched, and they get us on a train to take us to a German prison.
-I have bought, begged, and stolen all the food I could get before we
-left that barbed wire coop where I found you. What have you got?”
-
-“Not much,” I replied; “a piece of bread about as big as my hand. I
-have been too confounded hungry to save more from the little that I
-have received.”
-
-He sat thinking for a while, and then said: “Everything will count
-in an escape. A starving man would be in poor shape for quick and
-determined action.”
-
-“Yes,” I assented, “a full stomach gives courage!”
-
-He laughed one of his inward chuckles and observed: “I guess that you
-are a good feeder like myself, and that you are right hungry.”
-
-“Just that,” I agreed; “but I won’t mind that if we can only get away.”
-
-“All right, comrade, we will divide up now,” he decided; “for you may
-have a chance to get away before I do, or if we escape together we may
-be separated. It ain’t much, but I am going to whack up even.”
-
-“You are a good fellow,” I said. “Where are you from?” For up to this
-time I had not asked that question.
-
-“Virginia,” he replied, “and I am proud of it. You are a Yank, I
-reckon, but I know a white man when I see him. My old dad was a
-Confederate soldier.”
-
-“And mine,” I said, “was a Union soldier.”
-
-“Shake!” he said, extending his hand. And we shook hands heartily.
-
-After awhile I saw him with his hands among the grain.
-
-“Say,” he said, “here’s a find! They haven’t threshed this grain yet.
-Stow some of it away in your pockets. It’s good food at a pinch without
-cooking.”
-
-I had a wallet-like envelope of oil cloth which I showed him.
-
-“Just the thing,” he said.
-
-We rubbed the ears of grain in our hands, and secured about a quart
-apiece before we went to sleep that night.
-
-On awaking I found the sun shining, the sky clear, and the weather
-cooler than the day previous. As there were no immediate indications
-of moving, we spread our blankets on the grain stack to dry. And then
-we had a long talk.
-
-I told him all about Jot and his desertion, as I had never told it
-to any one before. There was something about him that drew me out to
-confide in him my inmost thoughts. He asked several questions and then,
-after a moment’s silence he looked me in the face, and gave one of his
-inward chuckles.
-
-“What is it?” I said. “To me it seems a _crying_ matter.”
-
-“So it does, chum,” he said soberly; “I can understand your feelings.
-But you have, with all of your Yankee intelligence, a childish streak
-in you.”
-
-“What do you mean?” I asked with some stiffness.
-
-“Don’t you see that it is more than likely, your friend and his brother
-are both in the secret service of our army? You know that Foch got
-information of the German plans, and has been posted from the first
-about what they were going to do. I shouldn’t wonder if your chum and
-his brother had a hand in it. From what you have told me I infer that
-they know how to keep their lips shut. And that dog and horse! My! If
-it is as I think, it’s fine! But still, it _may_ possibly be the other
-way.”
-
-I forgot my present troubles--even my hunger--as I grasped his hand.
-“By George!” I cried, and turned my head to hide the tears--but they
-were tears of joy.
-
-He radiated an indefinable smile and said, “There’s nothing certain,
-but I reckon that your friend is white.” And then added, “You are a
-good deal of a child yet, Stark. Don’t mind if I tell you so. You see
-things more with your eyes than with your mind, and can’t understand a
-two-sided game--because you haven’t any two sides to yourself. You’re
-honest.”
-
-I didn’t exactly understand his view, and asked: “How about this
-sprain, Gordon? Is that honest, too?”
-
-But he only laughed one of his internal chuckles, and began talking of
-other things.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII A HAZARD OF FORTUNE
-
-
-Again we found ourselves on the march.
-
-The weather was warm and moist, something like our dog days, though
-cooler at night and during the morning hours. Our guard of six were old
-or war-worn soldiers, inclined to be ill-tempered, and disagreeable
-enough upon little provocation. One of them near me struck a lieutenant
-with the butt of his rifle because, having a head wound, he had become
-unsteady and had staggered against him. As he struck him the second
-time, I would have interfered, but for my comrade who, seeing my anger,
-restrained me. I uttered, however, an angry imprecation, which of
-course the guard did not comprehend, though he evidently did understand
-that I resented his brutality.
-
-“Wait,” said Gordon, “by and by it may be more convenient to have a
-row with him--but I reckon not; it’s a mighty poor plan to play with
-powder.”
-
-During the day, we were often required to march in the fields by the
-side of the roads, to make way for passage of troops and war vehicles.
-In the afternoon, however, we turned off on a road in a north-east
-direction that was less congested with troops and military material.
-
-When we were halted, and rations of the same meagre and unpalatable
-kind were issued to us, my comrade and I held a consultation, taking
-care, however, that our manner should not excite suspicion.
-
-“It is possible,” said Gordon, “that before long we may be put on the
-cars and sent by train to some German prison; and then, our chances to
-escape will be small.”
-
-“I wonder if any of these men speak English,” I mused.
-
-“I reckon not,” said Gordon. “But I can speak enough German to make
-myself understood.”
-
-“Have you heard them say where they are taking us?”
-
-He shook his head. “These men know nothing beyond their orders, and
-possibly only that non-com. knows that much. These German officers give
-orders, but don’t explain them. I do know that they expect to cross a
-river soon. I heard them asking if there was a bridge, and making jokes
-about swimming.”
-
-“Can you swim, Gordon?”
-
-“Like a duck,” he answered, “and I sure would like to take a dive right
-now!”
-
-“Same here,” I said; “I had some fine swimming when I was on my
-permission. Can you guess what time we shall reach that river?”
-
-“By the way they are hurrying us, I should say it would be late in the
-day; but I really know nothing about it; it’s only a surmise.”
-
-“I have a plan,” I said, “I know something about pontoon bridges made
-of boats. I wonder if we could make them believe that neither of us
-can swim?” Then I told him of my scheme.
-
-Nothing more was said for a long time, as we marched along the road,
-I still hobbling on my improvised crutch and my comrade pretending to
-help me occasionally.
-
-Quite late in the day we came to a narrow but apparently deep stream
-where the guard halted. Gordon told me later that they discussed with
-the non-commissioned officer, whether or not it wouldn’t be best to try
-to find a ford, as it would save a mile or more of travel.
-
-Then they made motions to us, to know if we could swim, to which we
-both replied by shaking our heads and pretending to be frightened.
-
-So again we began our march by a road that led along the stream. I
-pretended to be very tired, and occasionally jostled against the guard
-that was marching near me. He cried out angrily and pushed me with his
-rifle. When I jostled against him again, he threatened me with the
-butt of it. I was getting on bad terms with him; for he did not have
-the sweetest of tempers. I am afraid my face showed him that it would
-be more than agreeable to me if I could kick him; for he grew more and
-more disagreeable.
-
-It was nearly dark and clouds darkened the sky, when we came to a
-pontoon boat bridge.
-
-“I am awfully afraid of water,” I said to Gordon with a wink. “It would
-be just my confounded luck to fall overboard here and drown. It don’t
-look safe.”
-
-As our group reached the bridge, I pretended to grow very timid about
-trusting myself on it. The guard near me was tired and ugly. I started
-and jostled against him, and he struck me with the butt of his rifle,
-which I returned with an angry look and gesture; for that is a language
-that any one can understand.
-
-The bridge was made up of about twenty boats, which showed me that the
-stream was about two hundred and seventy feet in width, or more. The
-water looked dark, but I was not sure that it was deep.
-
-About the middle of the bridge I lurched against the same guard
-heavily, as though by accident, and he struck me a heavy blow with his
-rifle. With a yell I went overboard, threw up my hands, and sank.
-
-I had taken a deep breath for a long swim under water, for I had fallen
-on the down tide side and would have to swim against the current to
-come up under the bridge, as I intended to do. I was almost exhausted
-when, looking upward, I saw I was under one of the boats. I took
-another long stroke and, fortunately, came up between two boats, but
-to my alarm saw that I was not under the covered portion that formed
-the roadway. I quickly submerged, and without being seen reached a safe
-place and clutched the gunwale of a covered boat.
-
-I heard a tumult of trampling feet on the planks above me, with calls
-and outcries. Then it occurred to me that some one might look under the
-planking; so I dove under the boat, swam to one that was nearer the
-shore from which we had come, and waited again until their footsteps
-receded to the other end of the bridge, and I was satisfied that they
-had abandoned further search for me.
-
-But what had become of my chum? He was to have followed me.
-
-I stayed under the bridge, keeping myself above water by holding on
-to a boat, until it was very dark, then swimming quietly down stream,
-landed on the shore, thinking it safer to keep away from the roadway
-for a time.
-
-I was lying on my stomach, looking and listening, and trying to make
-out which was south, but with neither moon or stars visible, I could
-only guess. I was in a quandary. It would not do to blunder, for fear
-of getting caught, which was likely enough with the country swarming
-with Boches.
-
-I finally made up my mind to reach the bridge once more, and get the
-points of the compass thereby. I walked for a long distance without
-seeing the bridge, which I had thought to be near me. Was it possible
-that they had removed it?
-
-I was lying in the grass thinking it over, when I heard the roar of
-wheels and the tramping of men on what I knew must be the bridge; but
-it was in a different direction from what I thought it to be.
-
-I waited an hour until the sounds died entirely away. Then I crept
-cautiously to the bridge to get my bearings. I had approached the
-bridge through the field, mostly on my hands and knees, and was about
-to get to my feet, when I saw--or did I only imagine it?--a dark figure
-slowly moving on the road, occasionally stopping as though to look or
-listen. I saw this figure so indistinctly that, as I have said, I
-at times questioned its reality. Then the moon came out from behind
-a cloud, and I no longer doubted. It was a man. And I had but little
-doubt that it was a German soldier who had been left behind to hunt me
-down.
-
-I moved cautiously, crouching in the short grass, observing the
-movements of the man, and dreading lest he had spied me out as I had
-him. Then he suddenly disappeared from view. I waited awhile; then, not
-seeing him, I began cautiously to move along the field parallel with
-the road, occasionally stopping to look and listen. At last, believing
-the course to be clear, I walked as fast as my feet could carry me,
-though still keenly observant with eyes and ears, of everything near me.
-
-Again I heard a rustling sound near by which sent me crouching to the
-ground again. But, seeing and hearing nothing more, I went forward
-again, and again dropped to the ground to listen.
-
-Then I heard a loud, hoarse whisper, which, but for the words
-distinctly enunciated, I should have mistaken for the wind in the
-tree tops: “Stark! Stark! David!” I did not trust my senses, for my
-imagination had deceived me more than once in my life when under
-excitement, and might again be deluding me.
-
-From the shadows again came the whisper--“Dave! Dave! Dave! Is it you?”
-
-I sprang up, and there stood erect a form I could mistake for no one
-else than my comrade, Gordon.
-
-In another moment we had clasped hands.
-
-So deep had been my emotions of fear and hope during that short
-interval of suspense, that I could only thank God for that which had
-seemed to be peril, was the reverse.
-
-“It won’t do to talk here,” he said; “let us get back into the field.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV LOOSE AMONG THE BOCHES
-
-
-“It is plain to me,” said Gordon, “that you are not a hunter, and have
-never stalked deer as I have often done. If it had been a Boche instead
-of me, you would have been captured or shot, when you were so near me.”
-
-“But how,” I asked, “did you get away from them?”
-
-“When you were knocked overboard,” he answered, “there was a good deal
-of confusion. The sergeant commanding the guard made motions urging me
-to go to your rescue. None of them wanted to try it, and when I had
-made him understand that I could not swim, enough time had passed for
-any reasonable man to drown; and no real effort was made to rescue you
-or to retrieve your body. Then the guard who knocked you overboard was
-scolded by the sergeant, not particularly for striking you, but for
-making it hard for him to account for a missing prisoner. There was a
-rejoinder that there was one less American pig to feed, which caused
-a laugh. And just then, when attention was drawn from me, I softly
-slipped into the water and, swimming under for some distance, at last
-crawled upon the shore.
-
-“Apparently they did not discover my absence for some time. Then they
-came tramping back across the bridge, looking in the ends of the boats
-and then beneath the planking. When they got to this end of the bridge,
-I heard one of our officers suggest to the sergeant that you were not
-drowned but faking it.”
-
-“Did that fellow who was giving me away have a voice like the purr of
-a cat--too sweet to be honest?” I asked suddenly.
-
-“I reckon that’s him to a T. How did you happen to know him?”
-
-“I spotted him,” I answered, “the first hour I was in that Boche wire
-coop, and I wouldn’t trust him for a cent’s worth.”
-
-“I reckoned you felt it rather than reasoned it; didn’t you?”
-
-“That’s about it,” I replied. “I always did have ‘hunches’--and I
-wouldn’t have shaken hands with him with a pair of tongs.”
-
-“I reckon we are twins. I have that same feeling about some folks
-myself.”
-
-Gordon and I were glad of each other’s company, though neither of us
-said much about it; for between some folks there is no need to say
-things. That night we walked rapidly; for my comrade’s trained senses
-enabled him to see and travel in the dark without missing the right
-direction. Sometimes we kept the road in view for guidance, but he
-seemed never to have doubts of the right road.
-
-When daylight came, we found a hiding place in what, at first, we
-thought was a quarry, but soon saw excavations that told us it had
-been used by both the French and German soldiers for bomb proofs and
-other military service. We halted and made a breakfast from our tins
-and wheat bread, and lay there for most of the day, taking turns in
-standing guard, while the other slept.
-
-I think that I was, possibly, doing more than my share of sleeping,
-when Gordon awakened me, and with a motion to keep silent, said in a
-whisper: “There are some folks near here--quite a lot of them--sounds
-like women--and I think they are French. But as we used to say in the
-Medical School, ‘Don’t be sure of your subject until you are certain it
-is a dead one.’ So you stay here until I find out what it means.”
-
-It was a full half-hour before he returned, saying, “There is a nest of
-people in an underground dugout. I reckon that the question before the
-house is, shall we make their acquaintance, or skip them.”
-
-“Can you speak French?” I inquired.
-
-“Not ten cents’ worth,” he replied. “Can you?”
-
-“Well,” I said, following his simile, “about twenty cents’ worth.”
-
-“A few words,” he observed, “are sometimes better than a sermon.”
-
-“All right,” I said, “we will chance it.”
-
-“We’d better doll up a little first,” suggested Gordon. “You’d look
-better to get them weeds and burs out of your hair, chum.”
-
-“And you,” I retorted, “would look less like a bear from the wilderness
-if you shaved and washed.”
-
-“No soap or razor,” said Gordon, “but I will do it, if you will produce
-them.”
-
-“I am more provident,” I said; “when I travel, I travel first
-class”--showing a comb and other articles.
-
-“That’s fine!” he agreed. “But I don’t see what you carry a razor for
-with nothing to shave--that I can see.”
-
-When he had shaved, as he said, “with tears,” for he declared that
-the razor was as “full of gaps as a hand saw,” we were ready for the
-interview.
-
-After some search we found the entrance to the excavation, and
-introduced ourselves to the people. But instead of the welcome we had
-expected, they drew together like so many frightened sheep, and made
-outcries of fear and held up their hands in supplication.
-
-“We are Americans,” I said, expecting that this would calm their fears;
-but to my surprise they became still more frantic.
-
-Then an old crippled man cried out in broken English, “We know
-you--devils! The German soldiers have warned us that Americans are
-savages and kill everybody on sight.”
-
-It was some time before we convinced them that the Americans had come
-to France to help them, and were fighting on their side.
-
-This German lie to these people showed the deep cunning of the enemy to
-prejudice the French peasants against American soldiers.
-
-One old Frenchman told us that he had once lived in Montreal, and had
-a little shop there, but had come home two years before the war. The
-Germans, he said, had taken everything away from them and destroyed
-their homes.
-
-We tried to tell them of the victories the French and Americans had
-achieved, but they could not believe it; for the Germans had told them
-that they were besieging Paris and that London had been destroyed. It
-was hard to convince these poor people of the truth, and they still
-shrank at our approach.
-
-We remained with them two hours or more and then, fearing that some
-of the Huns might return, we resumed our journey, which, with the
-information the Frenchman gave us, and a little compass that Gordon
-carried offered fair directions for reaching our lines.
-
-When morning came we recognized by the sound of guns and in other ways
-known to soldiers, that we were near the German lines. We found a
-hiding place in a field where there were some stacks of straw, and soon
-saw the troops of the enemy moving over the near-by roads.
-
-“I judge,” I said, “that there is going to be a fight near here, and
-the enemy are concentrating for it; but I believe it is a rear-guard
-action, to make their way clear for still further retreat.”
-
-It was not long before an outburst of artillery and machine-gun fire
-confirmed this belief. The sound of combat grew nearer and nearer
-showing that the Boches were falling back.
-
-“Let’s get out of this,” said Gordon, “for the enemy will be falling
-back here before long, and we will be caught. When it comes night, they
-will be after this straw for bedding.”
-
-It was fortunate that we got away when we did, for before long we saw
-soldiers going into the field and streaming back with sheaves of straw.
-
-In another hour by crawling through a bit of woodland we came to an
-abandoned village which, apparently, the Huns had occupied, and which
-now was a wrecked heap of masonry and jagged walls. Here we thought no
-human being would resort, or Huns approach, for there was nothing to
-steal or destroy, but to our surprise we came upon an aged couple still
-clinging to their ruined home. They had a few tattered bed clothes
-and garments, some wheat that they had apparently gathered from the
-near-by fields, a few potatoes, but not a scrap of bread or meat. Their
-condition was so pitiable that we attempted in our poor French to
-condole with them. They must have partially understood, for the old man
-shook his head and with trembling voice said, “_C’est la guerre_.”
-
-Thus we traveled for several nights, lying very close during the day,
-without incident worthy of record except getting wet and tired. The
-country hereabouts was rough and hilly and sparsely inhabited by French
-speaking people, mostly of the peasant class, with whom we came in
-contact but twice, and that in an accidental way.
-
-It had been raining almost constantly. After traveling all night,
-drenched to the skin and weak with long hunger and exposure, I felt
-that I could not go further without rest and warmth. So, just before
-daylight, we crept into a thatched little barn where, in one secluded
-corner, there was some straw.
-
-“Say, chum!” said Gordon, “this is right comfortable.”
-
-“Yes,” I replied petulantly, “but ain’t it ‘right’ dangerous?”
-
-“We can’t have everything, Yank,” he replied. “We’ve got to chance it
-once in a while.”
-
-“Yes,” I assented, “but I’m afraid I’m all in. I’m all of a shiver.”
-
-After looking at my wound, my chum said, “That arm is right bad; and
-I don’t like them shivers you are having. If we don’t get into God’s
-country pretty soon, I reckon we shall have to do something desperate
-to get that arm fixed.”
-
-He covered me over with his coat, and heaped straw on top of that, and
-then after a while, asked anxiously, “Getting over them shivers?”
-
-“Yes,” I replied, “I am getting comfortable and warmer than I have been
-for a good while. Better take your coat.”
-
-“That’s good!” he said with a relieved expression. “Never mind about
-the coat. I was afraid that them shivers meant something more than
-cold.”
-
-I had dropped into the dreamless sleep of exhaustion when I was
-awakened by a sharp punch, and the rustling of the straw. Looking up, I
-saw an old man with a pitchfork in one hand, staring down upon me with
-eyes big with surprise and inquiry.
-
-My chum sprang up with a greeting in German, and was answered in French
-by the inquiry: “Who are you?”
-
-“Un Americain,” I answered quickly.
-
-He dropped his hay fork, and held out his arms to embrace me, then
-called to his wife; and as she spoke German quite well, we soon had an
-understanding with them.
-
-They said that though some of the French people of that country had
-become Germanized, they still loved “la belle France” and prayed for
-deliverance from the hated, overbearing Germans. They had conscripted
-his son and had taken his horse, his crop of potatoes and other food,
-for their soldiers.
-
-From them we learned that there was a heavy force of Germans a few
-miles away, but that they were constantly falling back before the
-French and Americans. They said, further, that many of the Boches they
-had met were discouraged and feared that they could not continue to
-fight much longer.
-
-The old man gave us food to continue our journey, saying: “We are good
-friends,” and then added ruefully, “_C’est la guerre_.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXV AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER
-
-
-A few days after this meeting we saw, while hiding in some woods,
-German artillery moving over near-by roads, and by this inferred that
-we were near the German lines, and that they were falling back.
-
-I was not sick but weak and tired. I lay down to rest and hide, while
-my chum left me to get some water, and forage for turnips or other
-food, still unharvested.
-
-I had waited for a long time--so it seemed to me--and becoming alarmed
-I cautiously started out to find him. Just as I had about given him up,
-he came creeping on his hands and knees through some underbrush saying,
-“Hist! The German devils are right thick around here; I have been
-trying to dodge them for an hour. Get down out of sight, chum!”
-
-All this was uttered in a hoarse whisper, and with an expression of
-alarm more ominous of danger than his words.
-
-We remained in our hiding place during most of that day, and at night
-began once more to travel cautiously, with many misgivings, westward,
-hoping to get through the German lines.
-
-“If it were not for our uniforms, chum,” said my comrade, “we would
-stand a better chance; but they are ‘a dead give away.’”
-
-We traveled slowly and warily--but at last, in some unexplainable way,
-we fell into a trap.
-
-We had stopped in a little depression of the ground in the outskirts of
-a wood near a little brook. Thinking it as good a place for concealment
-as we would find, we refreshed ourselves by bathing our hands and
-faces, after which Gordon began dressing my wound. He was rewinding
-the bandage, after washing it, when he stopped short and, in a whisper
-said, “What’s that?”
-
-But there was no need of an answer, for there came the sharp call:
-“Hande hoch!” And to enforce this order of “hands up” several rifle
-barrels pointed towards us from behind trees. We were caught.
-
-Our German captors were mostly young fellows who looked like students.
-With one exception, and that was an old grizzled sergeant, not one
-of them, I should judge, was over seventeen years of age. I learned
-through Gordon that they had but lately come in to the service, and
-they were greatly pleased to have captured us. The old sergeant spoke
-fair English.
-
-“Who are you?” he interrogated. “How came you inside our lines?”
-
-“We are Americans and escaping prisoners,” Gordon answered in German.
-
-“Ach!” he responded in English. “You gets avay?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-He allowed Gordon to finish dressing my wound, and after taking a look
-at it himself, said, when he saw that Gordon had some clean bandages,
-“Verbande” and coolly took most of them, with the grim remark: “May
-need these myself.”
-
-From this I inferred that linen bandages were scarce with them.
-
-Then came the order: “Vorwart!” and we were hurried forward to their
-headquarters, where we were halted and turned over to a new guard.
-
-For a while but little attention was given us, and we were allowed to
-lie down while awaiting--we knew not what.
-
-“It is rather disheartening,” I said, “to be gobbled when we were so
-close to our lines.”
-
-“Yes,” replied Gordon coolly, “but that was the place where we were
-most likely to get caught. Don’t look so glum; never say die, chum,
-until you are dead, and then--you can’t.”
-
-“They will be marching us to prison soon, I suppose,” I said.
-
-“Very likely,” replied Gordon; “but I will do my best to vote in the
-negative, as we used to say in our debating club.”
-
-We were brought to our feet by a command, and conducted by a guard
-to a shattered house, where we found ourselves in the presence of
-a black-headed, blotch-faced, severe-looking officer, who began to
-question us in imperfect English. Then, as we were unable to understand
-his questions, and he equally unable to understand our replies, he
-spoke a few guttural words to an orderly, who saluted and went away.
-
-As I stood at attention looking the ill-natured officer in the face, I
-noticed some one stop at my side and brush my elbow never so slightly,
-as if in warning, and at the same time slip something into my side
-pocket.
-
-I turned my head to look, and saw Lieutenant Jonathan Nickerson in
-the uniform of a German officer, clicking his heels and saluting his
-superior. It took all my resolution to appear unconcerned. I was so
-astonished that I could have been knocked down with a straw. But I knew
-I must be on my guard.
-
-Under direction of the officer, Jot, whom I took to be his aide, began
-to question me.
-
-“You are Americans?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“What regiment?”
-
-We answered that question and several other correctly.
-
-“How came you inside our lines?”
-
-“We had been made prisoners, but escaped, and at the time your men
-captured us, we were trying to get through your lines to our own.”
-
-The questions that followed were mostly about our army, and were
-answered in such way that little information was given.
-
-Gordon told me afterwards that Jot reported to the officer, “These are
-ignorant Americans. They don’t know anything that is taking place a
-foot beyond their noses. They are not educated like our soldiers.”
-
-So we were dismissed, and marched to a place where there were other
-prisoners, but none that I knew. From them, however, I learned that
-my own division was now on that front, and also got the comforting
-information that the Boches were being constantly beaten. But though
-comforting, it made me all the more impatient to be with my regiment
-again.
-
-My heart had given a great throb of pain when I had seen Jot’s face. It
-was worn as though by mental suffering and, at one time, when we were
-about leaving, it had such an expression of imploring love, that all my
-anger and distrust gave way to sympathy at sight of his dear face. As
-from our first acquaintance, I could not distrust his truthfulness or
-his friendship when in his presence.
-
-Then, remembering that something had been dropped into my coat
-pocket when he passed me, I drew out a little book. It was Jot’s New
-Testament, that I had often seen before, and had been given him by his
-mother when on her death-bed.
-
-I knew how highly he prized it, and as I held it in my hand I could
-almost feel his presence.
-
-I opened and examined it. The page on which his mother’s name had been
-written, with his own, was torn out; and upon examining its blank
-leaves I saw nothing to indicate why it had been given me. I was about
-to return it to my pocket, without further examination, when on one
-corner of a fly-leaf I saw written “1st chapter of St. John.” Then I
-remembered that we used to play at secret communications with each
-other, by marking the pages of a newspaper.
-
-I turned to that chapter, but could discover nothing, and was about to
-put it away, when I saw at the bottom in faint pencil lines the word,
-“Marked.”
-
-On further examination I found letters and words underscored, and by
-patient examination I got this message. “When you see me, watch. If I
-remove hat, _be careful_; if I take out handkerchief, _make ready_, _I
-have plan for your escape_. _When Jack is in your lines, rip saddle._”
-
-I had no need to re-read the message, for it was stamped upon my memory
-by the pains I had taken in deciphering it. Then I carefully erased the
-marks.
-
-All that day and the next we remained in the same place, but I saw
-nothing of Jot. It was Tuesday when we were put here, and by Wednesday
-several other American prisoners had been added to our party. The
-nearing sound of artillery and of fainter rifle fire told that a battle
-was on.
-
-A young non-commissioned officer who spoke English was put in charge
-of the guard. Once as he walked by my side, Jot came up and spoke a
-few words in German to him, and then took off his hat and used his
-handkerchief. It was the signal.
-
-Our next march began, with the sound of battle closing in around
-us. Later we halted to rest, and Gordon remarked while dressing my
-wound, “There don’t seem to be a right good chance for us to get away
-together, so do your best for yourself, and I will do the same for
-myself, and trust to chance for the rest.”
-
-Before I could reply the young sergeant on guard came up and said, “You
-are talking too much,”--and peremptorily ordered Gordon to another part
-of the line.
-
-Gordon shook hands with me at parting, saying, “When you get back into
-God’s country again, look me up,” and was gone.
-
-“Are you not needlessly severe?” I remonstrated to the sergeant. “He
-was dressing my wound, and you are taking away what little comfort a
-prisoner has by separating friends?”
-
-But he answered loudly as though accidentally addressing me in German:
-“Wenn sie versuchem sich zu entfernen, schiesse ich!”--and repeated in
-English, “If you try to run away, I’ll shoot you.” Then he added in a
-whisper while scarcely moving his lips, as he turned away, “Wait!”
-
-I could hardly believe I had heard it. Was _he_ in Jot’s service and
-a part of his plan? Nothing else occurred just then to confirm that
-belief. Could I have imagined I heard it? Hardly!
-
-Before night came on it began raining, and as I marched on, I was a
-prey to thoughts as dark as the clouds above me. Was this young German
-trying to test Jot’s loyalty to the German cause through me? Was there
-a trap set for both of us? But how could he do it?
-
-We were marched into a field, where there were stacks of straw and
-hay, and halted for the night. With the slight shelter afforded by my
-overcoat thrown over a portion of a straw stack I lay down, the young
-guard loudly and roughly repeating his warning about running away
-in German, and as though to enforce this, he sat down with his back
-against the stack near me.
-
-Most of the guard by this time were trying to shelter themselves from
-the storm by taking refuge near the stacks; but the young sergeant, as
-though determined to keep an eye on me, stretched himself by my side.
-
-I was napping when, to my surprise, the sergeant, clutching my arm with
-a whispered precaution for silence, said, “When you hear me snore, take
-my revolver, put on the coat that covers me, without getting to your
-feet. When I pinch your arm, creep to the other side of this stack,
-then go on keeping in line with the next stack ahead, and then the
-next, until you reach a tree on the road at the end of this field. If
-the alarm is not given, wait awhile and then give two whistles through
-your fingers for the horse. Give him the rein when you get into the
-saddle; he knows the way to your lines.”
-
-I could hardly believe my senses, much less my good fortune. I waited,
-it seemed for hours, and thought the signal would never come, or that
-I had been dreaming. Then it came and, reassured, I followed his
-instructions. I stealthily took the revolver, put it in my pocket, then
-removed the coat and put it on, and was about to move to the other
-side of the stack, when in a whisper, the sergeant said, “Wait. The
-countersign is _Blood and Iron_. Don’t use it unless obliged to; now
-wait again until I pinch.”
-
-I then saw, what I had not before observed, that there was a sentinel
-walking post at a little distance from the stack.
-
-At last there came a sharp pinch, and the whispered caution, “_Go
-softly_.” I crept to the other side of the stack, then stealthily
-proceeded to the one ahead of me, and so on until I reached the tree.
-Peering in every direction and seeing no indications that I had been
-observed, I gave two sharp whistles. It was not long until I heard the
-tramp of a horse. I softly called, “Jack!” and the little horse came
-to my side, tossing his head and rubbing his nose against my arm, as
-though recognizing me.
-
-I mounted and gave the horse the reins. Before long rifle shots rang
-out, showing that my escape had been discovered. But we soon left them
-in the rear.
-
-At times galloping swiftly and at others walking softly, Jack went on
-in the rain and darkness. In my impatience it seemed as though daylight
-and safety would never come. Then close ahead came the sharp command
-“Halt!” and at the same time my bridle was seized, and I was pulled
-from my horse.
-
-I thought I was in the hands of the enemy, and was about to cry “Blood
-and Iron,” and struck the horse to urge him forward. He gave a startled
-jump but did not move onward. Then I heard a voice say, “Look out for
-the Boche and his horse,” and knew that it was an American outpost.
-
-I said not a word as they conducted me to a shattered building a few
-hundred yards away, then into a room where a candle was lit, and a tall
-form indistinctly seen by the dim light, shot out the question, “What
-are you doing here?”
-
-“Trying to escape,” I replied, half amused at the situation.
-
-“What is your name, rank, and regiment?”
-
-“Lieutenant David Stark,” I replied, and was about to add my regiment,
-when I was interrupted--
-
-“Great scott! Is it Dave?” And my old colonel, forgetting military
-etiquette, was slapping me on the back and almost dancing, as he cried
-out “My! David, I am glad to see you!”
-
-He had no need to tell me that.
-
-“I little thought yesterday,” I said, “that I should be here this
-morning, or possibly ever again. I can hardly believe it even now.”
-
-As I told of my escape, and about the horse, the colonel said, “I
-see--the horse has been here before, and knew the safe way.”
-
-Calling to his orderly he commanded, “Bring the saddle here at once,
-and feed the horse well.” Then, looking at his watch--“It is thirty
-minutes past four. What time did you get away?”
-
-I couldn’t tell. It had seemed an eternity since I had started, so long
-was the way to freedom.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVI A HOSPITAL CASE
-
-
-When the saddle was brought in, I told the colonel what Jot had written
-about ripping it open. With a smile which I could not interpret, he cut
-the stitches with his pocket knife and, inserting his fingers, drew
-out two packages, passed one to me and retained the other. Giving the
-saddle to his man he directed him to restore the stitching, and bring
-the saddle back to him.
-
-“There are some blankets,” he said to me. “Make yourself comfortable
-and get your sleep. If there is anything else you want call on me.”
-
-“Since you are so kind to mention it, Colonel,” I said, “have you got
-anything to eat around here? I feel pretty empty, and have ever since I
-struck the Huns.”
-
-The colonel smiled and directed his man to feed me. And that darkey got
-me up a lunch to which I did full justice.
-
-“Golly!” said that personage, with astonished awe at seeing his
-provender disappear about as fast as he could bring it on: “You’s de
-most powerful eater I’s eber seed; you’s done gone an’ beat de Kernal
-fo’ sure!”
-
-When I had finished my repast, I said, “I want to see the little horse
-before I sleep, and to thank him for bringing me through safely.”
-
-So I went out with Sam but found the colonel there before me. He
-explained that Jack must be sent back that night, so after I had petted
-and talked to Jack I clapped my hands and sent him swiftly away over
-the fields.
-
-“You must not mention this,” said the colonel; “but it is not the first
-time, and the horse always finds his way back to the place from which
-he last went.”
-
-I understood.
-
-“Now, Captain,” he said, “get your sleep. I have much still to do
-tonight.”
-
-I was getting ready for bed, when in rushed Muddy, frantically barking
-and yelping to give me welcome.
-
-“De colonel thought you’d like to see him powerful well,” said Sam, “so
-I lets him out.” And Muddy snuggled down beside me to share my bed, as
-he had often done before.
-
-It was late in the morning when Sam called me to breakfast where I
-found the colonel waiting for me.
-
-“We shall have time for breakfast, this morning,” he said, “as we are
-likely to have a little peace now; for yesterday we sent the enemy to
-the right about face with a kick! But all the same we’ve got orders to
-hold ourselves in readiness to move at a moment’s notice, Captain.”
-
-“Lieutenant sir,” I corrected. “You forget.”
-
-“No,” said my colonel, “you’ve been promoted. We all agree that you
-deserved it, for the fight you put up when you were captured. Captain
-Cross has been promoted to be major.”
-
-“I am ready to begin fighting right now,” I said, blushing with pride
-in spite of myself; “but I don’t know how I shall fill a _captain’s_
-place, though I suppose that I can walk around in it.”
-
-“Oh, that will come,” said my colonel, “and you can study up a little
-while you are on permission. I have been promoted too: Brevet Brigadier
-if that is promotion.”
-
-“Fine!” I said. “I guess I will stay with the company and learn my
-duties; but I’d like to get this hole in my arm fixed up a little.”
-
-“Wounded! I hadn’t noticed it; why didn’t you mention it before? Here,
-orderly, show the captain the way to the surgeon’s station.” Then
-looking at my arm from which I had removed the bandage, preparatory to
-putting on a clean one, he said, “Whew! It’s gangrened; you can’t go on
-duty in that shape!”
-
-I went to the station slowly and sorrowfully, for I had looked for
-plentiful _chow_, and my experience told me that a surgeon was likely
-to put me on short rations. I had had, heaven knows, enough of that
-while in Bocheland to last me the rest of my life, and I was not
-anxious for its continuance under a sawbone. I should not have cared so
-much, had I thought it needful; but I _knew_ that plenty of food was
-good for me--all theories of doctors notwithstanding.
-
-I found several letters from home folks, and also one from Emily Grant
-that delighted me. Its contents were enough to make a less susceptible
-heart than mine beat fast. Sentiments and feelings that had almost
-been starved out of me were revived and, when General Burbank suggested
-that I go to the hospital where Doctor Rich was in charge, I fear I
-consented rather too willingly; though I did want to get at those
-Boches again. But as the colonel had said that the division was to go
-to another sector for rest, I was the more willing.
-
-When I first reported to the hospital the doctor didn’t seem to know
-me. He examined my wound, sniffed at it, grumbled out something about
-inflammation and ulceration, and a little of his camouflage Latin, then
-directed his assistant to apply caustic with such calm indifference
-to my wishes, that I had an inclination to bang his eye. And then he
-fussed some more while giving directions to his assistant, until I was
-out of patience with him.
-
-“What dunce,” he said, “has been fooling with this wound?”
-
-“No dunce at all, sir,” I replied, “but as good a surgeon as you are.
-Only he didn’t have the stuff to care for it as you have. Like myself,
-the Boches had him.”
-
-The doctor, who knew me as well as I knew him, had been so absorbed
-with examining the wound that he had taken little notice of the soldier
-attached to it. Now he recognized me and greeted me heartily.
-
-“You’ve grown thin, Stark--and your clothes!”
-
-“I have been starved,” I said, “and I am ragged and dirty too. I need
-good food and a lot of it, so that I can get my strength back. As
-for dirt, I haven’t been traveling in Pullman cars or sleeping in
-first-class hotels, Doctor. I am satisfied to be here, dirt, rags and
-all. But don’t give that food the absent treatment.”
-
-“You will have to go on low diet for a while, I’m afraid,” said the
-doctor, “until the wound heals.”
-
-I growled some more, but it did no good. If Surgeon Williams failed to
-understand my views about diet, he at least did not slight the wound.
-He had made a “history of the case” and applied a new dressing, all
-within two hours; for was I not Captain Stark, and not merely “a case”?
-
-When I escaped that doctor, got some clean clothes, a shave, a hair
-cut, and a good dinner, I felt fit for anything, and wanted to see my
-comrades.
-
-They had heard of my return from Fritzland, and came clustering around
-me with many expressions of good will; and _my_, wasn’t I glad to see
-the boys that had stood by me so stoutly in the fight? The painful part
-of it was that there were so many absent ones who would never report
-for duty again. The boys were as glad to see me as I was them--for had
-we not fought side by side through thick and thin? And this gives a
-feeling of comradeship that can never be gained in any other way, one
-that can never be broken, and which soldiers who have stood by each
-other in danger alone can fully appreciate.
-
-“Shure,” said Pat Quinn--now a sergeant--saluting, “we give them Boches
-wan Hail Columbia drubbing, Captain!”
-
-“Yes,” I replied; “but I got ‘The Watch on the Rhine,’ and didn’t like
-it.”
-
-“Well,” said Sutherland, who had just returned to duty from a severe
-wound, “we can’t have all of it our own way, but we must try and get
-the best of the exchange of drubbings. If the Boches would only fight
-a fair fight we might forgive them, but some of our men were killed in
-that last fight by explosive bullets--the savages!” And it was true.
-
-In the heartiness of our greeting we forgot rank, and only remembered
-that we were comrades who had stood by each other in the pinch of
-battle. Muddy was a great favorite.
-
-“That little devil of a dog,” said Quinn, “knows too much for wan dog.
-Shure by carrying your lether, he did as much as any tin av us in that
-fight.”
-
-I reported once more to Colonel Burbank who turned me over to Major
-Cross, who said with a provoking wink, “You will have to go to a
-hospital--perhaps you would prefer the one Doctor Rich has charge
-of? When your wound is healed, you will get a permission for two
-weeks more. Perhaps you will prefer to stay near there during your
-permission!” Then with a chuckle of amusement he added, “I see that
-Monte Carlo has been offered as a leave area, but has not been
-accepted. Just imagine the ‘Y’ or the Salvation Army setting up
-headquarters in front of the Casino.”
-
-“I don’t want much of a permission,” I said, “for I have a debt to pay
-the Huns before I die; and I am afraid that in spite of your going into
-a rest sector soon, you will get them licked before I can get around to
-fight them.”
-
-“Don’t worry about that,” answered he. “There will be fighting enough,
-so that half of us may possibly be dead before we have finished this
-job; especially if the last sample of fighting you gave us is repeated.”
-
-“I know that I lost more men than I should,” I replied. “Still I don’t
-believe the Huns thought that their fun paid for their powder.”
-
-“No, nor I either,” said the major, putting out his hand and grasping
-my shoulder with the other. “You made a good skillful fight of it.”
-
-“I have some doubts about the skill,” I said; “but my men! weren’t they
-daisies for a scrap?”
-
-And we agreed about that.
-
-The next day I took my departure for the hospital with conflicting
-emotions. I wanted to go, and yet I wanted to stay, for fear that I
-might miss a chance to hit back at the Huns. But obedience to orders
-and--other considerations--tipped the scales.
-
-I can not describe my reception at the hospital without appearing
-egotistical. While my wound was given proper attention, it was pleasant
-to feel that, for once, in a hospital, I was something more than a
-“_case_.”
-
-Emily’s face beamed with pleasure as with smiles and blushes she
-greeted me. She was not so wordy in her expressions of welcome as was
-Miss Rich; but somehow I liked Emily’s way best.
-
-Dr. Rich had common sense; he did not prescribe any special diet, but
-when I hinted that a liberal one suited me best, said: “Eat what best
-agrees with you. A patient ought to know what agrees with him better
-than a doctor.”
-
-That suited me exactly. He gave me perfect liberty to go and come just
-as I pleased--only I must report once a day to have my wound dressed,
-and of course three times a day for my meals, and also sleep there.
-
-I stuck to that hospital, and one of its nurses, more faithfully
-than perhaps my case demanded; and I was interested in cases and in
-everything else of which Emily had charge.
-
-There was one young whipper-snapper of an assistant surgeon, who
-evidently thought that she devoted too much time to my case, for he was
-around when he wasn’t wanted and constantly annoyed me by detailing
-her to some other case she had in hand. I wouldn’t have needed much
-encouragement to have kicked the puppy, he made himself so disagreeable
-to me.
-
-There were several men of my company who had been seriously wounded
-when I was, to whom I gave personal, sympathetic attention. I requested
-Emily to give them special care--and I brought them cigars and other
-luxuries, with the consent of Doctor Rich; for such little attentions
-go a great way in comforting boys who are wounded and away from home.
-
-I found my friend, Chaplain John, so far recovered from his wound, that
-he was about to return to the regiment again. We had many comforting
-talks, and he congratulated me on my promotion, and spoke of the brave
-fight my men had made at the time I was captured.
-
-“I was afraid,” I said, “that they would find fault with me for losing
-so many men.”
-
-“No,” he said, “it was thought that you did the best thing possible
-in fighting, rather than retreating; and the colonel praised your
-judgment and firmness.”
-
-There’s one thing I liked in Chaplain John, which was that he never
-made a fellow feel cheap by plastering it on too thick.
-
-“I’m afraid that the colonel is rather partial to me,” I said
-bluntly. Emily, who was listening to our talk, cast down her eyes and
-blushed--she has most beautiful eyelashes--as the chaplain said, in one
-of his miserable attempts to be funny, “So are others!”
-
-All things must have an end. My wound healed, and my permission, in
-addition, was about to expire; and but for that young peacock of an
-assistant surgeon, I should have been glad--almost--to get back to my
-company and duty again.
-
-Before going I had a private conversation with Miss Rich, and told
-her something about Lieutenant Nickerson that brought the happy
-tears to her eyes. “How could you have doubted him?” she said half
-reproachfully. “I never did!”
-
-The day that I was to leave the hospital for the front, I requested a
-private interview with Emily--to bid her good-bye. As she stood there
-with her hand in mine, perhaps a trifle longer than necessary, that
-puppy of a young doctor knocked at the door--and would have pushed his
-way in had I not placed my back against it--and called out that she was
-needed on a case at once.
-
-I was so annoyed at this intrusion that I told Emily--well never mind
-what--but we had an understanding that was so nice, that I almost
-forgave the puppy for “butting in”--and something better than words
-cemented the understanding.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVII THE MIX-UP OF BATTLE
-
-
-I have not had the opportunity as yet, to tell of the message brought
-back with me, in Jack’s saddle.
-
-The latter was in Jonathan’s minute and familiar handwriting. It began
-abruptly, without being addressed to me.
-
- “Whatever else you may believe of me, my dearest friend, I am true
- to you. I do not deny that what I have done may have justly brought
- upon me the stigma of disloyalty. We can not divide our love; one
- must either hate or love one’s country, and serve one flag, only. I
- have been tried in the furnace of war as few others have ever been.
- If I have erred in serving the country of my love, and to which I am
- devoted and owe allegiance with every fibre of my being, then I have
- erred honestly.
-
- “You must not believe me other than I am, though I may not always
- be what I seem to be. My allegiance is given, right or wrong, heart
- and soul to the country I love. And I must go on in this chosen path
- though it lead to misunderstanding of my motives by those I love, and
- though I may know that it leads to darkness and to death--for it is
- the path of duty.
-
- “I have a difficult and heart-and-nerve trying part to play, on a
- larger stage of the world, than perhaps any one of my age and small
- abilities ever before attempted.
-
- “When I learned that you were a prisoner, I made a plan for your
- liberation. I am risking my life to set you free; for I love you
- more than I do my life. If I should meet you in battle--which God
- forbid--you should kill me, rather than I would harm you.
-
- “I have confided in one who loves and trusts me, and who likewise
- loves his country. He will help you to escape.
-
- “JONATHAN N. VON RUCKER.”
-
-What did this strange letter mean? I sat, after reading it, like one
-confounded. It made me heartsick to believe that it was a declaration
-of disloyalty to my country. It crushed, for the time being, my belief
-in Jonathan’s loyalty to our flag, that he had professed and promised
-to love and protect when he enlisted to fight its battles. But by the
-same process of thought must I not mistrust General Burbank? Whom could
-I trust, when the men of all others I had loved and believed in, seemed
-disloyal? Though reason said that they were false to their country, my
-heart said “no”; for I felt, against reason, that it could not be so.
-
-I read and reread Jonathan’s letter, and finally decided to take a
-plain course--a straight cut. I took the letter to General Burbank
-and asked him to read it, and to make some explanation. Was it not a
-declaration of disloyalty?
-
-A flush passed over his face as he read the letter. Then with a
-thoughtful look he read it again and passed it back to me saying, “He
-had his reasons for writing this letter, but what they are I do not
-know. But don’t you see, he does not say it is Germany that he is
-serving? I _know_ that he is loyal to our flag.”
-
-“Thank you, General, for the assurance,” I exclaimed. And stretching
-out my hand to his, grasped it, for I had no longer the least doubt of
-him or of his word. Whatever the mystery, I must and did believe in
-him, though I confess, Jot’s letter had puzzled me.
-
-Upon my return from my permission, I had found my regiment occupying
-a rest sector, where they had been for nearly two weeks. Here, let me
-explain, that under prevailing conditions in the great war, a battle
-lasts sometimes for several weeks, and no troops can remain for that
-time in line of battle. They must be sent for rest at intervals, to
-more quiet sectors, to recuperate and reorganize.
-
-Our division was now, after more than two weeks’ rest, again ready for
-active service; though Sam Jenkins and others attempted to explain that
-hunting cooties was active duty enough for any one.
-
-The marching and fighting that followed is hard to describe; for we
-were now a part of a great whole, whose operations no one man could see
-or understand fully. When a battle stretches out on a front of fifty or
-sixty miles or more, a single participant, even though he be a captain
-or a general, can not know much more about it than what he sees.
-
-We had been moved from place to place for several days; sometimes by
-marching and sometimes by auto trucks.
-
-We were now on the march. I was in my place, having left my horse as
-too good a target when near the enemy’s snipers moving along a pathway
-that skirted a forest. The rising sun reflected from the helmets of
-the men who came tramping wearily but cheerfully--for they had been
-marching for over twenty hours with little sleep--with prospects now of
-both rest and sleep.
-
-When the order, “In place, rest,” came, and the brave fellows had sat
-down to eat, though they were hungry, some of them got to napping, in
-spite of it.
-
-It was before daylight, when orders came to leave even their light
-packs behind--which shows what a hurry they were in--for a forced march.
-
-Over strange roads, in a strange country, to a destination we knew
-not of--possibly “to that bourne from which no traveler returns,” we
-marched on all that day. We met regiments of _poilus_ who hugged us and
-held our hands, joyfully telling us that there was to be a big advance
-on the Boches lines, and that we were to be “in it” with them.
-
-We got a little more sleep and chow, then were loaded into trucks, and
-buzzed off--heaven knew where--we didn’t!
-
-We met still other Frenchies, who told us there was to be a big drive
-on a thirty-five mile front. We laughed incredulously; but began to
-believe, when we caught sight of a lot of tanks rumbling and waddling
-along in a stubborn manner, as though they meant business. Our men
-roared out, “Hooray! there’s going to be another dance and we are
-invited!”
-
-The roads were filled with all kinds of soldiers--doughboys and more
-doughboys, _poilus_ in all sorts of uniforms, and then some more;
-horses prancing and snorting, mules heehawing and kicking, officers
-shouting sulphurous orders, guns and caissons, trucks and baggage
-wagons, all floundering along in the rain and mud, like dark rivers of
-humanity. On they came over crooked country roads that twisted around
-hills and plunged down into valleys, cut up and stirred up in muddy
-batter by heavy teams that had preceded us: a medley and jam of horses,
-mules, teams, guns and men! All this, though in seeming confusion, had a
-real thread of order and purpose controlling the whole. This confused
-picture will possibly convey some idea of an army on the march hurrying
-to get into action.
-
-Some of the units were divorced from their wheeled kitchens, and were
-savagely hungry,--we were--but wanted to get into the mix-up just the
-same with both feet. We had a little hardtack and bully beef but that
-made us mighty thirsty. We succeeded in getting a little water from the
-cart, and I told our men to keep some for future use. Some of my men
-had lost their gas masks. That wouldn’t do, and the top had to steal
-some from the Frenchies--which was unprincipled--but it had to be done.
-
-At last we were in it! As a starter we came upon some Huns hiding in
-dug-outs with a bunch of machine-guns--and then it was literally--what
-Sherman called war. But our men were there doing their best, and their
-best was pretty good!
-
-I saw our Major standing in a ditch handing out ammunition with his own
-hands, amid a confusing uproar of exploding shells, whispering bullets
-and sputtering bombs. We thought we knew what gun fire was, but we
-didn’t know the real thing until then.
-
-Everybody was doing the best he could. There stood Top Sergeant
-Sutherland shouting with a voice that seemed to come far down from his
-boots, “Right dress! you lousy sons of guns! Better than that! or I
-will drill thunder out of you when we get back to camp, if you can’t
-form a better line!”
-
-We found a bunch of Dutchies playing they were dead. “Get up!” I
-yelled. And tapped some of them with the stick I carried--“get up and
-march!”--and though they may not have understood what I said, they knew
-what I meant, and obeyed as docile as puppies.
-
-That evening we captured a little village which was as full of Huns, as
-an anthill is with ants. We swept them in and headed them for the rear.
-One of these was a husky officer that Sam Jenkins said he had hauled
-from a dug-out as deep as a well.
-
-“And that chap,” added Sam, telling me about it later, “had some nerve.
-He stopped short, took out his cigar case, and lit a cigar from a pipe
-one of the doughboys was smoking, and then went on ahead as cool as
-though he had come from an ice chest instead of a dug-out.”
-
-We steered a lot of them to the rear like that. There was a lot to
-think of, and a lot to do, and I was doing the best I could for the
-company, with help of the lieutenants and noncoms.
-
-At the first aid station, one of the doctors caught sight of me and
-called out: “This way, Captain!” and almost dragged me into his coop.
-
-“Not much,” I said. “I am all right!”
-
-“No, you ain’t,” he insisted, “your face is all covered with blood.” It
-was a slight scalp wound, and though I had bled like a stuck pig, I did
-not know about it until then, and needed only a little sticking plaster
-to fix it all right. I was as glad to escape from that doctor as though
-he had been a Boche.
-
-Turning away, I saw one of our men up a roadside tree that was strung
-with telegraph wires, apparently. A man had just been knocked out, he
-was explaining to me, and as he had been in the business at home, he
-thought he would finish the job. Just then, _whiz bang!_ came a shell
-that knocked off his tin hat without hurting him and sent it spinning
-away. After recovering from a transient daze, he coolly remarked:
-“Captain, I guess I’d better finish the business now that I have begun
-it.”
-
-Then he came down and saluted in a shame-faced way, and I hadn’t the
-heart to censure him, though he had no business to be up that tree
-without orders, and away from his real duties.
-
-When we got together that evening some of my men were missing, and
-naturally so, after such a mix up of a fight. We got some boss chow
-that the Salvation Army had brought up, and then bunched down on the
-ground for sleep--and we sure needed it.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVIII A MYSTERY SOLVED
-
-
-Just after the scenes described in the foregoing chapter, there was
-comparative quiet along our front--the calm that follows a storm.
-
-The British army under Haig had struck a staggering blow at
-Ludendorff’s northern lines, and had driven him back in defeat.
-This had seemingly withdrawn the German attention, or ability, to
-concentrate for the defeat of the American and French armies on their
-southwestern front.
-
-General Burbank explained to me that it evidently was the policy of
-General Foch, while remaining in watchful touch with the enemy, to
-strengthen by rest and reorganization the forces that had for so long a
-time been hotly engaged at our part of the line; and in this way keep
-them fresh and vigorous for service.
-
-I was favored through the kindness of the general in being allowed to
-take up my quarters in the same building with him. This gave me the
-benefit of his daily counsel and association, and was of inestimable
-value to me, both in increasing my military knowledge and improving my
-bearing. Both were needful for my further advancement as an officer as
-the general was so kind as to say that I was naturally endowed with the
-qualities of a good soldier. I valued this association and by daily
-contact with him grew more and more to love and admire my general.
-
-Neither of us had, since the assurance he had so graciously given me of
-Jonathan’s loyalty, spoken on the subject; though my brain was still
-puzzled. It had, however, been a habit with me to put aside that which
-I could not understand, until circumstances or a flash of intuition,
-made its meaning clear. With me, the more I pondered over perplexing
-problems, the further was I from their solution.
-
-General Burbank often discussed and explained to me the larger
-operations of war and, by suggestion, set me to thinking on them giving
-me thereby a clearer insight into its problems and greater love for the
-profession of a soldier.
-
-After reveille one morning, the general called me to him. The moment
-I saw his face, I felt that he had something to communicate of more
-than usual interest. He simply handed me a message of three words in
-Jonathan’s minute and delicate handwriting, “_Saddle not ripped_.” And
-then, pointing to the saddle on his chair, said, “I have been at work
-all night and must get some sleep,” he left me. I guessed that the work
-he referred to was connected with another message from Jot.
-
-I began without delay, cutting the stitches of the saddle until I found
-deftly concealed under the saddle’s lining, some papers in Jonathan’s
-handwriting addressed to me as follows:
-
- “Dear Davie:
-
- “When you receive this I may not be among the living; for suspicion
- and doubts of my loyalty to German interests at last have put the
- hounds of their secret service on my track. I have a foreboding as
- I begin this paper, that possibly I may never see you again in this
- life, and I can not let this chance pass without justifying my course
- to you. I would love to clasp your hand once more and die--if I
- must--under the Stars and Stripes.
-
- “I am concealing this in Jack’s saddle, in the hope that it will come
- to your hands, and that you will understand my former message written
- with a purpose to deceive the enemy, and give to them a belief that
- I am loyal to their cause, though I have plotted for your escape. I
- think that you will understand.
-
- “I know that your heart, dear David, has been torn with doubts of my
- loyalty, by evidences that have come to you.
-
- “Before we had landed in France, your colonel had shown me the
- necessity of self-sacrifice, by presenting to me the needs of the
- secret service in France, and of my opportunity to render great
- service by appearing to serve the German cause. My brother, whom he
- knew, was already in that service; for whatever might be his faults,
- he loved the dear old flag and its cause. The strong resemblance
- between us suggested to him greater opportunities, by our working
- together, in obtaining information much needed by the Allies, of the
- German war plans.
-
- “With this in view, and to give the enemy greater confidence in him,
- information of great seeming value was, by consent of the French,
- given him to convey to the Germans. Then he told the head of the
- German secret service, that he had a brother through whom he had
- gained the important information which he had given to them. The
- Germans, meanwhile, knew that he professed when in the Allied lines
- to be a spy for them. Adolph also suggested that I be encouraged
- to desert to the German lines. But the hard-headed chief of their
- secret service thought I could serve them better by remaining where
- I was. It was not until he had convinced them that I was in danger
- of arrest, and that the Americans might obtain information from me
- that would impair my brother’s usefulness as an agent of their secret
- service, that they consented to his plans.
-
- “It was a bitter thing for me to leave you to believe that I was a
- traitor, and I did not take the course I did until convinced that it
- was needful for General Foch to have more intimate knowledge of the
- situation of the German troops on the southern front.
-
- “I had promised my mother to be unswervingly loyal to the flag of my
- country. My father had been an officer of the Confederate service,
- and after the surrender had come North. Her constant admonition to me
- was to be true under all circumstances, to the flag of my country and
- be worthy of being called ‘Jed’s boy.’
-
- “The thought of using Muddy in furtherance of my designs had long
- been planned, but my scheme for using Jack was not conceived until
- after I found that I could buy him, and had tested his wonderful
- intelligence for that service.
-
- “The enemy was led to believe that others high in the confidence of
- the American commander were willing to assist in my treason and,
- among them, Colonel Burbank; and thus I was able to carry out my plan
- of deception. I never, however, trusted them with the knowledge that
- Jack was carrying messages without a rider. The colonel’s messages
- to me were seemingly disloyal, but by previous arrangement of a
- code, they bore a different meaning to me; and the real information
- received by the enemy, by his communications, were only those agreed
- upon by high military Allied officers.
-
- “Of late, since all German plans founded on the information I have
- given them have miscarried, they are suspicious that I have betrayed
- them. I have been constantly watched--sometimes by men who are in
- our secret service--but I have been able to elude them by several
- devices--one of them by exchange of identity with my brother. They
- have not, with all their acuteness, suspected the horse or dog.
-
- “When you were captured, your answer to the first official who
- questioned you about me did much to give them greater confidence in
- me. When I was called to assist in questioning you, it was a part of
- their plan to make me commit myself; our faces were closely watched.
- Your angry manner at seeing me convinced them that you, whom they
- knew to be my former friend, believed me to be a traitor to your
- country. My act in dropping the book in your pocket as I passed you,
- with all their keenness, was not observed.
-
- “Now, however, doubt and more than suspicion, yea, almost certainty,
- that I have played them false is closing around me; their hounds of
- the secret service are on my track. If I feared them or death, I
- could not keep my nerve.
-
- “I have learned that my brother is under arrest and in prison, and
- possibly by this time has met his fate; for these men do not hesitate
- to kill even on suspicion. Now that all their cherished plans for
- universal dominion have been foiled, they are suspicious of every
- one--even of each other--and this alone may lead to their final ruin.
-
- “I feared, when I connived at your escape, that they might capture
- you; I therefore, as a precaution, put the misleading letter to
- you in the saddle, with that to Colonel Burbank. For though it was
- seeming plain treason to the American flag, yet to him I knew it
- would have another meaning. The letter would explain my conduct, and
- throw them off their guard from looking further.
-
- “I knew how much you must have suffered from doubts of my loyalty.
- It cuts me like a knife when I think of it. I had written ‘_rip the
- saddle_’ thinking you must understand; I then dared to write no more.
-
- “The information I have just sent to Colonel Burbank of the German
- plans are of but little value, because I am watched so closely, and
- my brother can not relieve me, to give me time. I think you will
- understand.
-
- “With hopes that this may safely reach you, and that you will make
- clear to one I may never see again on earth, my loyalty to the flag,
- I am your faithful friend,
-
- “JONATHAN NICKERSON.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIX THE SUPREME SACRIFICE
-
-
-The men of our regiment were falling in line, and my company had
-already formed, as I took my place on its right awaiting orders to
-advance. The bugle rang out and the advance began.
-
-At the foot of a little hill which was scarred by battle-marks we
-halted, while our air craft circled about it for observation. The tanks
-were awkwardly trundling into place. A first aid station was set up,
-and surgeons and devoted Red Cross helpers were coming to do their
-part. It presaged a battle.
-
-Then I heard the sharp crack of rifles, and calls and cries of men in
-the distance.
-
-“The Boches are coming!” I heard some one say.
-
-“It’s new,” said another, “for them to advertise a raid in that way.”
-
-“And don’t you believe it,” said another; “they haven’t gone crazy yet.
-But something is up.”
-
-The shouts and rifle shots grew nearer, and we were on the tips of our
-toes for action, when there came into view a lone horse speeding like
-the wind, while the outcry behind him showed that he was escaping in
-desperate flight from the enemy.
-
-What did it mean? The horse seemed riderless. But a nearer view showed
-that a man or boy was on the side furthest from the enemy, with his
-arms around its neck, and his heels holding to the cantle of the saddle
-like an Indian.
-
-“It must be some one of consequence, to make all that row about,” said
-our top sergeant.
-
-“Gee!” said Goodwin, “they are determined to kill or catch him!”
-
-On came the horse like mad, head outstretched, with foam flecked
-flanks, and at last out of range of the enemy’s guns. But still the
-rider did not right himself in the saddle. An involuntary cheer went
-up from our ranks for the rider and horse, as they passed the line of
-danger.
-
-“He is wounded and bleeding,” I cried, viewing him through my glass.
-And then, a moment later, my heart gave a great jump of pain. I
-recognized in the rider, Jonathan, and rushed forward to his help.
-
-The horse whinneyed in recognition at my approach and stopped. In
-another moment I had taken Jonathan from the horse into my arms. His
-eyes met mine with a faint smile of recognition, and he tried to
-speak--but could not. I hurried regardless of everything else to the
-first aid station, sending a messenger ahead, on the run, that they
-might have everything ready.
-
-“Hurry!” I cried. “Have them ready when we get there!”
-
-The surgeon cut away his shirt, revealing a wound in his left breast
-and made a rapid examination. “They have done their work,” he said;
-“there is but little that we can do!”
-
-“Don’t say that!” I cried. “Do all you can to save him!”
-
-Then, seeing the auto that was at my service near by, I said to my
-messenger, “Go to the base hospital and bring Doctor and Miss Rich.
-Hurry! Tell them that Lieutenant Nickerson is here desperately wounded.”
-
-The first aid surgeon administered stimulants and more critically
-examined his breast wound. Then, seeing that his patient was in pain,
-said: “I can ease his pain, at least.”
-
-“No,” I said with sudden inspiration, “don’t give him morphia; I forbid
-it!”
-
-“Surgeons command here, sir,” said the doctor sternly, “not captains.”
-But he put aside his instrument saying thoughtfully, “Perhaps it
-will be better not to. I don’t see how he can be saved, anyway, from
-anything but pain.”
-
-“That he is in pain,” I said, “shows that he is alive. And as long as
-there’s life, there’s hope.”
-
-The surgeon shook his head.
-
-It was not long until Rose and Doctor Rich had come. The doctor
-examined Jonathan’s eyes and listened to his heart beats, inquired what
-had been done, and then said, “It is fortunate that no opiates have
-been given him, for it would have lessened his chances.”
-
-The battle alarm proved to be false. So I asked and was granted a leave
-of absence to convey Jot to the hospital. He was still conscious, and
-asked for General Burbank--whom I found there on my arrival.
-
-When the general had come, at Jot’s request, the room was cleared, and
-the door closed while he delivered a message to the general.
-
-“He would have it so,” said Doctor Rich, “though he fully understood
-that the exertion of speech might, and probably would, be fatal. He
-insisted, for he said, ‘My country’s cause demands it and what is my
-life when weighed with that?’”
-
-So Jot had given his message, and then relapsed into unconsciousness.
-
-“But still,” said the doctor, “there is yet a chance,--a mere
-chance,--for the interview seemed to have done him as much good as
-harm.”
-
-I understood. It had eased his mind to deliver that message.
-
-No effort was made to rouse him at that time, and at the surgeon’s
-request we withdrew from the room. Then the general came to me,
-greeting me with a silent handshake.
-
-I could not rest, but walked back and forth in the small room. Then
-came word from Miss Rich, “Jonathan is conscious, and wants to see you.”
-
-I went at once to the room where lay my stricken friend.
-
-A brave look swept over his face, as he held out his hands with
-imploring invitation, but without words, for me to come to him.
-
-I could not speak, but knelt by his side. His voice came to me in
-almost a whisper, so faint was his utterance.
-
-“Good old Davie--the first friend I ever had. It is good to be here
-with those I love. It is so good to die under the dear old flag and
-for my country. Don’t grieve, Davie. It is good that you believe--and
-know. God bless you, Davie.” His voice grew weaker. “Take care of Jack,
-and Muddy. Call Rose--dear Rose!” Then, after a pause, with a smile
-illumining his thin worn face, he held out his hands to an unseen
-presence. “Mother, dear, I’m coming--Jed’s boy!” and then fell back
-with the smile still on his face.
-
-[Illustration: “GOOD OLD DAVIE--THE FIRST FRIEND I EVER HAD.”--Page
-233.]
-
-The surgeon stepped to his side, made a brief examination, and shook
-his head.
-
-General Burbank uncovering said, his voice vibrating with emotion:
-“There is the truest, most unselfish patriot that I ever knew or expect
-to know. He was a hero without a stain of selfishness. He was willing
-to sacrifice all that he held dear, to go down to death branded as a
-traitor by the friends he loved best, that he might serve his country.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-A simple wooden cross marks the grave of Jonathan, but the little mound
-that covers his mortal remains blooms with the flowers of France,
-brought to this American who died to save France, even as Frenchmen
-died to save America.
-
-And I who had gone into the war with the buoyant spirit of youth,
-turned from that grave with a man’s stern determination, that to the
-uttermost of my powers, his death and that of thousands of other
-American boys should not have been in vain; that I, side by side with
-all true men, would offer my life towards that world-wide freedom for
-which they had given the last full measure of devotion--the supreme
-sacrifice.
-
-THE END
-
- * * * * *
-
-Transcriber’s Notes:
-
-Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are
-mentioned.
-
-Punctuation has been made consistent.
-
-Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in
-the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have
-been corrected.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Jed's Boy, by Warren Lee Goss
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