Read Ebook: Fighting in France by Kay Ross Wrenn Charles L Charles Lewis Illustrator

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Ebook has 1700 lines and 42998 words, and 34 pages

"How high do you suppose they are now?" asked Earl.

"Five thousand feet," said Leon. "Is that about right, Jacques?"

"I should think so; just about," replied the young Frenchman.

Almost every soldier in the great camp was standing, gazing skyward at the combat going on among the clouds over their heads. These duels in the air were not infrequent but they never lost their power to thrill. To see two huge mechanical birds each maneuvering for a chance to strike a death blow to its rival was a sight to stir the blood of any man, no matter how often he had seen its duplicate before.

"What did I tell you?" demanded Jacques suddenly.

"Why didn't they chase that fellow?" exclaimed Leon. "They were two to one and it seems to me they had a great chance to bring him down."

"You must remember this," Jacques reminded him. "He had a good start on them and, if anything, had a faster machine than theirs. Then that scout of ours may have very important news for headquarters as a result of his observations. He probably wants to report as soon as he can."

"That's true," said Leon. "I had almost forgotten this attack to-morrow I got so excited watching the aeroplanes."

"You started to tell what Captain Le Blanc said," Earl reminded his brother. "Go ahead and finish what you heard."

"Well," said Leon, "he said that everything was ready. He even knew the number of German batteries that will be opposed to us; he also knew just what regiments hold the line opposite. He said that along the whole length of our front line steps had been cut in the trenches so that we can climb out easily. The barbed-wire entanglements have had little lanes cut through them every few feet so we can get through without any trouble."

"Whew," whistled Earl. "It looks as if we meant business all right."

"We surely do," agreed Leon. "We're to carry along bridging to form pathways across the German trenches so we can bring up our guns and supplies quickly. All shoes and extra clothes and blankets are to be turned into the quartermaster; every man is to put on clean underclothes so that if he is wounded he won't be infected. You're to have your gas-masks ready and every one will receive one hundred and thirty extra rounds, making two hundred and fifty in all."

"When do we move into the trenches?" asked Jacques.

"Ten o'clock to-night."

"And final inspection is when?"

"One hour before that."

"We'd better get ready," exclaimed Jacques. "It's almost supper-time now and we've got lots to do."

Every man who passed their tent seemed, to be unusually business-like. No one seemed nervous or worried, but perhaps a little more serious than usual. But there was not a man among all those thousands who was not glad that on the morrow he was to come up out of his hole in the ground and meet his enemy face to face. An air of quiet confidence pervaded the camp; the air was full of it and one glance at these grim-visaged warriors of France was enough to convince any observer that they were eager for the battle to come.

PREPARATIONS

At nine o'clock that evening all arrangements had been completed and the final inspection held. The last letters were deposited at the regimental post-office, a most solemn ceremony. Many a long thought passed through the minds of the soldiers as they mailed what might be their final messages to their loved ones.

"I don't like this business of hanging around," whispered Jacques in Leon's ear. "I'd like to get started."

"So should I," agreed Leon. "It seems sort of weird standing here in the darkness with thousands of men all about you, all waiting for the same order that we are."

The night was clear and the stars were unusually brilliant. Not a cloud appeared and the long lines of troops resting on their arms looked like misshapen hedgerows in the faint light. The roar of the French artillery came distinctly to the ears of these men who stood and waited. Every man knew why it was that its activity was so greatly increased that night. Their guns were playing a stream of metal death on every yard and foot and inch of the opposing trenches. Not a spot in the German lines but was being searched by these great mechanical monsters.

"Listen!" warned Earl suddenly.

Nearby some man had started to sing the Marseillaise. Soon others joined in and the chorus swelled as man after man lent his voice to that stirring anthem. In a few moments every soldier present was singing and even the roar of the great guns became faint and indistinct as the thousands of throats chanted the great hymn of victory.

A thrill ran up and down Leon's spine. He used to regard the Marseillaise as the national anthem and had often heard it sung without any particular feeling. Since the war had started, however, it had seemed different to him. As the soldiers sang it, biting out each word sharp and short, it had become a battle-cry. He realized how terribly in earnest these Frenchmen were who stood there in the darkness and hurled defiance at their German foes.

At length the order came to move. Slowly the column moved out of the camp and turning to the right marched down the road leading to the trenches. On both the right and left could be seen other columns moving in parallel lines and in the same direction.

"Who are they?" whispered Earl.

"I can't tell," replied Jacques in answer to his comrade's query. "Both regiments are attached to our division though, I think."

Slowly and at the same pace the three columns advanced. The men were unusually quiet and none of the customary bantering was present. Perhaps every man was busied with the thought of what was going to happen to him at quarter past nine the next day.

"This seems like a funeral march," exclaimed Leon in a low voice.

"And I don't like it, either," added Earl.

"Wait," cautioned Jacques. "Everyone's spirits will revive in a few minutes. The strain will wear off soon."

His prediction proved to be correct. A short time later the pace was quickened and the murmur of low-voiced conversations could be heard. The men even began to tease one another and tell jokes. It seemed almost incredible that men preparing to face what they were to meet-on the morrow could be so light-hearted.

"Here we come to the trenches," exclaimed Jacques. "What time is it?"

"Just eleven o'clock," said Earl, consulting his watch.

"An hour so far," murmured Jacques.

One by one the soldiers filed into the trench. All talking ceased and mile after mile they moved forward. In single-file the men marched through the communicating trench. Every little while a lateral trench appeared and as they came closer to the front these trenches increased in number. The roar of the giant guns steadily became louder and louder.

Soon the lateral trenches became very numerous. Every one was filled with soldiers, their arms resting on the ground. They eyed the regiment filing past them enviously and were apparently curious to know why it had been selected to lead the charge in preference to themselves.

"Who are you?" demanded one man.

"Ah," said the man. "I see."

"Look!" exclaimed Leon suddenly. "What place is this?"

"There's not much left of it whatever it is," replied Jacques grimly.

The regiment had suddenly emerged from the trench into the street of a village. At least it had once been a village, but only its ghost now remained. Every house had been bombarded and battered until now there was standing only bare walls, when indeed they had been spared.

"There's the moon," whispered Earl suddenly. "I saw it over my right shoulder. That means good luck."

"We'll need it," said Leon grimly.

Down the ruined village street the march continued and then another trench swallowed them up. Straight ahead they went and then turned sharply to the right. A short distance and they swung to the left. Finally the advance ceased and the men came to rest.

"We're in the first line trench," whispered Jacques.

"You don't have to tell me that," exclaimed Leon.

"Look here," cried Earl who was peering cautiously through one of the holes made for the rifles.

Following his instructions Jacques and Leon could see the French shells exploding in the opposing trenches. Big and little they were, and had somewhat the appearance of a great display of fireworks. The noise was beyond description. So fast did the shells burst that they seemed all to be part of one continuous explosion. The German return fire only added to the din.

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