Army Boys in France Part 28

"We're up against the real thing," added Billy. "We had a little taste of trench life down in Mexico, but most of the life was in the open.

This is a different proposition."

Just then a sh.e.l.l came screaming overhead and the boys involuntarily ducked.

"That seems to prove it," said Tom.

"Bad shooting though," remarked Frank, coolly. "Fritz ought to have the range better by this time."

"There isn't very much of that sort of thing going on just now,"

remarked Corporal Wilson, who came along just then. "This is what they call a 'quiet sector.' The boys are just put here to be broken in and get used to the sight and sound of the sh.e.l.ls. This is a deaf and dumb asylum compared to what you'll get later on."

"Job's comforter," murmured Bart. "To hear the corporal talk you'd think this was a rest cure."

In the hours of liberty allowed them the army boys explored the trenches for a long distance in either direction, and what they saw tended to upset a good many of the notions they had formed.

In a vague way they had figured the trench to be not much else than a gigantic ditch. They found it to be an underground city.

There was a bewildering labyrinth of pa.s.sages branching off in every direction. There were s.p.a.cious rooms, fitted up in homely comfort, some with pictures on the walls and rugs upon the floors.

There were shower baths and laundries, rude in construction but efficient in operation. The sleeping quarters of the men consisted chiefly of bunks, rising in tiers, though in some cases, cots were used.

There was an apparently endless series of communicating trenches with the listening posts in advance of the main line. There were telephone wires and electric lights.

"The moles have got nothing on us," remarked Tom, as he noted the vast extent of these subterranean pa.s.sages.

"It's like the catacombs of Rome," put in Billy. "The only difference is that those contain dead men while we're very much alive."

"Knock wood," counseled Bart. "We wouldn't be very long if the Boches had their way."

Along the side of the main trench, facing the enemy was a narrow platform on which the men stood who were on watch. A series of cunningly contrived loopholes enabled them to look over at the enemy trenches without themselves being seen.

Sand bags were piled on the top of the trench in numbers sufficient to stop the flight of a bullet or even the impact of a sh.e.l.l.

A series of steps led up to the top and the boys reflected as they looked at them that before long their feet would be planted there when the order should be given to go "_over the top_" and charge across the intervening s.p.a.ce to meet the enemy.

The silent men standing on watch, gripping their muskets, their eyes peering through the loopholes, seemed like so many statues.

Each had his gas mask ready to clap on at an instant's notice, for when that deadly poison should be wafted over the trench, one second of time might mean all the difference between life and death.

Before the day was over Frank and his comrades had replaced this line of sentinels. They peered curiously across to the German trench from which they were separated by not more than two hundred yards.

There was absolutely nothing to be seen except the line of sand bags that they knew marked the positions of the enemy. Nothing broke the monotonous expanse of sh.e.l.l-torn earth.

They had an uncanny feeling as though they were the only living creatures left in the world.

"It looks as though all the Germans had gone back to Berlin," remarked Frank in an undertone.

"Does it?" said the corporal grimly. "Give me your hat."

He took the hat that Frank extended and lifted it above the parapet on the point of a bayonet.

Zip! came a bullet, missing the helmet by a hair and thudding into one of the sand bags.

"Take it all back," said Frank as he resumed his hat. "They're on the job!"

A week pa.s.sed by with only two casualties on the American side, for the sector was indeed a quiet one. But certain signs of a projected movement on the part of the enemy had made the American officers uneasy, and one day Corporal Wilson called Frank apart.

"Sheldon," he said, "Captain Baker has ordered me to take a squad of men on the first dark or foggy night for patrol duty in No Man's Land.

I want you, Raymond, Bradford and Waldon to go with me."

"Good," said Frank, promptly. "We'll be ready."

He sought out his comrades and eagerly imparted the information. They received it with delight.

"Bully!" cried Bart.

"Best news I've heard since Hector was a pup!" chortled Billy.

"Here's hoping we'll slip one over on Fritz!" chuckled Tom, gleefully.

CHAPTER XXIV

IN NO MAN'S LAND

It was a misty, muddy night upon which the reconnoitering party, including Frank, Bart, Billy and Tom, was sent out under Corporal Wilson, with orders to get as close as possible to the enemy's line and learn all they could regarding their positions.

This included information in regard to the general direction of the enemy trenches, the extent and strength of his barbed wire entanglements and, if possible, the approximate force with which the trenches were manned.

Of course, this order involved taking pretty long chances, but the picked men sent out did not give much thought to that side of the question. By now it was all, not only a part of the day's work to them, but the excitement of such an expedition was, in truth, something of a relief from the growing monotony of trench life.

They left their own trenches with the least possible sound and crept cautiously forward toward the enemy defences. The night was heavy and starless, an excellent one for their project.

The soft earth deadened their footsteps and they slipped forward like a company of ghosts, hardly a sound breaking the stillness save the distant roar of the heavy guns that caused the ground to quiver and tremble under their feet.

The mist enveloping them began to grow denser minute by minute and before they had gone more than a hundred yards it was with the greatest difficulty that they kept from becoming separated.

It was an uncanny experience for the young, almost untried soldiers, and the Camport boys were excited, and each eager to prove himself worthy of having been chosen for the work.

Suddenly Frank thought he heard a subdued sound on his right and instinctively stopped a moment to locate it more definitely.

In that second his comrades, who apparently had heard nothing, were swallowed up in the thickening fog. Frank's impulse was to hasten after them but he had hardly taken a step forward when he was again halted by a repet.i.tion of the noise he had heard before.

He dared not call out to his comrades as he knew that such a cry would betray them all in case they were near the enemy trenches. His next thought was to return to his own lines, but the sound he had heard, surprisingly like the low-pitched gutturals of a German voice, made him unwilling to go back without investigating the matter further.

Besides, here was the beginning of an adventure after his own heart, and he thought with a quickening pulse of the satisfaction that would be his if he could, unaided, gather valuable information and take it back to his commanding officer.