Army Boys in France; or, From Training Camp to Trenches

by Albert Bigelow Paine

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE BAPTISM OF FIRE

  All faces were turned toward the sky. It was the army boys' firstglimpse of a battle in the air and the grim game held them spellbound.

  Like great birds the battle planes wheeled and swooped, now diving, nowclimbing, each jockeying so as to get the weather gauge of its opponentand bring its machine guns into action.

  The forces were nearly equal and for some time victory hovered in thebalance. But either the staying quality or the alertness of the Alliesfinally turned the scale. Two of the enemy planes were shot down, anda third, evidently crippled, but not wholly out of control, sought theground within its own lines.

  The German force, now depleted, turned east and made off at full speed,with the Allies in hot pursuit.

  Then the sky clouded over and the finish of the fight was lost to theeager watchers below. But they had seen enough to know that theraiders had been beaten back and that victory rested with the Alliesand they were jubilant at the result.

  "The Huns went back quicker than they came," gloated Tom.

  "Right-o!" cried Bart, gleefully. "They came to shear and they wentback shorn."

  "The Kaiser, he has lost his sheep And doesn't know where to find them, Leave them alone and they'll come home With our planes close behind them."

  So parodied Billy.

  "I hope Dick comes out of it all right," said Frank, a little soberly.

  "Trust that boy," said Tom, confidently. "I don't imagine anyone needsto worry about him. If he can't take care of himself, nobody can."

  But the Germans, though beaten in that skirmish, were far from beingdiscouraged, and the boys were to learn that very night with what apersistent foe they had to deal.

  It had been a hard and exciting day and now, after a steaming hotsupper, they were scattered about the old mill in comfort and utterrelaxation.

  Some were smoking, others chatting, some mending their clothes, whichin these days of strenuous work were often in need of repair, while oneor two by the light of candles were writing letters to the folks athome.

  Billy, seated on a stool, was strumming a banjo which had been hissolace many a time while he was stationed on the Mexican border andwhich now was doing duty in France.

  "Hit 'er up, Billy," said Bart, lazily. "We don't mind being miserableif it gives you any comfort."

  "Quit your knocking," grinned Billy. "You know you're just dying tohear it. What do you fellows want--the Moonlight Sonata or somethingelse simple like that?"

  "That's too high class for this bunch," said Tom. "Though there'splenty of moonlight outside," he added, as he looked out the window.

  "I've had all the outside I want for one day," said Frank. "I'd justas soon stay where I am." He was penning a letter to his mother,telling her of many things that had happened, and stating that, so far,he had not had a chance to learn anything about his grandfather'sestate.

  "Well, I'm waiting," said Billy. "What does the gang want? Jazz bandmusic? That's about your style."

  "No, give us something that sounds like home," said Tom. "Some ofthose southern melodies."

  "Yes," urged Bart. "You're a dabster at that, Billy."

  "All right," said Billy, cheerfully. "Anything to oblige."

  He picked the strings for a moment and then began to sing softly--

  "Swing low, sweet chariot Gwine for to ca'y me home Swing low, sweet chario--ot Gwine for to ca'y me home."

  _Bang!_ There was a tremendous explosion close to the mill. The airwas filled with a deafening din.

  The boys jumped to their feet.

  "That hit mighty close!" cried Frank.

  "What do you suppose it was?" came from Tom. "A shell?"

  "We're too far away from the German lines for that," replied Bart.

  "More likely it's a bomb from an airship," said Frank. "Let's take asquint outside and see."

  They rushed out and their first glance was toward the sky. But therewas nothing visible there, nor could they hear the whirring of motorsthat was the invariable accompaniment of air raids.

  But when they searched around the mill they were more successful, forthe bright moonlight revealed a freshly dug hole in the ground thatformed a veritable crater.

  "It was a bomb all right," pronounced Frank. "And from the size of thehole it made it was a lallapalooza. It's lucky it didn't hit the mill."

  "I guess some Hun aviator was flying back to his own lines and droppedthis as a sort of visiting card," said Billy. "Oh, well, what's alittle bit of bomb between friends? Come on back, fellows."

  "Yes, come along in and listen to Caruso," chaffed Tom.

  Once inside, Billy again picked up his banjo and began to croon.

  "It rained all night the day I left The next day it was dry. The sun so hot I froze to def Suzanna, don't you cry."

  One after another took up the rollicking chorus--

  "Oh, Suzanna, Don't you cry for me, Fur I'se gwine to Alabama Wif de banjo on my knee."

  _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ came three quick explosions, blending in atremendous roar.

  At the same instant a hole appeared in the roof. Part of it caved inand came clattering down while a blinding glare filled the room!