CHAPTER XXIII
FACING THE HUN
Just this side of one of the lines of trenches the regiment halted atthe word of the commander. Then it stood at attention and presentedarms while from out the trenches came an endless line of men who hadheld that trench for France and now were yielding their place to theardent young soldiers of the sister republic across the sea.
There was a strong impulse to cheer on both sides, but that might havebetrayed to the enemy the change that was taking place in that sectorof the line, and this for strategic reasons, it was desirable to avoid.
Soon the last of the war-worn veterans was lost in the darkness. Then,with infinite caution the boys of the old Thirty-seventh marched intothe trenches, guided only by lanterns that waved low before them likeso many fireflies.
So perfectly the movement had been planned, so carefully had beenmapped out in advance the exact location that each unit of the commandwas to occupy, that, within an hour after the substitution had beenmade, the entire regiment was placed, and, apart from those detailedfor duty, was sound asleep!
Curiosity ran riot when the army boys woke in their unfamiliarsurroundings. At last they had reached the trenches, that magic wordthat they had heard again and again in the daily discussions of thelast three years, and they studied every detail of their newsurroundings with the keenest interest and zest.
Here they were to live, here some of them, beyond a question, were todie. The thought was sobering, and on that first day there was littleof the gaiety and jest that had marked their life in the camps behind.
"Well, Bart, old scout, we're in for it now," said Frank, afterbreakfast, as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"In for fair," responded Bart.
"We're up against the real thing," added Billy. "We had a little tasteof trench life down in Mexico, but most of the life was in the open.This is a different proposition."
Just then a shell came screaming overhead and the boys involuntarilyducked.
"That seems to prove it," said Tom.
"Bad shooting though," remarked Frank, coolly. "Fritz ought to havethe 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 theycall a 'quiet sector.' The boys are just put here to be broken in andget used to the sight and sound of the shells. This is a deaf and dumbasylum compared to what you'll get later on."
"Job's comforter," murmured Bart. "To hear the corporal talk you'dthink this was a rest cure."
In the hours of liberty allowed them the army boys explored thetrenches for a long distance in either direction, and what they sawtended 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 agigantic ditch. They found it to be an underground city.
There was a bewildering labyrinth of passages branching off in everydirection. There were spacious 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 butefficient in operation. The sleeping quarters of the men consistedchiefly of bunks, rising in tiers, though in some cases, cots were used.
There was an apparently endless series of communicating trenches withthe listening posts in advance of the main line. There were telephonewires and electric lights.
"The moles have got nothing on us," remarked Tom, as he noted the vastextent of these subterranean passages.
"It's like the catacombs of Rome," put in Billy. "The only differenceis that those contain dead men while we're very much alive."
"Knock wood," counseled Bart. "We wouldn't be very long if the Bocheshad their way."
Along the side of the main trench, facing the enemy was a narrowplatform on which the men stood who were on watch. A series ofcunningly contrived loopholes enabled them to look over at the enemytrenches without themselves being seen.
Sand bags were piled on the top of the trench in numbers sufficient tostop the flight of a bullet or even the impact of a shell.
A series of steps led up to the top and the boys reflected as theylooked at them that before long their feet would be planted there whenthe order should be given to go "_over the top_" and charge across theintervening space to meet the enemy.
The silent men standing on watch, gripping their muskets, their eyespeering through the loopholes, seemed like so many statues.
Each had his gas mask ready to clap on at an instant's notice, for whenthat deadly poison should be wafted over the trench, one second of timemight mean all the difference between life and death.
Before the day was over Frank and his comrades had replaced this lineof sentinels. They peered curiously across to the German trench fromwhich they were separated by not more than two hundred yards.
There was absolutely nothing to be seen except the line of sand bagsthat they knew marked the positions of the enemy. Nothing broke themonotonous expanse of shell-torn earth.
They had an uncanny feeling as though they were the only livingcreatures left in the world.
"It looks as though all the Germans had gone back to Berlin," remarkedFrank 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 onthe point of a bayonet.
Zip! came a bullet, missing the helmet by a hair and thudding into oneof the sand bags.
"Take it all back," said Frank as he resumed his hat. "They're on thejob!"
A week passed by with only two casualties on the American side, for thesector was indeed a quiet one. But certain signs of a projectedmovement on the part of the enemy had made the American officersuneasy, and one day Corporal Wilson called Frank apart.
"Sheldon," he said, "Captain Baker has ordered me to take a squad ofmen 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. Theyreceived 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.
Army Boys in France; or, From Training Camp to Trenches Page 23