Army Boys in the French Trenches | Page 2

murmured Tom. "But why don't the guns open
up?"
"They always do before it's time to charge," commented Billy, as he
shifted his position a little. "I suppose they will now almost any
minute."
"I don't think there'll be any gun fire this time before we go over the
top," ventured Frank.
"What do you mean?" asked Bart in surprise, as he turned his head
toward his chum.
"Do you know anything?" queried Tom.
"Not exactly know, but I've heard enough to make a guess," replied
Frank. "I think we're going to play the game a little differently this time.
Unless I'm mistaken, the Huns are going to get the surprise of their
lives."
"Put on gas masks!" came another order, and in the six seconds allowed
for this operation the masks were donned, making the men in the long
line look like so many goblins.
It was light enough for them to see each other now, for the gray fingers
of the dawn were already drawing the curtain of darkness aside from
the eastern sky.
One minute more passed--a minute of tense, fierce expectation, while
the boys gripped their rifles until it seemed that their fingers would
bury themselves in the stocks.
Crash!
With a roar louder than a thousand guns the earth under the German
first-line trenches split asunder, and tons of rock and mud and guns and

men were hurled toward the sky.
The din was terrific, the sight appalling, and the shock for an instant
was almost as great to the Americans as to their opponents, though far
less tragic.
"Now, men," shouted their lieutenant, "over with you!" and with a wild
yell of exultation the boys clambered over the edge of the trench and
started toward the German lines.
"We're off!" panted Frank, as, with eyes blazing and bayonet ready for
instant use, he rushed forward in the front rank.
"To a flying start!" gasped Bart, and then because breath was precious
they said no more, but raced on like greyhounds freed from the leash.
On, on they went, with the wind whipping their faces! On, still on, to
the red ruin wrought by the explosion of the mine.
For the first fifty yards the going was easy except for the craters and
shell holes into which some of the boys slid and tumbled. The enemy
had been so numbed and paralyzed by the overwhelming explosion that
they seemed to be unable to make any resistance.
But the officers knew, and the men as well, that this was only the lull
before the storm. Their enemy was desperate and resourceful, and
though the cleverness of the American engineers had carried through
the mine operation without detection, it was certain that the foe would
rally.
Fifty yards from the first-line trench--forty--thirty--and then the
German guns spoke.
A long line of flame flared up crimson in the pallid dawn.
"Down, men, down!" shouted their officers, and the Yankee lads threw
themselves flat on the ground while a leaden hail swept furiously over
them.

"Are you hurt, Bart?" cried Frank anxiously, as he heard a sharp
exclamation from his comrade.
"Not by a bullet," growled Bart. "Took some of the skin off my knee
though when I went down."
A second time the murderous fire came hurtling over them, but the
officers noted with satisfaction that the enemy were shooting high.
"They haven't got the range yet," observed Billy.
"Up!" came the word of command, and again the men were on their
feet and racing like mad toward the trench.
They came at last to where it had been. For it was no longer a trench!
Gone was the zigzag line that the boys knew by heart from having
faced and fought against it for weeks. The mine had done its work
thoroughly.
Everywhere was a welter of hideous confusion. Barbed wire
entanglements with their supporting posts had been rooted from the
ground. Guns had been torn from their carriages. "Pill boxes" had been
smashed to bits. Horses and men and wagons and camp kitchens were
mingled together in wildest chaos.
Parts of the trench had been filled to the surface with earth, while huge
boulders blocked the entrance to some of the communicating passages.
There were a few sharp fights with scattered units of the enemy that
had retained their senses and were trying to get their machine guns into
action. But these detachments were soon cut down or captured. The
great majority of the survivors were so dazed that they surrendered with
scarcely a show of resistance and were rounded up in squads to be sent
to the rear.
The first trench had been won, and it was almost a bloodless victory,
only a few of the American troops having fallen in the sudden rush.

But sterner work lay