Army Boys in the French Trenches | Page 3

ahead, for the second and third German lines were
still intact, bristling with men and supported heavily by their guns.
"This was easy," grinned Billy.
"Like taking a dead mouse from a blind kitten," chuckled Tom, as he
wiped the grime and perspiration from his face.
"Don't fool yourselves," warned Frank, as a shell came whining over
their heads. "This was only a skirmish. The real fight is coming, and
coming mighty quick!"


CHAPTER II
THE UPLIFTED KNIFE
Even while Frank Sheldon spoke, the artillery of the enemy took on a
deeper note until it reached the intensity of drumfire.
But now the American gunners took a hand, and the shells came
pouring over the heads of the boys, searching out the line of the second
enemy trench and preparing the way for the advance.
In obedience to commands, the American soldiers had sought shelter
wherever they could find it, while they were recovering their wind.
Only a moment could be granted for this, however, for time was
everything just now. They had caught the enemy off his guard and must
take advantage of the opportunity.
"Line up, men!" cried the leader of Frank's detachment, and the high
state of discipline that the American forces had reached was shown by
the promptness with which the order was obeyed.
A signal was sent back to the supporting guns, and they opened up a

deadly barrage fire over the heads of Frank and his comrades, clearing
the ground before them of everything that dared to show itself in the
open.
Behind this curtain of fire, the boys advanced, slowly at first, but
gathering speed at every stride, until they were running at the double
quick.
Bullets rained about them from the machine guns of the enemy and
great shells tore gaps in the ranks. At Frank's left, a soldier suddenly
wavered and then pitched headlong into a shell hole and lay still.
Another toppled over with a bullet in his shoulder. But the lanes that
were made closed almost instantly.
Now they had reached the wire entanglements that had been battered by
the artillery until they hung in festoons around their posts, leaving paths
through which the American lads poured.
Then like a great tidal wave they struck the trench!
The Germans had clambered out to meet them, and when the two forces
met the shock was terrific. Back and forth the battle surged and swayed,
each side fighting with the fury of desperation. The cannon had ceased
now, for in that locked mass the shells were as likely to kill friends as
foes. It was man against man, bayonet against bayonet, each combatant
obeying the primitive law of "kill or be killed."
The opposing forces at this part of the line were nearly equal, with the
Germans having a slight advantage in numbers. But to make up for this,
the Americans had the advantage of the attack and the tremendous
momentum with which they had struck the enemy's line.
For a time victory hung in the balance, but then Yankee determination
and superior skill in bayonet work began to tell. The Americans would
not be denied. The German line was pierced, and the forces broke up
into a number of battling groups.
Frank and Bart, Billy and Tom, who all through the fight had managed

to keep together, found themselves engaged with a squad of Germans
double their number, two of whom were frantically trying to bring a
machine gun to bear upon them.
With a bound Frank was upon them. He toppled one over with his
bayonet, but while he was doing this the other fired at him point-blank
with a revolver. At such a close range he could not have missed, had
not Bart, quick as a flash, clubbed him over the arm with his rifle,
making the bullet go wild.
"Quick, Bart!" panted Frank, as with his comrade's help he slued the
machine gun around, gripped the trigger, and sent a stream of bullets
into a group of the enemy charging down upon him.
Before that withering fire they dissolved like mist, and a circle was
cleared as though by magic.
What Germans were left in that immediate vicinity leaped back into the
trench on the edge of which they had been fighting.
"Now we've got them!" cried Frank, as with his friends' assistance he
quickly wheeled the gun to the brink of the trench and depressed the
muzzle so that it commanded the huddled bunch below. "Come out of
that, you fellows. Hands up, quick!"
They may not have understood his words, but there was no
misunderstanding the meaning of that black sinister muzzle of the
machine gun with a hundred deaths behind it. They were trapped, and
their hands went up with cries of "_Kamerad!_" in