Army Boys in the French Trenches | Page 9

at
their company headquarters.
They found the corporal grave and preoccupied.
"As I suppose you fellows have already guessed," he began, "we're
going to-night on a scouting party. We're to find out the condition of
the wire in front of that third trench that the Huns still hold, and we
want to get more exact information about the location of the enemy's
machine guns. Anything else we find out will be welcome, but those
are the main things.
"It's going to be pretty risky work," he continued. "Not but what there's
always plenty of risk about a job of this kind, but to-night there's more
than usual. The fierce fighting to-day has got the enemy all stirred up
and he'll be on the alert. Likely enough he'll have scouting parties of his
own out, and we may run across them in the dark. Then it will be a
question of who is the quicker with knife or bayonet. Now you boys
scatter and get your crawling suits and hoods and masks, and we'll be
ready for business.
"I can see that there'll be no monotony in our young lives to-night,"
observed Frank to Bart, as they obeyed instructions.
"Not that you can notice," agreed Bart. "The corp has quite a little
program marked out for us."
"So it seems."
"And No Man's Land is going to be a little rougher land to-night than it
ever was before," predicted Tom. "That mine explosion hasn't done a
thing to it."

"All the better," chimed in Billy. "There'll be better places to hide in
when Fritz throws up his star shells. But let's get a hustle on or the corp
will be after us."
They got into their "crawling suits," so named because they were used
only on scouting duty, when it was necessary to move over the earth on
their stomachs or at best on hands and knees. They were a dead black in
color, and in addition to the suit itself comprised a black mask and
hood. The hood was loose and shapeless, so as to avoid the sharp
outline that would have been afforded if it were tight-fitting.
Dressed in this fashion and lying prone and motionless on the ground
whenever a star shell threw its greenish radiance over the field, the
scouts were reasonably safe from detection and sniping. They would
seem, if seen at all, to be just so many more objects added to the
hundreds that littered up the ground between the two armies.
Since they had been in France, the boys had had special training in
scouting duty, and the one thing that had been drilled into them perhaps
more than anything else was the necessity for "playing dead," as Tom
expressed it. One of their exercises compelled them to lie on the ground
absolutely motionless for an hour. Not even a muscle could twitch
without bringing a reprimand from their keen-eyed instructor. Another
part of the drill made them take half an hour merely to rise to their feet
from a prostrate position, each move in the process being marked by
the utmost caution. It was hard drill, but necessary, and in time the boys
had gained a control over their muscles that would have done credit to
an Apache Indian.
In a few minutes they were fully arrayed in their crawling suits and
reported to Corporal Wilson. He looked them over carefully and noted
with satisfaction that nothing that was essential to the success of their
night foray was lacking.
"With a fair share of luck we'll bring home the bacon," he remarked, as
he led the way from the trench.
At the start there was no special caution necessary, as would have been

the case the day before. For the two trenches in front of them that had
been occupied by the enemy were now in the possession of the United
States troops.
All that day, since the mine explosion had given the signal for attack
and storm, the Germans who had been driven from their first two lines
of trenches had made desperate efforts to get them back. There had
been fierce counter attacks, many times repeated, but through them all
the Americans had stood like a rock and thrown the enemy back
without yielding a foot of the conquered ground.
At nightfall the enemy had ceased his infantry attacks, although the big
guns on both sides, like angry mastiffs, kept growling at each other.
"It's been a great day for our fellows," exulted Frank, as they picked
their way through the welter of debris that bore testimony to the
violence of the fighting.
"It sure has," agreed Bart.
"We've got there with both feet," remarked Tom.
"And in both trenches," chimed in Billy.
"Yes," said Frank. "I'm glad we didn't stop at the