Corporal Sam | Page 4

the artillery-men across the Urumea were still plying their guns on the
sea-wall, to dissuade the besieged from repairing it in the darkness. To
be sure a signal for the assault--the firing of a mine against the
hornwork--had been concerted, and was duly given; but in the din and
the darkness it was either not heard or not understood.
Thus it happened that the forlorn hope and the supporting companies of
the Royals had no sooner cleared the trenches than their ranks shook
under a fire of grape, and from our own guns. There was no cure but to
dash through it and take the chances, and Major Frazer, waving his
sword, called on his men to follow him at the double. Ahead of them,
along the foot of the sea-wall, the receding tide had left a strip of strand,
foul with rock and rock pools and patches of seaweed, dark and
slippery. Now and again a shell burst and illuminated these patches, or
the still-dripping ooze twinkled under flashes of musketry from the
wall above; for the defenders had hurried to the parapet and flanking
towers, and their fire already crackled the whole length of the strand.
Sergeant Wilkes, running a pace or two behind the major, slipping and
staggering at every second yard, was aware--though he could not see
him--of young Corporal Sam close at his shoulder. The lad talked to

himself as he ran: but his talk was no more than a babble of quiet
unmeaning curses, and the sergeant, who understood how the lust of
fighting works in different men, did not trouble to answer until, himself
floundering up to his knees in a saltwater pool, he flung out a hand for
support and felt it gripped.
'Damn them!' The corporal, dragging him to solid foothold, cast a look
up as a shell burst high overhead, and his face showed white with
passion in the glare of it. 'Can't any one tell them there's no sense in it!'
'Take it easy, lad,' panted the sergeant, cheerfully. 'They're bound to
understand in a minute, hearin' all this musketry. Accidents will
happen--and anyway they can't help seein' us at the breach. Look at the
light of it beyond the tower there!'
They floundered on together. The tower, not fifty yards away, jetted
fire from every loophole; but its marksmen were aiming into the
darkness, having been caught in a hurry and before they could throw
down flares. As the sergeant rushed to get close under the wall of it, a
bullet sent his shako whizzing; but still he ran on, and came bareheaded
to the foot of the breach.
It ran down to the foreshore, a broadening scree of rubble, ruined
masonry, broken beams of timber--some of them smouldering; and
over the top of it shone the blaze of the town. But the actual gap
appeared to be undefended, and, better still, the rubbish on the near side
had so piled itself that for half the way up the stormers could climb
under cover, protected from the enfilading fire. Already the major had
dropped on hands and knees and was leading the way up, scrambling
from heap to heap of rubbish. Close after him went an officer in the
uniform of the Engineers, with Corporal Sam at his heels. The sergeant
ducked his head and followed, dodging from block to block of masonry
on the other side of which the bullets spattered.
'Forward! Forward the Royals!'
The leaders were shouting it, and he passed on the shout. As yet, not a
man had fallen on the slope of the breach. Two, more agile than he

because by some years younger, overtook and passed him; but he was
the sixth to reach the summit, and might reckon this very good work for
a man of his weight. Then, as he turned to shout again, three more of
the forlorn hope came blundering up, and the nine stood unscathed on
the summit of the gap and apparently with none to oppose them.
But beyond it--between them and the town, and a sheer twenty feet
below them, lay a pool of blazing tar, the flames of which roared up
against their faces.
'Forward the Royals! Ladders--ladders! Oh, for your life, forward with
the ladders!'
The major started the cry. Corporal Sam, taking it up, screamed it again
and again. In the darkness, behind and below, the sergeant heard
Captain Archimbeau calling to his men to hurry. One ladder-bearer
came clattering up; but the ladders were in six-foot lengths, and a
single length was useless. Nevertheless, in his rage of haste, Corporal
Sam seized it from the man, and was bending to clamp it over the pit,
when from the parapet to the right a sudden cross-fire swept the head of
the breach. A