The Khaki Boys Over the Top | Page 3

it by talking cautiously.
"I think we'll all be together again," said Roger, trying to speak
cheerfully. "Somehow I've got a feeling that we'll come out of this all
right."
"Me, I hat a dream," slowly remarked Iggy. "Of my dream I now know
only one cling--und dot is my face was all bloody!"
"Oh, for the love of Mike! Don't croak!" exclaimed Jimmy.
"Silence down there!" came a sharp command. Jimmy had spoken too
loudly, and the listening lieutenant had heard him.
Slowly the minutes dragged. Once again Roger carefully looked at his
watch.

"What time is it?" whispered Franz.
"Five minutes of."
"Great Scott! Is it only ten minutes since you looked before! It seems
like a lifetime. Whew! I'm all in a sweat!"
And yet the night was cool.
It was now as silent as death in the trench, and all about it. Earlier in
the night there had been distant shelling, but this had ceased some time
since.
Roger, unable to stand the strain longer, was about to flash his little
pocket electric torch again when suddenly the stillness of the night was
broken by a loud, shrill whistle.
"The signal!" cried Jimmy.
"The zero hour at last!" shrilled Roger in his tense excitement.
"Over the top!" yelled Bob. "Over the top!"
And just as the first streaks of the gray light of dawn began to pierce
the blackness, the five Brothers, and their comrades up and down the
trenches, leaped from their places of waiting with savage yells, and
started for the German lines.
"I am glad! I am glad!" sang Iggy. "Now I can of the fight have a
piece!"
He and Franz sprang out of the trench together. Side by side they raced
over the rough ground, through the gaps cut in the barbed wire. A little
in advance were Jimmy, Roger and Bob.
And now the big guns began their chorus. With boom and roar, roar
and boom they sang their anthem of death. The rattle of rifles came in
as a response, and all this was punctured by fiendish yells.

Then, too, from the German lines, came the answering song of the big
guns. Though the attack had taken them by surprise, they were not slow
in responding. With all that we think of the Boches we must give them
credit for being savage, if unfair, fighters. They seldom declined a
challenge, at least on the front lines.
"Come on! Come on!" yelled Jimmy.
"Up and at 'em! Up and at 'em!" snapped Roger.
"Wow! This is going to be some fight!" exulted Bob.
It was fast growing light, and the disappearing darkness was further
illuminated by the flashes from hundreds of guns. Lines of khaki-clad
Sammies were pouring from the American trenches now, in a mad rush
for the Hun positions.
"Well, we're together yet, anyhow," mused Jimmy, as, looking back, he
saw Bob, the Polish lad, and Franz coming on with a rush.
"Yes, we're together--yet," added Roger. They both had been firing
madly at the distant gray lines of German soldiers in front of them.
They had to yell into each other's ears to be heard above the din.
Suddenly the very earth seemed to drop away from under their feet.
They felt the shock of rushing air. A big, high-explosive shell had
dropped near them.
"That's bad!" shouted Jimmy, as the concussion died away. He looked
behind him and saw, with horror, Iggy, the Polish Brother, literally
being blown back through the air. Whether this was the effect of the big
shell that had exploded, or whether it was caused by a smaller one
going off a moment later, Jimmy could not tell. But he saw Iggy
hurtling through the air, and the face of the Polish lad was covered with
blood, as he himself had said it had been in his dream.

CHAPTER II

TO THE RESCUE
"Go on! Don't stop! Slam at 'em!"
It was the sharp command of the lieutenant in immediate charge of the
detachment including Jimmy Blaise and his comrades.
"Forward! Forward!" was yelled on every side.
The din continued--increased. It seemed as though there could be
nothing left whole on earth again; in all that riot of noise and blood--as
though everything must be rent to pieces.
"Are you all right!" cried Jimmy in the ear of Roger.
"Yes. Not scratched yet. How about--"
A loud explosion to one side cut off his words in a blast, but Jimmy
knew what his chum wanted to say. When there was a momentary lull
he answered:
"Iggy's gone!"
"Gone?"
"Yes. I had a glimpse of him being blown back--his face was all
red--bloody."
Roger could not repress a shudder. But there was no time for any
thoughts like these. He had a glimpse of Bob