The Khaki Boys Over the Top | Page 8

got to get him to the rear--to a hospital," said Roger in a low
voice, as the Polish lad's head drooped weakly on his shoulder.
"Yes," assented Jimmy. "But can we carry him?"
"Got to!"
They looked about for some means of getting Iggy to the top of the
shell hole. That would be the most difficult part of the rescue. Then, to
their surprise, the two who had come back to seek their friend, heard a
hail on the rim of the crater above them.
"What's the matter down there?" came the cry. "Do you want help!"
"You said it!" voiced Jimmy, vigorously.
"All right. Wait a minute. We'll be right down!"
It was two stretcher-bearers who had hailed, and, a little later, Ignace
Pulinski was being carried to the rear. He had fainted when brought to
the top of the shell hole.

CHAPTER IV

A DOUBLE LOSS
After waiting a moment on the ground at the top of the shell crater, to
see their comrade being carried to a first-aid dressing station at the rear,
Jimmy and Roger started back to join their two friends who were still,
it was to be hoped, waiting for orders to advance.
"S'pose he's much hurt?" asked Roger, something like a dry sob
choking him as he thought of poor Iggy.
"I'm afraid so--yes," answered Jimmy. "That business of his legs
feeling numb is a bad sign. It's a wonder he lived as long as he did,
after what happened to him."
"I'll say so!" agreed Roger. "Tough luck all right!"
"Why," went on his chum as they started back toward their former
places, "it looked as if his whole face was blown in. I can't understand
it"
"Well, they'll do the best they can for him back there," and Roger
nodded toward the dressing stations. "Maybe we'll get a chance to go to
see him after this battle."
His words were drowned in a new roar of artillery and machine-gun
fire. The heavy booming and the short, sharp, rattling explosions of the
smaller guns seemed very close at hand.
"Something's doing!" cried Jimmy.
"Come on!" shouted his chum, and, with their rifles and gas masks,
which they had brought up out of the shell hole, they rushed forward.
And as they advanced they became aware of shrill, whistling sounds in
the air about them.
"Duck! Duck!" yelled Roger. "They're firing over our sector now!
We've got to crawl back!"
Jimmy realized this as well as did his chum, and, in another moment,

the two were making their way back to their line as they had left it, by
alternately moving on their hands and knees and again by working
themselves forward on their elbows and stomach. It was the only safe
way. The horizontal storm of missiles was, fortunately, about three feet
above them, but that distance precluded walking upright.
"Come on, boys! Fall in! Fall in!" cried their lieutenant as Roger and
Jimmy got back "We're going to advance. You're just in time!"
"Did you find him?" asked Bob, as he leaped to his feet in readiness for
a dash toward the German lines.
"Yes. In a shell hole!" yelled Jimmy, for the firing was heavy on both
sides of them now, making a vicious din.
"Alive!" Franz wanted to know.
"Yes, alive, but how long he'll be that way it's hard to say," answered
Roger. "He was under a pile of dirt and--"
"Come on! Come on!" cried the lieutenant. "We're going to finish the
job!"
He was leading his men, not driving them on as do the Germans, and
nobly the four Brothers and their fellows followed the gallant
lieutenant.
On they rushed--ever onward. About them swept the leaden hail of
death. Shoulder to shoulder, firing from the hip, rushed the four Khaki
Boys. And even in that terrible din of battle they spared a thought for
the gallant comrade who would have been with him if he could.
With wild yells the Sammies swept over the first line of German
trenches. The Boches had deserted them in the face of a withering rifle
and machine-gun fire.
"Come on! Come on!" yelled the lieutenant again and again. "They're
laying down a perfect barrage for us! The Huns can't get through to

attack us!"
This was true, to a certain extent. Supported by the big guns in the rear,
the 509th Infantry was rushing onward. Before them, and ever moving
forward, was a never-ending curtain of fire--a hail of lead and steel.
As this curtain advanced, caused by the continual but slow elevation of
the muzzles of the big guns, the infantry followed. And this fire kept
the German support from coming to save the lines that were under
attack.
"Wipe 'em out! Wipe out the Hun nests!" cried the lieutenant.