The Khaki Boys Over the Top | Page 6

as you say!" murmured Roger, as he began to rise. It was not without a natural feeling of timidity that he cautiously elevated himself first to his knees and then to his feet. As for Jimmy, he had impulsively stood upright.
"Come on!" he yelled above the din of battle. "Come on!"
He started on a run over the shell-torn ground, with what remained of the barbed wire entanglements here and there.
"I'm coming!" answered Roger.
He expected any moment to receive a bullet, or to be utterly blasted from the earth by some terrible shell explosion. And Jimmy confessed, later, that he felt the same fear. But these fears did not hold back the Khaki Boys from continuing on to the rescue of their comrade--if he was in a condition to be rescued.
"Where's the place?" cried Roger to his chum, when they had covered several yards in a hasty rush toward the rear.
"Must be somewhere around here," answered Jimmy, looking about him. That part of No Man's Land where they then were, seemingly was deserted by all save the dead. If there had been any injured they had been taken well back behind the lines by stretcher bearers.
For a time Roger and Jimmy feared they might be considered deserters, coming toward the rear as they were doing, and away from the fighting, and aside from mere scratches neither of them showing any wounds. Though if they had been hurt that would have been an excuse for making a retreat.
But no one observed the two--there was no one to observe them, in fact. They were some distance from their own trenches, and immediately back of them--toward the German lines--there had been a division in the fighting, so that the battle waged on either wing, as it were.
"Look in all the shell holes!" directed Jimmy. "The shell burst right in front, or to one side of poor Iggy. He was blown into a shell hole, of that I'm pretty sure."
"There's a hole--a big one, too," said Roger. "But there's no one in it--only dead!" and he turned away, for some of those dead were comrades who, the night before, had been in the trenches with him and his chums.
But the Khaki Boys were hardened to scenes like this now. Too many times had they seen the dead and dying. There was no time to nurse one's feelings.
"Come on! Come on!" cried Jimmy feverishly. "We've got to be quick! Iggy may bleed to death if he's hurt anything like I think he is."
"Yes, and this place may be a regular lead hail storm, soon," added Roger. "I can't see why our company was held up! Why couldn't we keep on giving the Huns what they deserve?"
"Orders are orders, my boy, we learned that long ago. And when the lieut. wouldn't let us go on, there must be some reason for it. I'm just as anxious to give Fritz his medicine as anyone. Hello, there! Did you hear that queer noise!"
"Yes. Sounded like a groan. Listen!"
The tide of battle was away from them now, and they were able, above the distant roar, to hear ordinary sounds, which had not been the case when the attack started. The sun was well up now, and the day gave promise of being a fine one--hot, too. And on such a scene the sun shone! Death and devastation brought on by human beasts!
"There it is again!" cried Roger, "It sure was a groan."
"Somebody around here is alive, at any rate," said Jimmy.
There were a number of terribly mangled bodies near them, and it was hardly believable that the groan came from any of those poor forms of what had once been living men.
"Over here!" cried Roger suddenly. "The sound came from down in that shell hole!"
He pointed to one, on the sides of which was fresh earth, showing that the explosive had recently fallen.
"There's no one down in that hole," declared Roger, taking a look.
"Yes there is!" asserted Jimmy. "See that shoe sticking out!"
He pointed to what seemed but a mound of dirt and stones in the very bottom of the shell crater. And Roger observed that the dirt did not altogether cover a leg and foot. An army shoe was sticking out.
"Come on!" cried Jimmy, and the next moment he was sliding down the side of the shell hole. Roger followed, and the two began to roll aside the larger stones that had fallen on the body. The Khaki Boys leaned their rifles against the side of the crater, and took off their gas masks, from where they lining ready for use, in order to work more freely.
"The wind isn't right for a gas attack," murmured Roger, as he temporarily deprived himself of this necessary protection.
As the boys feverishly worked to uncover the form they heard another loud groan coming