The Brighton Boys in the Argonne Forest

  CHAPTER XXIV

  FAST WORK

  IT is the unexpected that often happens, in battle as well as ineveryday life.

  Captain Lowden had given orders to his men to cease advancing a littlebefore darkness set in and to hold the ground they had gained againstcounter-assaults, a plan carried out by the 77th Division wherever thefighting was so severe as to show that the Germans equaled or exceededthe Americans in numbers and were most bitterly contesting the ground.

  About twenty men of a depleted platoon were now with the Captain andoperating directly under him. With the setting of the sun they beganto prepare a hasty camp, putting up a few small tents, all used forthe temporary relief of the wounded. A messenger had been sent afterstretcher bearers and several men had been detailed to roughly clear anold roadway that led out to the nearest approach for ambulances.

  But although there was much hustle and bustle about the camp, itreally bore a remarkable contrast to the daytime scenes of men inaction and of those supporting and aiding them in every way. In alittle while the activities quieted down and the men began to seekplaces of rest, a few pickets being sent forward, as usual, and othersdetailed to remain on guard against an attack of the enemy. CaptainLowden went back to the hospital tents.

  Needing sleep more than anything else, Lieutenants Whitcomb andRichards selected ponchos and rolled up on beds of leaves, dropping offinstantly into perfect oblivion. Don meant to ask something about Gill,who had suddenly acted as though ill and had been sent to the rear, butthe question died before the boy could frame the words. He would nothave got a reply had he spoken.

  The hours dragged on for those awake. Private Neeley had been hit inthe hand; so slight a wound that he did not report it. But now itcommenced to hurt and gaining his corporal’s consent he went to therear to have the wound dressed. That done, he returned, coming alonethrough the short stretch of woods between the camp and the _abri_.It was not very dark and now and then distant flares brightened thesurroundings a little, even slightly penetrating the forest.

  Neeley paused to rub his paining wrist; he looked off among the treesquite absent-mindedly, and an object that ordinarily he would havetaken for a stump seemed to move slightly. The soldier gazed at itcuriously; the thing moved again.

  The Yank was without his gun; he had placed it against a tree, callingthe corporal’s attention to it. Neeley had his automatic, but while nocoward, he was cautious; it would hardly do, with only a pistol, tochallenge a possible enemy scout. Better pretend not to have noticedthe object and then to watch it.

  Therefore, Neeley calmly walked on slowly and when he knew he was outof sight of the thing, if it were human, he silently doubled back andcrouching within the gloom of a big spruce, kept his eyes sharplydirected toward the spot where the moving object had been.

  Was it possible, he wondered, for a Hun to sneak so far through theAmerican lines and would one dare to do it? The Yank’s query wasanswered very soon. There was not one, but fully thirty men slowlyadvancing, still for half a minute, then moving forward for a fewseconds, all together as in drilling. They were strung out likesheep, though far apart, and they came along this unoccupied stretchof woodland from the densely grown hilltop above the late fortifiedposition of the lost squad. That great thicketed patch was surely Hunterritory, up to the present time, at least.

  If these were Yanks, they would not come among their friends in thismanner, but the enemy would do just so. Surely an error had been madein not picketing the slope below the rocks. And now the little bunchof Yanks separated from the rest of the company, would soon face, in anight assault made upon them, superior numbers, with the advantage ofsurprise.

  With all the speed possible, not to apprize the foe, Neeley got outof his place of close observation and, once beyond sight of the Huns,made rapid progress to the camp. The fellow fairly flung himself uponHerbert and shook him like mad, bringing the lad to a sitting posture;then instantly to his feet and awake. Neeley knew it was necessary tospread the alarm silently, lest the Huns should be impelled to attackat once; the Yanks, in turn, must quickly be ready to give the enemy asurprise.

  Lieutenant Whitcomb shook the cobwebs out of his brain; he caught DonRichards by the collar and yanked that officer to his feet, dodging hissleepy blow, and sent Neeley to apprize the guard and pickets, thatthey might all, observing caution, waken their sleeping comrades. Withwhispered commands Herbert brought the platoon silently to attentionand made his hasty plan known. From a few spare garments a figurenot unlike a scarecrow was erected and a few yards away a bull’s-eyelantern was left burning. Then, dividing the men into two groups of teneach, one with Don and the other with Herbert, they sneaked off intothe woods in opposite directions and a little toward the rear, eachman following the example of the leader by crouching or hiding behinda tree. The signal for action, a combined rush from two directions,was to be the whistle of a bird, as though some belated songster wasdisturbed on its roost. Each man tied a handkerchief, or white rag, tohis cap band to avoid being shot by friend instead of foe.

  But the Yanks had long to wait and just exactly what they were waitingfor they did not know. There was no sound of a definite character inthe forest near by; it was not possible to see for more than a fewyards. At any moment, back near the camp, they expected to hear thesound of rushing feet and the Hun order of “Hands oop, Amerikaner!” Itnever came.

  After nearly half an hour, almost convinced that some mistake had beenmade, Don took it into his head to do some scouting. If there were afalse alarm, a needless scare, he would endeavor to find it out.

  Asking Sergeant Fetters to take command, the boy went off toward thestretch of more open woods at the base of the hill and just below therock basin and spruces, the scene of so many recent tragedies and braveacts. The boy knew this spot, even at night; he knew the only way thatmight be taken without mishap after dark to gain the top. Did he hearsome sounds a hundred yards or more away, as of feet stepping on loosestones, a cracking stick, a low command, or was he imagining this?

  Don quickly and by a slightly circuitous route gained a position at thebottom of the hill and waited. Even now he half believed he was on asort of wild goose chase; it was probably all quite absurd.

  But what was that? Another breaking stick, a low word spoken and nowquite near. With field glasses one may discern objects much fartheraway and more clearly at night, and the boy’s handy little lenses cameinto play. Coming slowly almost toward him, working their way withinfinite caution and at a snail’s pace up the hill, were many figures.Were they friends or foes? Did this bear out Neeley’s observations?

  Don held his place, with some risk of the advancing men’s discoveringhim, but he was sufficiently curious. Again the little glassesperformed their duty. The first man in the van wore a German officer’sservice cap.

  The fact was pretty evident that after a painfully tedious, silentmarch into the very jaws of the American positions, in order tosurprise and capture a platoon of sleeping men, of which in some waythey had gained knowledge, they had found these fellows had becomealarmed and so, patiently, after the German painstaking method, theHuns were retracing their steps.

  A quick mental calculation convinced Don that he could get back andbring up the platoon to a position on the hill, ahead of the Germansand, once away from possible observation, he moved like a June hornet.

  Single file, as usual on such expeditions and almost on a dog trot,the Yanks followed Don and Herbert up through the woods where the muchinterfered with field piece had been destroyed, reached the very spotwhere Gill had been captured, skirted the thicketed edge once again andthen dropped to the ground. And this time the waiting was brief.

  “Hands up, Dutch!” ordered Don, as the tall officer came abreast ofhim, and as the Yanks on either side of the way, with leveled gunsleaped to their feet the enemy made no resistance.

  Coming to make a capture, they were themselves taken prisoners by thevery men they meant to surprise.