The Brighton Boys in the Argonne Forest
Page 8
CHAPTER VII
A GOOD BEGINNING
A SUDDEN quiet, after much complaining, settled upon the occupants ofthe transportation _camion_; Don Richards’ quick, sharp order had beenheard and the driver was seen to back away with his arms in air. Thenthe chap with the red cross on his sleeve was heard again:
“Hey, some of you fellows in there, tumble out; will you? Bring a rope!Here’s a German!”
A sapper and one of the cooks responded at once; the latter was a bigman and he came ahead, evidently wanting to keep the other back. Donheard the cook say: “I’ll be enough; you needn’t butt in.” But thesapper, a wiry little fellow, edged along just the same and he wasquite sober. So was the cook, who spoke quickly:
“What’s the trouble? What’d he do?”
There was something in the twang, or in the tone of this; somethingquite intangible, that caught Don’s quick ear, even above theexcitement of the occasion. He had heard this man talk a little beforein typical American, to be sure; yet it seemed to be not whollynatural. The boy eyed the cook; then addressed the sapper:
“You, little fellow, get a rope off the curtains or in the box maybeand tie this----”
The driver replied to the cook’s query:
“I ain’t done nothin’! This feller’s a German an’ workin’ fer theHeinies; he just told me so. Git him, not me! I’m American all over, Iam, and I kin prove it!”
“Headquarters will make you prove it. Keep your hands up.”
“That ain’t no way to treat a fightin’ man!” said the cook angrily.“You put up yer gun an’ we’ll take care o’ this feller. He’s reg’lar,all right; I know him.”
Don kept his eye on the speaker, but made him no reply. Again he spoketo the sapper:
“Come on, you! Don’t stand there like a wooden man! Get a piece ofrope, I said!”
“Don’t you pay no attention to him, Shorty! He ain’t nobody we got tomind. Put up yer gun, feller, or I’ll make you put it up!” The cook’shand went back to his pocket. Don didn’t wait for him to draw hisweapon, which he knew he was going to do; the boy, as once before on asomewhat similar occasion, dropped the muzzle of his automatic a littleand fired. The cook twisted about in a rather comical fashion andflopped on his hands and one knee, quite as though John Barleycorn hadseized and thrown him. The others in the _camion_ had come tumbling outfrom the front and rear of the car and were pushing forward.
“Take his gun, one of you!” Don ordered sharply. “Now then, pick him upand get him inside and and see how badly he’s hurt. Bandages in the carsomewhere. Two of you watch this guy till Shorty ties him.”
“What’s this all about, bo?” questioned a big sapper.
Don turned back his coat lapel and exposed an M. P. badge and thatsufficed to compel obedience to his orders. The big fellow and twoothers took the cook in charge and at Don’s directions started tosearch him, which immediately brought about a struggle. This proved thekey to the situation; the sappers took from the cook’s possession someletters that were written in German and postmarked from a German townand on the driver they found some evident orders, also in German.
At once the sentiment, rather lukewarm at first in any sense, turnedagainst the two apparent traitors within the Army.
“Let’s get a line of some kind and string these two skunks up by theneck to the first tree we can find!” shouted the big sapper. “Eh?Fellers, who’re with me?”
There was a unanimous, loud agreement to this from the sappers and theother cook; they surrounded the prisoners threateningly, one fellowreaching over and with the flat of his hand striking the driver in theface.
Don, a little frightened at the turn of affairs, still saw his dutyclearly. With drawn pistol he forced his way into the center of thegroup, standing before the cowering cook and hastily addressing theloyal sappers.
“Men, this won’t do. Of course, we’re all patriotically down on spiesand traitors, but it’s for headquarters to attend to these ducks;they’ll fix them good and proper, never fear! Don’t let it be said ofus that we are no better than the Huns in acting the brute. A firingsquad is more humane and more certain than a rope and, what’s more,it’s legal. We have no right to mistreat these polecats; only to arrestthem and shoot if they get gay.”
This little speech had the desired effect; the clamorous sapperscooled down and stood listening to and nodding at Don. They saw thesense of his remarks and their sentiment in common changed quickly,finding expression in such phrases as:
“Right-o, bo! We ain’t diggin’ for no trouble.”
“Sure we ain’t, ner in love with no little old guard house. Me fer theroad an’ the outdoors; eh, Willies?”
“That’s us, Pete!”
“Well, you fellows hold these Huns until I back your car out of theditch; then two of you can go back with me and these spies, and therest can camp here until we return, or go on in the next lorry up, asyou choose.”
Thus the good _camion_, doing the duty of a Black Maria, retracedits tracks to general headquarters. Here Colonel Walton had come toconfer with his superior and what he and the General Assistant Chiefof Staff at the head of Enemy Intelligence and Information had to sayafter hearing the lad’s story and questioning his prisoners would haveconsiderably swelled the head of anyone less modest. They boy, thoughhe could not but feel somewhat cast down that his efforts had led twomen to pay the supreme penalty, was inclined to treat the matter withmore levity than it deserved, for there had been, on thinking it over,several rather ludicrous circumstances concerning his duplicity, thoughnot once had he directly lied, nor played unfair. It seemed, indeed,all quite too simple and Don wondered if his next case would prove aseasy. He was to find, later, that it was anything but that.
The general and the colonel conferred; then the latter officer againbeckoned Don.
“My boy, it’s too bad that you are so young. But this war is fillingmany youthful heads with very adult knowledge; making men of many mereboys. Despite your youth we’ve got to reward your immediate ability.The general has ordered your promotion and his recommendation for acommission as second lieutenant of infantry will go through at once. Itwill be kept here on file and you may assume the rank and the shoulderstraps now. Well, go to it again, young man, and good luck.”
Once more the staunch lorry followed the road toward the front, guidednow by a new and undoubtedly loyal driver. Don saw to it that thebrandy that had been smuggled beneath the seat was all thrown out, thebottles smashed. The four sappers and the other cook were again takenaboard and on the car went, with few stops. Camp for the night was madein a deserted and shell-torn old house within sound of the occasionalfiring and bursting of heavier caliber shells. Early the next morning,about two hours after the start at daylight, Lieutenant Richards andhis companions crossed a bridge over the Aire River, reached the top ofa long hill and were suddenly almost within range of the German machineguns at the edge of the Argonne Forest.
“You fellows go on to your destinations,” Don said. “I stop here; thebunch I’m hunting are in there fighting now.”
As Don approached the woods habit was strong within him and hewanted an ambulance with which he could aid in helping the seriouslywounded that seemed to be everywhere. But the stretcher men, the_brancardiers_, were on the job and the boy had now no business to takea hand. Guided by the plop, plop of rifles and the more rapid staccatoof machine guns he ran on into the dense woods, from out of which allalong its edge wounded men were staggering, crawling or being carriedand some few were going in; messengers also from the division C. andC., liaison men with information tending to hold the units together, Y.M. C. A. and K. of C. workers, relying on the success of the Americansand at once eager to advance their depots, even some Salvation Armylassies, two of whom Don saw ministering to the wounded, but beinggently checked from further dangerous advance by the Military Police.
Don had made several inquiries of the M. P.’s and of less seriouslywounded soldiers; he knew he was on the right track, b
ut knew nothow he would find Captain Lowden. Under the stress of immediatecircumstances the officer would hardly have time to talk with him now,but the boy could stand by and wait; he could even take some part alongwith the soldiers, and at this his heart leaped. With an instinct bornof knowing well how to use a gun and how to play at Indian fighting, hewould welcome a chance to join this sort of thing.
Immediately ahead of Don, dodging along through the trees, was anotherfellow, probably bent on a similar errand, but evidently in no greathurry; rather was he looking about him sharply as he advanced, asthough fearing to run into the enemy. As the two clambered togetherover a pile of rocks and through a thicket of scrub trees the boyintroduced himself, noting also that the other was a liaison officer,a sergeant. He was not inclined to talk; did not give his name, butseemed to want to turn aside.
There was sudden shooting just ahead of them; some yells and loudvoices in unison. The sergeant stopped and Don, facing him by chance,looked him over, the former saying:
“They’re at it right ahead. I guess the Heinies are all through thiswood and what one bunch of our men doesn’t find, another will.” Thenthe boy noted that his _vis-à-vis_ was short, heavy-set, with featuresdecidedly Italian, though with gray eyes, and in one of his eyes therewas undoubtedly a cast. A small black mustache with a tendency to anupward curl at the outer ends completed Don’s recognition from thedescription the treacherous driver had given him. And yet he couldnot be sure this was the man. In what way could the boy bring about apositive identification?
A bunch of men came pushing through the woods, in front several Germanprisoners with arms held up from outward elbows, behind them twokhaki-clad privates, with rifles ready, conducting the prisoners tothe rear. It was a most interesting sight and Don was all attention;when he turned again the liaison sergeant was gone. The boy hastenedforward, the sound of shooting was on all sides of him now, even almostbehind him, though a good way off. He must be very close to where themost advanced American line was contesting with the Huns for the welldefended forest.
The way seemed a little more open to the left; Don went that way. Along, level stretch more devoid of branches permitted him to see aheadand fifty yards away the liaison sergeant and an officer were talking.The short fellow was looking all about him; at the same time his righthand came slowly behind him and under his coat. Then he turned his headand saw Don. Instantly the man brought the hand out again, pointed asthough asking directions and disappeared among the trees. Don, hisautomatic in hand, was running forward and in an instant he had comeface to face with Lieutenant Herbert Whitcomb.