CHAPTER X
WITHOUT ORDERS
THE three Yanks who accosted Morgan, the messenger, on his way fromthe surrounded platoon were out doing scout duty for the bunch ofseventeen mentioned at the beginning of the last chapter. When theyheard Morgan’s story they chose one of their number to conduct themessenger to their own camp at the southern foot of the hill on whichthe unexpected meeting had occurred.
Sergeant Grout eagerly listened to what Morgan said; although themessage was not intended for him, he determined to act upon it withoutdelay. The young fellow’s information concerning the lay of the landdecided him to take this course: a bunch of plucky boys, at night andled unerringly, could get through to the surrounded men, taking themammunition, food and water and then the lot of them could come backagainst big odds.
But Grout still hesitated. He was in command and yet a non-commissionedofficer. Would even a lieutenant or a captain dare assume suchresponsibility without orders from higher up?
At this precise moment who should wander in upon them but MajorAnderson, of their own battalion, and Grout instantly put the matter upto him. Anderson was the sort of man that goes in for action; he wasalso utterly devoid of useless self-importance; entirely without thatarrogance too often found, without reason, in the highly trained men ofthe Army.
“You’re in command here, Sergeant,” he said, “and your past deeds aresufficient guarantee for your wisdom and scrapping qualities. I’llleave the matter to you. If you go in, good luck to you, and you’ll dosome good, I know.”
It seems strange, perhaps, to one not accustomed to the conditions thatnaturally influence the fighting man in the midst of battle scenes thata lot of fellows who had been almost continually in action and hadlost half their number in dead and wounded should actually want moreaction, seek further adventure and deadly risks. But such was the casewith the majority of the Americans and such was the case now with theseseventeen Yanks.
Grout put it up to them, which may have been not according to militarycustoms, but they were buddies, one and all; therefore, they shouldact only upon their combined decision. This proved to be a unanimousverdict; there was not a dissenting voice among the lot and forthwiththey prepared for the foray, starting after extra water and food hadbeen obtained, though in what manner is not recorded.
Morgan led the way back, just as he had come out: over the hill to theravine, then up the gully. The advance was single file, the men five orsix feet apart, following each other exactly and as silently as a lotof Indians.
Rapid progress was made and the platoon had, without incident, reachedthe spot where Morgan had shot the sentry, the man’s body still lyingwhere it had fallen.
Just at this spot the leaders, Morgan and Grout, sensed danger ahead.There were unmistakable evidences of the presence of a camp: the slightand almost indefinable sounds that must come from a large number ofmen, even though many are sleeping, for a combined loud breathingpulsates on the night air not unlike the ticking of a clock.
The Yanks halted; stood waiting, listening, hardly expecting anythingto occur and when it did two of them never knew it. The dense forestwas lighted up for yards around and the detonation was heard for miles.Probably some shrewd officer of the enemy surmised that a reliefexpedition would come along in the way of the death-dealing messengerhad gone out and a mine had been laid, with an automatic set-off, nodoubt. The odd thing, however, was that more than half the Yanks hadgone past before the mine was set off and that the two men, who wereliterally blown to bits, had debouched from the path that Morgan hadtaken. It appeared afterward that the messenger had turned aside topass around the body of the sentry, merely pointing it out to Grout,and the act had saved the lives of many of the men, not one other ofwhom was hurt.
The explosion, however, was a signal to the foe. In half a minute therewas a curtain of fire being spread out down the ravine from above andprobably every one in the enemy camp ahead was up and busy with riflesand machine guns. But the trees were thick, the rocks on the hillsidesmade good shelter, there could be no marksmanship in the darkness. As amatter of fact, not until long afterward did the aroused Germans knowwhether they had been shooting at one man or one thousand; indeed, itmight have been a hare that had set off the mine.
Grout was a quick-witted fellow; Morgan, as we have seen, equally so.The advantage for the Americans lay in the darkness and the density ofthe woods. The orders, given more by motions than by words, and thelatter in whispers, were to keep down and get back a little. This done,they climbed the steep side of the ravine and followed its slope justbelow the fringe of bushes on its crest, keeping forward and parallelto the gully. In this way they were out of the zone of fire and theycame out on the level ground above to within fifty yards of thedisturbed Huns, who were still shooting down the ravine.
This was a remarkable piece of work; both as a matter of leadership,and as a streak of pure good luck it was almost unique. That fifteenmen should so elude a watchful foe and get entirely through its linesuntouched, especially after the mine incident had doubly alarmed theHuns, is almost beyond belief.
A little farther on Morgan advanced a hundred yards alone to theentrenched squad, the men of which had begun to think they were doomedto have a sorry time of it on the morrow. Then Grout’s platoon cameforward, were received with silent plaudits and very soon the entirebunch of twenty-two was on the way back to its own lines. And they madeit, but not as easily as had Morgan and the platoon of fourteen who hadsneaked through the German positions.
When they were in the ravine again, which seemed to be a place ofdeath, they suddenly encountered a small number of Huns, evidently outto ascertain the cause of the mine explosion, and as the Yanks wereupon them before they were aware of it, they offered no resistance,but began to fade away. At the moment good fortune was again with theAmericans. A flare had been sent up by the Germans on the hill andGrout saw an opportunity that was not to be lost.
At a sharp order the Yanks leaped forward, spread out, heading off theHuns from retreat back to their own lines and so, without more ado,they surrendered and the daring rescuers and rescued, driving nineprisoners before them, made rapidly for the hill to the south of theravine.
To reach it, they again had to pass through the open space and as theycame into this, beneath the luminous sky, a machine gun hard to theright, possibly set there to intercept them, opened fire.
Pausing not an instant and now without orders, the larger number of theYanks swung about and went for that machine gun, but at the first fireand before they got the Huns who manned the weapon, several of our boyswent down.
With both wounded and prisoners the little platoon returned and Groutimmediately sent in a report, which brought Major Anderson again tovisit the boys back in their old camp, which they had left hardly tenhours before. The officer went with Grout into the shed tent to see thewounded; when they came out the two stood talking of many things.
“You’ll get a commission for this bit of work and you’ll deserve it!Every one of your boys ought to have a D. S. M.!” exclaimed the Major.
“I wish that messenger--Morgan his name is--could have had one,” saidthe sergeant sadly.
“Yes, isn’t it a pity? And after such heroic work. That fellow is thereal stuff. But enemy lead is no respecter of persons. He can’t live.”
“No, but heaven be praised, he doesn’t suffer any,” Grout asserted.“Poor chap; only a kid, too. A pluckier, cooler one never drew breath.I found this paper on him; his name and his home. Wm. T. Morgan;sounds like a fighting name.”
“Yes, I suspect the T stands for Tecumseh. Named after old GeneralSherman, I judge.”
“Likely. And I found this on him, too; pinned on his shirt. You’ll takecharge of them, Major, and send them to headquarters.”
The Major held his bull’s-eye to shine on the thing that dropped intohis hand; it was a bronze bar without much ornament; across it ran someletters and figures.
ALMA MATER BRIGHTON ACADEMY CLASS OF 1919
The adventures that were encountered by a squad of Yanks under thecommand of Herbert Whitcomb, accompanied by Don Richards, illustratethese facts and portray many of the conditions that the invadingAmericans faced with remarkable intrepidity in the Argonne Forest.
The Brighton Boys in the Argonne Forest Page 11
