CHAPTER XIX
RETALIATION
“LIEUTENANT, I ain’t complainin’, I ain’t kickin’ an’ I don’t want todisobey no orders, but please let me go out an’ round up them polecatson the hill, that killed my buddy. I knows just where they’re at an’ Ican do it. Please, sir, I want t’ go.”
So begged the hunter and scout Gill, the big tears rolling down hischeeks, though his features were grim with determination. Beyond theunutterable love for his dead friend and comrade, only revenge stirredhim; the desire to get the very ones who had caused Jennings’ death wasnow his one purpose in life.
But Herbert shook his head. “No, Gill, old chap, if only for your owngood; they’d get you, too. And we can’t spare you now. They are makingready to hit us hard and we’ve got to fight, man; hold ’em off. Thereare no more of them than before, but they’ve got a field piece outthere on the hill and shells probably. They’ll hammer us a bit andthen rush us.”
It proved to be as Herbert foresaw; these tactics would be mosteffective and the Huns could not tolerate a nested enemy able to domuch damage upon their immediate flank. Directed now by a gray-hairedveteran just arrived on the scene, there was a precision of actionthat augured badly for the Yank squad. The first shell came over afew minutes after the raking machine-gun-fire that had killed the bigmountaineer and the shot struck well up among the spruces, splinteringa tree, throwing bits of wood and limbs down upon the men, theconcussion throwing several of them to the ground. Then Herbert orderedall within the two stone shelters, except one who must risk going onwatch, and he elected himself for this task, though some of the othersstrongly objected. The lieutenant crouched down close to the rocks andtwo of the boys reared some large stones about him as a shield; thenthe tired and hungry squad awaited results. And these results were alittle beyond their most pessimistic estimates, if even one of theremaining ten could have taken anything but an optimistic view of thesituation.
The second shell also landed among the spruces, but far back; thethird, fourth and fifth struck outside of the stone breastwork and onewas a “dud.” Then came the sixth, which squarely hit the side of onestone shelter, making the rock splinters fly and the explosion seemedas though it would tear down the heavy walls. Though the watcher wasseveral yards away and protected in part, he was terribly affected bythe concussion and his first thought was the fear of shell shock ifthis sort of thing was to continue. But what could the squad do, otherthan remain here, even though it meant annihilation or insanity?
Don Richards also, from nearest the doorway of the smallest shelter,saw clearly, as all of the squad must have seen, the inevitable; withhim to determine was to act.
“That gun has got to be stopped! Two of us can do it. Who?”
“Me, me! Take me!” Gill held out his arms like a child begging a favor.“I wanted him to let me go, but he said we’d all be needed here.”
“So we will, later. They don’t know how many of us there are here andthey won’t rush us yet a bit; we ought to get back before that, if atall. There’s no need of Lieutenant Whitcomb’s knowing; he’s too busywatching to take note of us. Now then, Gill, we’ll slide as soon as thenext shell lands, if it doesn’t get us.”
The next shell didn’t get them; it struck, as most of the othershad done, against the rock wall. With about one-half minute betweeneach shot there was time and to spare for a get-away. Out under theshadows the two leaped, Don leading, and however agile the slim youngmountaineer was, he was no quicker on his feet than the school athlete.
But long training in the woods and then the special course in fightingmethods in the camps had made of the mountaineer an expert that notyro, nor even few so drilled could hope to equal. Conscious of this,Don motioned that Gill now take the lead.
“Soft, still; go easy like,” Gill cautioned. “Big game ahead! Theykilled my buddy and we’ve got to git ’em. Don’t break no sticks nor jarno high bushes.”
On through the dense undergrowth the two went, doing that which Donaldhad deemed impossible: making haste and going cautiously at the sametime. The boy, an apt pupil, following almost in the footsteps of hiscomrade, doing whatever Gill did, avoiding whatever he dodged. Then itoccurred to Don that he was not sure of the ground; rather uncertainof the direction they must take. Could he trust the woodsman? Did Gillknow?
Suddenly the scout stopped, crouched, gestured for Don also to getdown. Thus they remained, silent, motionless for a full half minute,hearing plainly someone beyond pushing through the thicket, the soundcoming nearer. Gill was moving his head about in the effort to seethrough and beyond the bushes; then he held up one finger and finallypointed to himself, motioning Don to come on slowly, which Don did;fearing to spoil his comrade’s plan, then only to witness in part thesubsequent tragedy. But as little as he saw of it, for one fleetingsecond the question assailed him: was he to go on with this task alone?He felt that he could go on with it, for his automatic was in his handand he knew well how to use that weapon. Then he saw Gill’s bayonetedrifle lifted high; he saw it strike forward and down; he heard agasping exclamation and the scout, turning once to glance back amongthe bushes and wiping his bayonet on a tuft of grass, rejoined thewondering boy.
“He near got me, acrosst the peepers; his blade was longer than mine,”Gill remarked, in a whisper. “Scout, too, lookin’ for a way to get tous from this side. Come on!”
Again Don followed. They made even more rapid headway than at first,veering continually to the right until the boy was almost convincedthat they had completed a circle. Finally, straight ahead, theydescribed a more open woodland on ground sloping away. This theyclosely scanned from a screened position within the underbrush.
“See ’em, eh?” Gill made remark, grinning fiendishly. And Don, craninghis neck above the friendly branches, had a full view of half a dozenHuns, rapidly operating a long-barreled field piece under the expertdirection of an under officer. The Germans were not a hundred pacesdistant and chance favored the two Americans for there were but fewtrees between them and the cannoneers.
“Now, then, buddy, lay low and watch your uncle! If they come a huntin’up here, an’ they won’t, you can wish ’em well with your gun andautomatic.” Gill openly took command in this sort of thing, as it wasright that he should. It was surely his game, even if partly Don’sidea, and the young officer was not arrogant. He knew he was no matchfor the other with a rifle and that they might need every cartridgethey had in close work before their task was completed, if completed itcould be.
The Huns were about to fire their long weapon; the officer stooped tosight it. As his hands loosened upon the adjusting mechanism and heslumped to the earth, the others glanced quickly around to see wherethe bullet came from that had killed him. One big, fat Hun raised hisarm to point in almost the exact direction where Don and Gill knelt;another also had his eyes turned upon the spot where the Americanscrouched. Then the fat fellow pitched headlong and the man with himleaped back to a machine gun; he had seen a movement, the flash offlame from Gill’s weapon, or detected the gaseous drift from smokelesspowder. But before the death-dealing weapon could be brought intoaction, the gunner also tumbled over, grasping at his side, strugglinga little, then lying inert, as were the other two. Two of the remaininggunners flung themselves flat on the ground; the other leaped towardthe machine gun, but fell between the legs of the tripod, upsetting theweapon in his struggles before he, too, lay still.
“Reckoned I’d make ’em sorry they killed old Jen,” Gill said. “Nowthen, buddy, let’s go down an’ fix them other two.”
But seeing that this would be a foolish attempt, Don now took command.
“No. You stay here, Gill, and pick off any others that come up and tryto use that gun, which they will and soon. I’ll go back to the rocks.In about ten or twenty minutes you come back, too. If you get some moreof them they’ll likely let the gun alone for a bit and then try togrenade us. If they get to working the gun again, then----Listen, Gill;listen! The shooting all along the line is get
ting awfully near. Itcan’t be half a mile away. They’re coming fast. I’ll get back now.”
There was little trouble in retracing his steps and creeping underthe spruces. Don found the squad just as he had left it, except thatanother man was missing. Gerhardt had gone a little out of his head;had become quarrelsome and abusive, mumbling that he was hungry, thatthere were apples and pears down in the woods and that, Germans or noGermans, he was going after them. Before the others of the squad couldlay hold to stop him he had leaped over the stone barrier and actuallyuntouched by a veritable hail of bullets had gone off on a wabblingrun. And that was the last any of them had ever seen of Gerhardt; hisfate was never known. Probably he got into the German lines, waskilled because dangerously insane and his unmarked grave would tell notales.
Herbert, still on watch and looking terribly pale and haggard, had notknown of the expedition of Don and Gill. When young Judson crawled outand insisted on taking the lieutenant’s place on watch and Herbert hadalmost reluctantly crept back to the shelter, he remarked that the Hunshells had ceased being fired. Then Don informed him of what Gill haddone.
“That has saved our lives, Don! They were getting our exact range to aT. We never could have survived that shell fire. And Gill is still outthere?”
“If he gets back, Herb, that fellow will deserve all the honors thatmay be put upon him. He’s coming back in twenty minutes.”
“Listen! Was that a bugle, men?”
“It might have been; off a long way.”
“If it was, it was Yank.”
“The shooting is nearer all the time.”
“Slow, but mebbe sure, Lieutenant.”
“I am sure it is sure. They’ll get here, Farnham.”
“And find us sitting up and waiting for a square meal.”
The Brighton Boys in the Argonne Forest Page 20
