The Brighton Boys in the Trenches

by James R. Driscoll

  CHAPTER XV

  WING SHOOTING WITH A RIFLE

  The blessed, the brave, the indispensable Red Cross! Just back of thepit, exposed to the vicious German fire and yet intent only upon theduty of mercy, the panting ambulances were being loaded with theirprecious, their pitiful human freight soon to be billeted in warm,clean, homey hospitals far in the rear where German shells, even fromthe biggest guns, might seldom reach. And laboriously through the mudthe springy cars went away, one at a time.

  "Herb, I'd like to have been with ye to help stop those devils, but Icouldn't. And if ye can't, how can ye? Now I mebbe never can. It's afine, good, hard, tryin' old world, it is, Herb. As me old granddad inIreland used to say: 'Whurrah, me lad, but life's mainly disappointin'.'I know what they'll do to me, me boy. They'll leave me go round as if Iwas playin' hop scotch as long as I live, but faith, no longer. Meleg'll have to come off, Herb; I know it will. But what of it? It's allin the game."

  "I don't believe it, Roy, old man; I think not," the corporal madeanswer, sick at heart.

  "Come see me at the hospital, Corporal," groaned Smith, rolling hiseyes, that told of suffering, toward his chief. "That is, if I'm stillsticking round there when you can get relieved. If I'm still aboveground I'll look for you."

  "Say, Corporal, I want to thank you for being good to me; always jollyand kind, even when I felt like grumbling. Will you do me a big favor?You see I can't write with this arm; never can, I guess. Won't you justdrop a line to dad and mother? You have my home address and it wouldcome better from you than anybody else; and you might say that I didn'trun and hide when the Boches were coming. I think dad always believed Iwould do that. Will you?" Such was Geddes' request.

  And all Herbert could do was to take their hands and press them, nodrather violently and perhaps get out a very few words like: "Oh, you'llbe all right. See you later." Had he attempted more he would have quitebroken down; and that, he believed, would not have been exactly the partof a soldier.

  They were gone and the boy turned to his chief. "Lieutenant, there'sonly four of us left out of the nine; one dead, three wounded, one atraitor. This is war! But there's something more to be said; it is, howto get back at those devils down yonder? Of course, we're after them,too, but they had no business to start this war."

  "I don't think those poor chaps did start it and I don't believe themost of them would have started it, either, if they'd had any say in thematter. They are mere puppets, even the higher commanders, working in avile system that makes monkeys of them at the behest of their ambitiousand conscienceless rulers, or the one ruler, Kaiser Bill. But as long asthese fellows have made their bed as practical slaves, let them lie init as victims, however the fortunes of war may swing, and we have toteach them a lesson about coming over here too readily; got to get backat them.

  "To-morrow the communicating trench between our pit and the lower trenchwill be completed; that is a less distance across No Man's Land and someof us can join those boys down there in a counter-raid to-morrow night.

  "And, Whitcomb, don't be too down-hearted; I see you are. Those fellowswill mend up and we must expect some to be killed. We lost seven in alland eleven wounded. What is left of you can do very efficient work yet.The Huns are not done sniping and I will ask for some more men to refillyour squad, along with two other squads of our command to take up thelosses. And say, my boy, keep your eyes open for enemy airplanes; it'llbe good flying weather in the morning and I've a notion they'll tryagain to do what the raid failed in. But Susan Nipper will wing 'em ifshe gets a show!"

  It turned out precisely as the lieutenant predicted. The morning dawnedclear and still, like an Indian summer day in the dear old United Statesand the men in the pit and those in the trenches below praised heavenfor smiling upon them and Old Sol for drying up a bit of the bottom oozewhere the trenches were poorly drained. The pit did not suffer so much,being on high and sloping ground where, even had the bottom been leveland not drained, the rain water would have soon seeped away.

  Herbert and Watson went out on the slope to watch for snipers in theearly morning. But no snipers were in evidence and, strangely, theywere not shot at even once; at that time this section could truthfullybe called quiet. Not so?

  Well, considering that one airplane engine makes as much noise and keepsit up longer than the shooting of a machine-gun, and that now no lessthan three airplanes made their appearance low down and came on at atremendous rate, the quiet sector suddenly took on a differentcharacter. And then Susan Nipper commenced to talk out loud and to dothings spitfire fashion.

  At the very first shot, timing the shell fuse long or short, theforemost plane was hit precisely in the center; a long range wing shotwith a single projectile at that. The German taube went to pieces and toearth as though it had been a dragon-fly smashed with a brick-bat, andthere could hardly have been enough of the propeller and engine left totake up with a pitchfork. As for the poor driver and bomber, they passedinto the other world without knowing a thing about it.

  But this was no check to the other machines, for the quality of mindthat makes or permits a man to go aloft at all makes of him no cowardunder any circumstances. On the two came, straight for the side of thehill, at such a furious speed that Corporal Letty had time only for onemore shot at them. Hastily timed, this was a clean miss, the shellbursting high in the air beyond. And the gun squad was making a recordto get in another shell as the machines, one a little above and behindthe other, swept almost over the pit.

  Two of the gun squad were working the Colt rapid-fire gun now, but theydid not seem to swing it fast enough, all their stream of missiles beingwasted.

  Watson, farther down the slope than Whitcomb, now held to his shoulder arifle that was hot with repeated action, and yet he, too, had scored nohits. Though an airplane, if not over three hundred feet in air andflying steadily ought to be scored on, its height makes it look mightysmall and hard to hit, and moving objects are no cinches for a singlebullet. As the disappointed fellow stopped to slip in still anothercartridge clip he heard a yell from Herbert.

  "Lookout, Watson! Dodge!"

  Watson did dodge just in time. He saw a conical-shaped thing descendingtoward him and, a baseball player of skill with an eye forsky-scraper flies, he gauged correctly where that thing was going tohit and he got away from that place. And when the thing did hit and toreup the earth and gravel and stones Watson was glad he had dodged.

  HE FIRED TWICE IN QUICK SUCCESSION.]

  Another was flung down at him, but it went wide, and a third was startedtoward Herbert, who stood, spread-legged, gun to shoulder.

  There is an art in aiming at a moving object that probably estimates itsspeed and direction, the speed of the bullet and allows for all of this.Herbert's skill with his little .22-caliber at objects tossed in airstood him in good stead when at rifle practice in the training camp and,however excited and eager with the necessity of shooting straight, itdid not fail him now.

  He fired twice in quick succession, meaning to hit exactly under thefish-like belly of the machines, directly below where he knew the driversat and the first shot he believed he had missed. He felt pretty sure ofthe other; he even thought he saw the direct result of it in a glare oflight, a shower of jumbled sparks and stars, and then, there was suddenblackness.

  "What in thunder--how'd I get here?" was the corporal's question ofLieutenant Jackson, who stood over his cot, smiling a little. But thatwas not an important matter just then; there were big comments beingsaved for Herbert's return of wits.

  "Great Jupiter, my boy! By jingo! I never saw shooting like that! Noneof us ever did! The next minute they would have played havoc with thingsin here. Letty couldn't get at them and Watson couldn't and not one ofmy men, but _you_--oh, _you_ could beat Doc. Carver! Wonderful!"

  "Say, if you'd make it a little clearer to me I'd know what you'rereferring to," Herb protested. "Let's see; it was--oh, yes; I think Iremember: taubes, weren't they? Where'd they get to?"

  "They got t
o earth, you bet! Can't you recollect? You must have beenworse stunned than I thought. You got 'em both, boy; got 'em both. Hitthe first one so that it went down into the hill above and your secondbullet started something going in the hind machine and it blew up andtossed those two fellows out and it turned turtle. She lies out there,looking more like a dump heap at home than anything else. You were hitby a fragment. You're a dandy!"

  "You are that!" echoed Letty, from the opening. "I'll bet those Bochesdown there will study awhile before they send on any more fliers here!Feel better, Whitcomb?"

  "Pretty much. Head aches. Any bones busted? Guess not. Sore in spots,though. Well, getting out in the air and sunshine would feel better.Want to see what happened," said Herbert, rising from his cot.

  "Wonderful! Wonderful shooting!" repeated the lieutenant.

  "Yes, and four Boches the less!" declared Letty.

  "Is it true? Poor fellows!" said Herbert.

  "Poor nothing! They'd have got my gun if you----"

  "Hadn't murdered them, poor chaps!" put in Herbert. "This business ofkilling makes me sick. But I must get out; they'll be sending others todrop some more bombs."

  "You're a queer chap," said Corporal Letty, and Lieutenant Jackson oncemore reiterated: "Wonderful shooting! Wonderful!"

  But the Germans sent no more airplanes over on that day, nor many a daythereafter; they are brave, but rarely foolhardy. And as they appearedto have lapsed into inactivity for a time, probably seeking somesurprises to spring, it seemed up to the Americans, true to theirreputation for originality, to do some more surprising themselves.

  The day wore on uneventfully. Watson and Herbert were replaced on theslope of No Man's Land by Gardner and Rankin, and the latter once so farforgot himself as to walk uprightly for about ten yards. Whereupon halfa dozen whiz-bangs, or very light shells, from a small rapid-firer, camehis way. Letty saw whence they came, trained Susan on that whiz-bangslinger and it went out of commission, along with three men working it.Rankin, meanwhile, had hunted cover.

  Reinforcements arrived, as asked for. They were Regulars and more thananxious to get into the fighting, the actual work of getting into touchwith the enemy. And, expert with revolvers, they were chosen for thenight's work.

  Herbert went to the lieutenant. "We fellows all want to get into thisthing. We know something about work with pistols; perhaps we are ashandy with them as with rifles. It's a cinch that we can do some good."

  Lieutenant Jackson hesitated. "If we lose any more of you boys, and youin particular, Whitcomb, we won't be as sure of holding off attempts toget at Susan Nipper. But, nevertheless, this once, as it is to be aneffort to demonstrate pistol work almost exclusively, I expect youfellows ought to be included. Sergeant West is to command; CorporalGerry will lead. There will be about forty men and they will start fromthe lower communicating trench at about three o'clock to-night. Each manwill carry two revolvers only, and six more rounds of ammunition and goas light as possible. There will be no barrage, as we want to surprisethem. So be ready."