Over There with the Canadians at Vimy Ridge. Ralphson George Harvey
excursion were to be, for the night had fallen heavy and it was difficult for those in the group to recognize identities in one another's dimly silhouetted forms. The last information handed to them was almost enough to cause Private Ellis to do something desperate. As a substitute for the impulse he did the thing that had been uppermost in his mind most of the time since he left the listening post out in No Man's Land.
"Lieutenant," he said; "may I offer a suggestion which, it seems to me, would be of service to us right now?"
"Certainly, Ellis," the officer responded encouragingly. "What is it?"
"It seems to me that that pit that was increased to the size of a small volcano crater since Lieut. Tourtelle and I left it could be used with almost perfect safety now," the boy said eagerly. "The boches won't be expecting anybody to use it now. They, no doubt, think they've settled the question of its usefulness for all time to come. Now, if you'd send a couple of machine guns out there with some men to operate them, we could report back at that point to them and they could do quick execution. After they'd done their work, they could run back to our front line and the boches 'u'd have a merry time dropping some more minnies into an empty bowl."
Lieut. Osborne was quick to see the value of the suggestion.
"That's a good idea, Ellis," he said in tone of hearty approval, "and I'm going to do that very thing. Lieut. Tourtelle, see that these men are supplied with pistols, grenades and trench knives, or persuasion sticks, as they prefer, while I get the machine gunners."
CHAPTER III
IN NO MAN'S LAND
Private Ellis felt fully compensated for the treatment he had received from the second lieutenant by the recognition and adoption of his suggestion to utilize the "minnenwerfered listening pit" for the purpose for which it was originally intended. Fully an hour had elapsed since this pit had been converted into a miniature crater, and not another explosion had taken place in the vicinity. It seemed, indeed, that he had not erred in his surmise that the enemy had checked up the results of their firing and concluded that any more shells dropped at this point would be a waste of ammunition.
But Irving was not without misgiving as the party started out through the communication trench for their patrolling and machine gun battery headquarters out in No Man's Land. The fact that Lieut. Tourtelle had been put in command of this expedition dampened his spirits and caused him to fear disaster. He fought hard against this apprehension. It had been too dark for him to discern from the "second looie's" countenance how that officer received the adoption of Private Ellis' suggestion, but he was certain it was not accepted with the best of grace. He could well picture in his mind a darkening of the countenance of "the turtle," a clenching of his hands, and a dogged sullenness of demeanor as the ill-natured officer contemplated the favor shown the boy whom he evidently hated for no good reason whatever.
Irving renamed the second lieutenant "the turtle" in a kind of subconscious way. It was not done with malice aforethought. The term just came to his mind, like a flash, and was inspired, no doubt, by the contemptible conduct of the "shave-tail," as flippant military fancy has dubbed the "second looie," and by the play of idea suggested in the spelling of his name.
The communication trench was partly a tunnel. From the front line as far as the barbed-wire entanglements it was just a plain trench, seven or eight feet deep. Then it became a subterranean passage with about two feet of earth overhead, continuing thus until beyond the wire belt, when it opened overhead again. When the patrol reached the spot where the first "minnie" exploded, they found it necessary to proceed with special caution, for the passage was blocked there on both sides of the crater with heaps of earth. However, they managed to pass this place safely, and presently were in the listening pit that had recently been very much increased in capacity with minnenwerfer aid.
A period of waiting and listening followed the arrival at this "crater." Not a word was uttered, not even a whisper. Everybody gave the keenest attention of which his senses were capable to everything that offered stimulation to eye or ear. However, their careful looking and listening was unrewarded with aught save what appeared to be the most unwarlike silence and inactivity in the immediate vicinity. Now and then in the distance could be heard the thunder of heavy cannon or the nasty spit-snap of machine guns.
Conditions appearing to be satisfactory, Lieut. Tourtelle gave the agreed signal, which consisted of placing one hand on the left shoulder of each of the scouts, and the latter climbed up over the sloping embankment at several points in the big cup and crept cautiously out over No Man's Land.
By this time the fog had lifted, and stars were beginning to peep out through rifts in the cloud-swept sky. Added to the muddiness of the ground, the chill of the atmosphere rendered life in this sector exceedingly uncomfortable.
Each member of this patrol went alone out over the rising slope of land that lay between the front line trenches of the Canadians and the common enemy of the Allies. They either crouched low or crawled on all fours. Each scout was assigned to a section of the territory as clearly defined as possible in order that there might be no crossing of paths or mistaking one another for members of a boche patrol.
Irving took a course to the right, advancing with a cautious, low crouch. His instructions were to proceed about 100 yards along a line parallel to the trenches and then advance toward the enemy line to see what he could discover.
He proceeded the distance stipulated southward as nearly as he could estimate over a half-mud and half-sod surface and then found himself close to a thicket of low bushes, the extent of which he knew to be not very great, for he had observed this feature of the terrain in the daylight. He decided that he ought to examine these bushes carefully, but realized that he must not take much time for the investigation, as each member of the patrol had been limited to half an hour in which to gather material for his report.
Private Ellis, therefore, decided to make a detour around the bushes, listening meanwhile for any sound of moving bodies among the leaves and twigs. The detection of such sounds would be ample reason for sweeping the patch with machine gun bullets.
He made almost the entire circuit without detecting the faintest noise that could command the respect of his suspicion, and was about to turn around and creep back toward the enemy lines, when a bunch of "very lights," fired from boche pistols, threw their brilliance over the scene. The unwelcome illumination was prolonged in a manner that Irving had not witnessed before. The lights floated down slowly, being suspended in the air by small parachute arrangements that opened out with the increasing resistance of the air.
But something else startled the boy even more than these lights. Instinctively he remained stock still in the crouching position in which the illumination caught him. But right in front of him, not more than twenty feet away were the figures of two soldiers. They were standing erect and facing each other. One of the faces was turned well toward Private Ellis, who could hardly smother an exclamation of astonishment as he recognized him.
It was Lieut. Tourtelle!
"What in the world does he think he's doing?" Irving questioned to himself. "He doesn't seem to be very anxious to protect himself. He hasn't a pistol, knife or bomb in his hand."
The lights went out, and presently a new cause for wonder came to the ears of the crouching boy.
"Kamerad!"
Could he believe his senses? No, he wouldn't. It came to him very clearly, that utterance, from the spot where Lieut. Tourtelle stood. And yet, this was impossible. It must surely have been the enemy soldier who uttered the word of friendly greeting.
CHAPTER IV
"KAMERAD!"
"That's a piece of boche treachery as sure as I'm a Yank fighting with the Canadians," was Irving's speedy conclusion after witnessing the scene exposed by the lights and hearing the salute which he decided must have come from the enemy scout. "That's the way they work it! They're noted for treachery of that very sort."
"Kamerad!"
The salute was repeated, scarcely above a whisper, but clear enough for Irving to hear it distinctly. And with the utterance of that word another thrill of apprehension, doubt, confusion, electrified the mind and body of the listening scout, who