Chapter 15

THE TAKING OF THE GERMAN TRENCHES.

That was too much for Josh to stand. He had been at the point of rebellion before, and this was the "last straw that broke the camel's back." He snatched the glasses from the trembling hand of his comrade almost rudely, though perhaps Josh did not mean it that way, only he was fearfully excited.

Of course Rod could see something of what was transpiring, even without the aid of the binoculars, though they were bound to be a great help. He had immediately turned his gaze upon the spot indicated, and discovered that what Hanky Panky called out was true.

A great mass of men clad in the regulation French uniform came rushing forward from the left quarter. Guns were fast starting up here, there, everywhere, to rain a perfect hail of shells on the German line, so as to prevent the defenders from springing forward to meet the new attack.

At the same time those Frenchmen lying concealed in front also sprang to do their part of the work. The air was rent with shouts from thousands of throats, though the tattoo of the guns became so insistent that even this sounded faintly, as rain might on the roof between thunder-claps.

Riveted to the spot with the wonder of the spectacle, which they had never dreamed would fall to their vision, the three boys stood there, unable to speak a single word. Indeed, with all that frightful noise going on speech was next door to folly, and they wisely held their breath.

The Germans had anticipated just such an assault, no doubt, for it was along their flank that they had been so industriously throwing up new entrenchments at the time Rod and his chums first sighted them.

They had not been given sufficient time, however, to get more than half prepared when the mighty blow fell. Those enthusiastic Frenchmen, realizing that they had Von Kluck's army finally on the run, did not mean to lose any of their advantage by unnecessary delay. They could not be held in, even had their officers wished to attempt such a thing. Rod indeed was reminded of the impetuous charge of hounds, once they were released from the leash.

It was all very plain to Rod, who was a boy with a long head. He knew that when the vast German host had advanced so steadily toward Paris, sweeping everything out of their path with such apparent ease, they had certainly brought along with them many great siege guns, with which to batter down the forts defending the city.

Some of these were the famous forty-two centimetre guns which had proved at Liege and Namur that no modern fort could hold out against the enormous weight of metal they were capable of dropping, almost vertically, on the works, from a distance of many miles.

Then when the sudden alteration came about in the plans of Von Kluck, and his army turned aside from Paris so as to save its exposed flank, the one thought in the mind of the general was to save those wonderful guns, without which all his work would be for naught.

It was for this purpose that these desperate rearguard actions were being undertaken by the retreating Germans. Some of the big guns were drawn by traction engines, and their progress even over good roads must necessarily be very slow. To enable them to be transported to the positions already prepared along the Aisne River, looking to a possible retreat, the victorious French had to be kept at bay.

So tens of thousands of Teutons must fall during those bitter days in order that the Krupp guns might be saved to the cause. Manfully they stood up to their task. There was not a sign of wavering as they met the furious charge of the French, who seemed determined on thrusting the enemy out of their newly made trenches at the point of the bayonet.

Josh, remembering how he had felt a brief time before, presently gave a sigh and reluctantly handed the glasses over to Rod. The latter gladly received them, and without a second's delay proceeded to glue his eyes to the smaller end.

It was like a living picture of other battles that Rod remembered seeing, done in colors; but the realization that this was the _real_ thing he now gazed on so entranced thrilled him again and again.

Backed by every gun that could be brought to bear upon the German front, the living stream of blue and red-clad French soldiers, men of the line, zouaves, chasseurs and all, plunged madly along. Little they recked that many fell by the way under the storm of missiles that belched from the hostile trenches; the lines closed over the gaps almost mechanically, and only the figures that dotted the field after their passage told of the terrible price with which the action was accompanied.

Now they were close up to the trenches, and some even leaping over the redoubt, to grapple hand to hand with those who so desperately defended it.

Brave though they were, the French had been so decimated in their mad rush that it seemed as though there could not be enough of them left to overcome the resistance of the defenders of the works.

It was while Rod was filled with this sense of anxiety that he noticed something calculated to arouse new hope; for somehow he found himself in sympathy with the French soldiers, perhaps because they had been the under dog in the other war, when their fair country was overrun by Bismarck's armies.

The wise French commander-in-chief, possibly General Joffre himself, had seen to it that reserves were on hand to take up the fight after the first line had hewn a way into the hostile trenches. Yes, there they came along like a serried mass, or the waters bursting from a vast reservoir after the dam has been broken.

He saw the living wave strike the first embankment and pass over. He knew what terrible work must be going on beyond that thrown-up earth, for in bayonet work the French have ever been without a rival. He pitied the Germans who were trying to hold the first line of trenches so valiantly, for they would mostly be either killed, wounded, or taken prisoner.

The French guns still roared unceasingly, though that part of the great Marne battle was already as good as won. Now their exploding missiles were being hurled further on, so as to add to the perplexities of the hurriedly retreating Germans, making for the next line of trenches, which in turn would doubtless be just as stubbornly defended.

Josh it was now who used the glasses. As a rule Josh had always been reckoned a generous fellow, sharing alike with his friends; but to-day a spirit of greed possessed him. There was Hanky Panky, who really shrank from such scenes as a battle--why bother paying any attention to him when there was only a single pair of binoculars to go around?

Indeed, Hanky Panky made no further claim on the precious glasses; evidently he had seen enough and more than enough as it was, to satisfy his ambition. He was staring toward those figures dotting the new field, and his lips kept moving as though he might be uttering words of commiseration, though of course what he said could not be heard above the universal clamor that continued with unabated vigor.

Gradually, though, the racket began to slacken, as though word had gone forth that the pursuit of the retiring foe must be temporarily abandoned. Victory had perched on the banner of the defenders of the soil; the lilies of France had swept proudly over the trenches of the foe; still further back from the imperiled capital had the host of Von Kluck been pushed, but all gained at a terrible cost.

So the guns began to cease firing. New positions must now be taken up so as to continue the good work. Everywhere the Germans would be pressed back and back until possibly the ardent French believed they would be forced to retreat to the Rhine.

And now new features began to appear upon the field that had so lately been the scene of a fearful engagement. Batches of dejected looking prisoners were being convoyed to the rear, stout-looking young fellows as a rule; for in the early months of the great war the German army consisted of the pick of the whole empire, every soldier being an almost perfect specimen of physical manhood. Later on, when havoc had been made in their ranks by continuous engagements, younger and older reserves would begin to make their appearance to fill the gaps.

Then again did the French Red Cross attendants with their handy stretchers begin to reap the harvest of the battle. Of Germans there were none, for since their side had been compelled to retreat so hastily most of their hospital corps had accompanied them, leaving to the victors the double task of caring for the wounded of both armies.

When Rod, again with the glasses, saw how the French attendants did not discriminate in favor of their own men, but took them just as they came, a German even before a Frenchman, he realized the spirit of brotherly love that really exists between the common people of all countries, even though by force of circumstances they may be compelled to face each other in deadly carnage for the faults of politicians or kings.

Well, it was all over now, but the binding up of wounds and the sad burial of the many who had fallen. The invaders had been pushed still further back, and their hopes of taking Paris received an apparently fatal blow.

"Josh, you can never again say that you haven't seen a real battle," remarked Rod, as they made their way back toward the shelter where the almost exhausted surgeon, aided by his assistants, would now have to start in afresh with the incoming of another batch of cases needing immediate attention.

"I'm satisfied," replied Josh in a suppressed manner; "and between us both, Rod, I want to own up that I hope I'll never have another chance to look on such a terrible sight; though remember, I wouldn't have missed it for a whole lot."