CHAPTER XIV

DETAILED TO SCOUTING DUTY

The joy of that meeting, even under such grim circumstances, can be better imagined than described. To all it seemed unbelievable that they should have been spared to fraternize once more. The tears raced frankly down Ignace's smoke-blackened face as he crooned over Jimmy in Polish. He could find no English in which to express his utter happiness at seeing his best beloved Brother safe and sound. By common consent the quartet sought a dugout for a few minutes' talk. They were wild to compare notes.

"Take that handkerchief from your face," Jimmy commanded of Schnitzel. "Where's your first-aid packet?"

"Gone. Used it on one of my men. It didn't do him much good. He went West in my arms. This beauty spot on my cheek is nothing much."

Schnitzel's joy at seeing his friends vanished from his face, leaving it doubly somber.

"I've only one whole man in my squad," he said. "Curse the Boches!"

"Amen!" agreed Roger savagely. "They lost me two good men. They certainly soaked it to the fire trench."

"We went 'em one better," exulted Schnitzel. "Their artillery isn't in it with ours. It's a wonder they didn't slam their own fire trench. Some of those shells were aimed by Boche tailors, I guess. They certainly went wild. But, oh, Boy! What our batteries did to their trench was beautiful! Wish we'd gone over the top. We could have taken their first trench easy as wink."

"That's what I thought," put in Roger. "I expected every minute to get the order to go after 'em."

"We're too green yet, I suppose, for that," was Jimmy's opinion. "This stretch in the trenches is really our practice turn. Next time in, maybe, we'll get a chance to leg it across No Man's Land."

"That's what the Boches had up their sleeve," declared Schnitzel. "They've been on pins to find out our strength and all that. They haven't got much of a line on the Sammies yet. They'll know more about us when we get through with 'em, those that are left alive."

"So think I. By my squad have I the one man see get the head shoot off. Now will I soon the five Boche kill. So is it to pay the head this poor man. This remember I when go over top. I will it do, I no get the croak firs'," vowed Ignace vengefully.

"A Polish vendetta." Schnitzel smiled faintly. "A five to one proposition like that suits me, though. I'll rid the earth of as many Fritzies as I can. If ever I get one where I want him, the Kamerad business won't go down with me. They say the dogs whine like anything for mercy in a bayonet charge. Cold steel gives 'em the Willies."

Having won safely through their first trial by fire, the Khaki Boys were full of rancor against the enemy. The horrible slaughter of their comrades had given Hate fresh impetus.

Bob presently returned, his face neatly plastered. Another joyful reunion took place between himself, Ignace and Schnitzel.

"Go and get your face fixed, Schnitz," he advised when the first effusion of greeting was over. "The first-aid fellows have their own hands full, but they'll do you up quick if you can get hold of one."

"I'm going to feed first," replied Schnitzel. "I didn't know I was hungry until I saw you guys. Seeing you all to the good brought back my appetite."

"I'm hungry, too. It's a queer game, isn't it? How a fellow can see his comrades go West by the shell road and then feel like eating is a puzzle to me," mused Roger.

"We're beginning to get used to the trenches," was Schnitzel's grim opinion. "A few more scraps like this and nothing will faze us. If we expect to be any good as fighters we've got to eat, no matter what happens."

A little later the five bunkies found breakfast very palatable, even after the horrors they had recently witnessed. The trench now fairly clear of wounded and dead men, the survivors sat along the fire step and hungrily devoured their stew and hot coffee.

After breakfast, sleep became the order of things, except for those detailed to various trench labors, particularly that of completely restoring the parapet. Men engaged in this task were relieved from time to time by a fresh detail, thus enabling all to get a few hours' rest. Except for occasional Boche shrapnel shells aimed principally at the communication trenches, all remained serene.

A communication trench is not easy to hit, as it makes use of everything available for cover. It is cut through the ruins of barns or houses and seeks in every possible way to conceal itself from enemy observation. As it must run indirectly at right angles to the fire trench and thus toward the German, its zig-zag, tortuous windings are necessary to keep it from being enfiladed by the enemy guns. When it reaches a spot bare of bushes, ruins or similar protection, it makes a quick turn to the right, then to the left, to the left once more, forming a partial square, which prevents the preceding bit of trench from being enfiladed.

It is generally about five feet deep and the earth taken from it is piled up on each side, forming mounds. Stakes are driven into it to a height of about two feet above its open top on each side, and between these stakes expanded metal is stretched to keep the piled-up earth in place.

Along the dirt walls on each side are rows of telephone wires. These belong principally to the artillery batteries. Failing to get a direct whack at a communication trench, the Germans are fond of shelling "at it" nevertheless. In consequence, their shrapnel does much damage to the top and sides of it. After a bombardment it keeps both engineers and sappers (wiring men) busy putting it in order again. Often the wires become so tangled that the various artillery signalers have great difficulty in locating their own.

In going to an advanced first-aid dugout to have their slight wounds dressed, Schnitzel and Bob had traveled back a little way through one of these trenches. By daylight it was teeming with activity. They passed sappers, engineers and various worried-looking persons, all of whom were busy putting the place to rights after the attack of the morning.

Bob, in particular, was so much impressed by what he had seen that, before going to sleep after breakfast, he wrote down a detailed description of the communication trench as it appeared to him. Proudly exhibiting it to Roger, he met with a severe shock.

"You'd better tear that up quick," was Roger's stern advice. "You mustn't carry it around with you. Suppose you got the order to go over the top. You'd go and maybe get killed. Then some Boche might get hold of that paper. It's information, you know."

"Oh, I'd tear it up if I knew I was going over," asserted Bob.

"You might forget to do it. Better be on the safe side and can it."

Grumbling a little, Bob reduced the fateful paper to bits.

"I guess I won't gather much data in this dump," was his regretful opinion. "If I write it in billet and try to send it home to Mrs. Blaise, the censor'll probably can it. I'll have to keep it all in my head. If a shell takes my head off, it'll be a great loss to the literary world and a greater one to Bobby."

"When the war's over and you get back to the U. S. you can scribble all you want to and no one will stop you," consoled Jimmy. "Won't that be nice?"

"Yes, when it is and when I do is something to gamble on," jeered Bob. "Another such shindig as this morning and Bobby may be taking a little trip West. I'm going to sleep and forget this pesky old ditch for a while."

Awakened toward the middle of the afternoon to relieve men who had been on duty, the five Brothers were kept busy by various tasks which they were called upon to perform. Quiet still prevailing, evening drew on with no signs of immediate hostilities on the part of the foe. All day they had prudently kept the smoke curtain across their lines in order to conceal their activities from the Americans.

Shortly before dark Jimmy Blaise was set aquiver with excitement when he received information that he had been chosen to make one of a scouting party who were to go out on a scouting expedition into No Man's Land.

The party was to start out at ten o'clock and creep across to the German lines in order to discover whether the Boches had repaired their wire entanglements or had still left lanes in them, preparatory to making a raid that night. They were also instructed to keep their eyes and ears open for anything else that might fall to their lot to see or hear.

Realizing that this scouting duty might be his last, Jimmy sought out his bunkies for a farewell word. Though it was still light, the order "stand to" had gone forth and half of the occupants of the front-line trench ranged along the fire step with bayonets fixed and ready. The other half were still resting in the dugouts.

"I'm going out as a scout," he informed Bob, who was nearest to him.

"You don't say! Take me along!"

"Wish I could. I don't know who all is in the gang. Lieutenant Redmond's in command," Jimmy replied. "I've got to beat it and see the fellows before dark. Now will be my only chance to get a word with 'em. We're to start out at ten. See you again in a few minutes."

So saying, Jimmy went on down the trench to where Ignace, Roger and Schnitzel were usually stationed. He was not sure whether they were on duty or in a dugout. He soon came upon them. They were seated on the fire step not very far apart.

Jimmy's news brought a shadow of deep gloom to Ignace's solemn face.

"I no like," he said sadly. "I would by you go the care you to take. You no come back, I hope shail hit me then pretty quick."

"Cheer up, Iggins. I'll come back. Now shake hands. Not good-bye. Just for luck. I'll see you again to-night all right."

Ignace looked his deep distress as he mournfully shook his Brother's hand. He would not have minded going out on such a hazardous enterprise, but he hated to see Jimmy go.

Roger accepted the news very quietly. There was a wistful look in his blue eyes, however, as his hand met Jimmy's.

"Do be careful, Blazes," he urged. "Don't jump headfirst into something without looking before you jump. You're too blamed venturesome for your own good, you know."

"I'll be a regular slippery sleuth," Jimmy promised as he left Roger to go on to Schnitzel. "Schnitz," he began, "I'm going out on a scouting party. I----"

"So am I," was the amazing response.

"Under Lieutenant Redmond?" was Jimmy's excited query.

"Yep."

"Good work!" Jimmy brightened visibly. "Then we're in the same detail. It certainly suits Blazes."

"That's fine," glowed Schnitzel. "I was going to wait till a little later and tell you fellows. I intended to ask leave to have a word with you and Bob before I went."

Together the two walked to where Roger and Ignace were stationed. Pausing only to shake hands again with both, Jimmy went on to his station, leaving Schnitzel with his other two bunkies.

Shortly afterward Schnitzel came to bid Bob farewell. The latter did not look as cheerful as usual. Jimmy had already informed him that Schnitzel was also to be one of the party. Two bunkies going on a danger hike into No Man's Land made Bob feel rather downcast. He kept his feelings to himself, however.

The same yearning light that had darkened Roger's blue eyes leaped into Bob's black ones as he shook hands with Schnitz and wished him a safe return. He could not help thinking that it would be a miracle if either Schnitz or Jimmy Blazes got back from the detail alive.