Fighting in France

"Well, Leon, it looks as if there was going to be a fight around here pretty soon."

"Right you are, Earl. That suits me all right though and from the way the rest of the men are acting it seems to suit them too."

Earl and Leon Platt, two American boys in the army of the French Republic, were seated outside their quarters behind the fighting line. The scene was in Champagne, one of the provinces of France that already had witnessed some of the heaviest fighting of the Big War.

At the outbreak of the great European struggle these twin brothers had been traveling in Europe. Earl was in England with friends and Leon was visiting his aunt and uncle in a suburb just outside of Paris. At the earliest possible moment Leon had enlisted in the French army. Assigned to the aviation corps he had taken part in the great retreat from Belgium to the gates of the French capital. Slightly wounded at Charleroi, he had been in one of the hospitals for a few days.

When his wound had healed he had made his way south, arriving in time to take part in the battle of the Marne which rolled back the tide of German invasion and saved France. Through all these varying experiences and hardships Jacques Dineau, a young Frenchman, had been his inseparable companion. These two boys, for they were nothing more than that, had more than once distinguished themselves for bravery and daring until they had become the favorites of their regiment. Now they were stationed in Champagne, in the trenches, where for weeks and months both sides had been deadlocked, neither able to push the other back.

With the declaration of war Leon's parents had naturally been anxious as to his safety and not hearing from him had instructed Earl to find his missing brother at all hazards. This Earl had endeavored to do and after many kinds of adventures had finally been successful. The lure of further adventure however had attracted him and he too had enlisted. Now all three boys were in the same company of the same regiment.

"Yes, sir," exclaimed Jacques, who spoke English with only the slightest suspicion of an accent, "there will certainly be some real fighting soon. It will seem good after all these months of quiet."

"I shouldn't describe them as especially quiet," laughed Earl grimly.

"I mean," explained Jacques, "that we have been in the trenches all the time. Now we will have a chance to get out of them; perhaps for good."

"If we can break the German lines," suggested Leon.

"We will give them an awful bump anyway," laughed Jacques.

"And we'll lose half our men," added Leon soberly.

"We do not think of that," exclaimed Jacques proudly. "We are assigned to the front line, the post of honor. We will lead the charge and I think we are very lucky."

"The other regiments are jealous of us anyway," said Earl. "When does the attack start?"

"To-morrow morning at nine-fifteen sharp."

"And we'll move into the first line trenches tonight I suppose."

"Exactly."

"That's it," exclaimed Leon. "Pierre Garemont told me not thirty minutes ago that he had just been talking with Captain Le Blanc and that was the information he received."

"I suppose everything is arranged," said Earl.

"You may be sure of that," said Jacques heartily. "Our officers are not the kind to send us into a battle without doing everything that is possible."

"Think of the artillery support we'll have," cried Leon enthusiastically. "I don't see how they can stop us."

"How much will we have?" demanded Earl.

"Our guns will drop four shells every minute in every yard of German trenches. Think of that."

"You mean," exclaimed Earl, "that in every space three feet long a shell will explode every fifteen seconds?"

"I certainly do."

"It seems incredible," muttered Earl. "Why, there'll be nothing left of them."

"That is just what we want," cried Jacques. "When we smash their trenches to pieces then we can drive them out of our country and France will be free once more."

"I suppose our batteries will all have the exact range," said Earl.

"You need not worry about that," smiled Jacques. "The exact location of every German trench is marked to the inch on our officers' maps. What do you think our aviators are for? Don't you know that they take pictures of the enemy's fortifications from their machines and that all the pictures are developed and enlarged? Oh, they'll have the range all right. You'll see."

"Look!" cried Leon suddenly. "Here comes one of our aerial scouts now."

Far away in the eastern sky a tiny speck appeared. It approached rapidly and increased in size as it came nearer. At least four thousand feet above the trenches the great mechanical bird flew and the three young soldiers watched it in silent admiration.

Suddenly a puff of white smoke appeared below the aeroplane.

"The Germans are firing at it," cried Earl.

"And there goes one of their machines up after it," exclaimed Jacques as another speck appeared against the horizon. It was lower than the French machine but rose in great circles with amazing speed until it had reached a point above its enemy. At this point it headed west and sped in pursuit of the French aeroplane.

"One of those new fokkers," remarked Jacques quickly.

"The German machine, you mean?" queried Leon.

"Yes. They are very fast too."

"He'll never come over our line though," said Earl. "He'll turn back soon."

"There goes another of our machines up to help," exclaimed Leon.

From the aviation field in the rear of their quarters came a great clatter and noise. A moment later a big monoplane came into view and rising rapidly higher and higher set out to the aid of its companion.

Meanwhile the first aviator, pursued by the German fokker, had evidently determined to give battle. He dipped suddenly and shot downward at incredible speed. All about him the bombs from the high-angle guns of the enemy were exploding and it did not seem possible that he could escape. The cheering of their comrades in the trenches came faintly to the ears of the three watching boys.

"He'll be hit," cried Leon tensely.

"Wait," cautioned Jacques.

The aeroplane still raced towards the earth. Suddenly it began to rise and up, up, it soared. Higher and higher it went, describing huge circles in its flight. The little white clouds all about told with what zeal its destruction was sought, but still it kept on. Now it had reached a level as high as the giant fokker. Meanwhile the other French machine raced to its aid.

"You'll see the German turn back now," predicted Jacques.

"Why shouldn't he?" demanded Earl. "It's two to one."

"His only hope is to disable the first machine before the other comes up," said Jacques. "Otherwise he'll have to run for it."

"How high do you suppose they are now?" asked Earl.

"Five thousand feet," said Leon. "Is that about right, Jacques?"

"I should think so; just about," replied the young Frenchman.

Almost every soldier in the great camp was standing, gazing skyward at the combat going on among the clouds over their heads. These duels in the air were not infrequent but they never lost their power to thrill. To see two huge mechanical birds each maneuvering for a chance to strike a death blow to its rival was a sight to stir the blood of any man, no matter how often he had seen its duplicate before.

"What did I tell you?" demanded Jacques suddenly.

The fokker turned at the approach of its second enemy and in full retreat made for the German lines. The two French machines did not attempt a pursuit, but after one or two triumphant circles were headed for home. A few moments later they passed directly over the spot where the three young soldiers were seated, on their way to their respective hangars.

"Why didn't they chase that fellow?" exclaimed Leon. "They were two to one and it seems to me they had a great chance to bring him down."

"You must remember this," Jacques reminded him. "He had a good start on them and, if anything, had a faster machine than theirs. Then that scout of ours may have very important news for headquarters as a result of his observations. He probably wants to report as soon as he can."

"That's true," said Leon. "I had almost forgotten this attack to-morrow I got so excited watching the aeroplanes."

"You started to tell what Captain Le Blanc said," Earl reminded his brother. "Go ahead and finish what you heard."

"Well," said Leon, "he said that everything was ready. He even knew the number of German batteries that will be opposed to us; he also knew just what regiments hold the line opposite. He said that along the whole length of our front line steps had been cut in the trenches so that we can climb out easily. The barbed-wire entanglements have had little lanes cut through them every few feet so we can get through without any trouble."

"Whew," whistled Earl. "It looks as if we meant business all right."

"We surely do," agreed Leon. "We're to carry along bridging to form pathways across the German trenches so we can bring up our guns and supplies quickly. All shoes and extra clothes and blankets are to be turned into the quartermaster; every man is to put on clean underclothes so that if he is wounded he won't be infected. You're to have your gas-masks ready and every one will receive one hundred and thirty extra rounds, making two hundred and fifty in all."

"When do we move into the trenches?" asked Jacques.

"Ten o'clock to-night."

"And final inspection is when?"

"One hour before that."

"We'd better get ready," exclaimed Jacques. "It's almost supper-time now and we've got lots to do."

Every man who passed their tent seemed, to be unusually business-like. No one seemed nervous or worried, but perhaps a little more serious than usual. But there was not a man among all those thousands who was not glad that on the morrow he was to come up out of his hole in the ground and meet his enemy face to face. An air of quiet confidence pervaded the camp; the air was full of it and one glance at these grim-visaged warriors of France was enough to convince any observer that they were eager for the battle to come.