"You have done well, sirs. President Poincare shall hear of this."
The speaker was General Petain. Before him stood Hal, Chester and Anthony Stubbs. Hal, acting as spokesman, had just concluded an account of their adventures within the enemy lines, a venture from which they had returned successfully and safely only an hour before.
For, after the aeroplane had descended above the French lines and headed for the French positions, the journey had been without important event. True, there had been a brush with one enemy aircraft; but this had been worsted. A second, which had given chase, was distanced with ease and the three friends had returned to the French lines unscathed.
"So!" said General Petain, "you blew up the enemy's ammunition depot, eh? The explosion was felt even here. We knew the foe had suffered some hard blow, but I had no idea that it had been delivered by your hand."
Both lads flushed at the praise of General Petain. Stubbs was pleased.
"Now tell me what else you did, if anything," said the general. "Did you get the information after which you went?"
"We did, sir," returned Hal.
He passed to the general the documents he had taken from the young German aide. General Petain scanned them carefully.
"These will be invaluable to me," he said quietly.
Then Chester told the French commander of the conversation he had overheard in the quarters of the German Crown Prince.
"Now that I have escaped," the lad concluded, "it may be possible, of course, that the German plans will be altered."
"You have done well," said the general again, "and as I have said, your work shall be brought to the personal attention of the President." He turned to Stubbs. "You, sir," he said, "are not a soldier, yet I have to thank you for your part in this mission."
Stubbs blushed like a school boy.
"I didn't do anything deserving of credit, sir," he said. "My young friends here were the directing heads and performed all the dangerous work."
"Nevertheless," returned the general, "you are deserving of praise and if there is anything I can do for you, you have but to ask it."
Stubbs hesitated. There was something he wanted very much but he did not know whether to make the request or not. General Petain saw the little man's indecision, and said with a smile:
"You have something on your mind, sir. Come, out with it. Be sure it will be granted if it lies in my power."
Still Stubbs hesitated. Chester stepped forward, smiling.
"I believe I can tell you what it is, sir," he said.
"Speak," said the general.
"Why, sir," said Chester, "Mr. Stubbs would have your permission to send an account of the great explosion to his newspaper uncensored. He would have the people of the United States know, through his paper, of the severe blow the enemy has suffered."
"H-m-m-m," muttered the general. "The United States will hear of the disaster, of course. Mr. Stubbs, with the other correspondents, will be allowed to file his despatches after the official report has been made."
"But that's the point, sir," said Stubbs, stepping forward. "I would like to have my paper get the news first."
"Oho! I see," exclaimed General Petain. "You want for your paper what youAmericans' call a—a—a—"
"Scoop."
Chester supplied the word.
"Exactly," said Stubbs.
The general considered the matter for a moment. Then he threw wide his arms in a gesture of consent.
"It shall be done," he said.
"Thank you, General," said Stubbs. "Then, with your permission, I will retire to my own quarters to prepare my despatches."
"One minute, Stubbs," said Chester. "You may perhaps remember that until a short time ago you shared quarters with Hal and me. We would like to have you come back."
Stubbs grinned.
"That was before the discovery of the great conspiracy," he said. "By the way, General, may I make so bold as to ask what has been done toward crushing the move?"
"It has been crushed, sir," replied General Petain, quietly. "That shall have to suffice. And, by the way, Mr. Stubbs, I must tell you that if you refer to that matter in your despatches they will be strictly censored."
"I shall not mention the matter, General."
Stubbs bowed and took his departure, first stopping to say to Hal and Chester:
"You'll find me back in our old quarters when you arrive."
"Now, boys," said General Petain, after Stubbs had gone, "you are relieved of duty for the rest of the day. To-morrow morning, however, I shall have need of you; for to-morrow—and I am telling you something few know—we shall launch a new drive, basing our attacks upon the information which you have just now furnished me. Good-bye until to-morrow."
The general walked to the door of the tent with the two boys and waved a hand to them as they turned away.
"Well," said Hal, as they walked along, "we apparently have accomplished something worth while."
"To hear the general talk you would think we had," agreed Chester, "and still we didn't do so much, after all."
"That's what I think."
"By the way," said Chester, "I'm going to hunt up Stubbs' old quarters.Perhaps he hasn't moved his things yet. I'll lend a hand."
"All right," said Hal. "I'll go along without you. I'll probably be taking a nap when you reach our quarters. Don't awaken me. I'm tired."
The lads parted and Hal continued on his way to his quarters.
Stubbs had not yet arrived. Hal sat down on the edge of his cot to remove his shoes. As he did so he thought he heard a sound from behind him. He whirled suddenly and there, a few feet away, his revolver trained right upon Hal's heart, stood Matin, the French soldier who already had tried once to kill him.
"A visitor, I see," said Hal, quietly. "You will pardon me a moment whileI remove my shoes. That is what I started to do and when I start a thingI always like to finish it."
"Take them off if you want to," returned Matin, grinning evilly. "You won't need to put them on again."
"Think not?" said Hal. "You never can tell about those things, Matin."
"Trying to be funny, are you?" returned Matin. "Well, go ahead. You won't lie funny long—not to anyone but me. I'm going to shoot you."
"Don't suppose you would let me draw my own gun first, would you?" asked Hal.
"No. What do you think I am?"
"Just a coward; that's all," said Hal, quietly.
"Coward, am I?" exclaimed Matin, taking a quick step forward.
"Correct," replied Hal. "It's about your size to shoot a man in the back. I have had dealings with your kind before. You're afraid to take an even chance."
"It's not that I'm afraid," said Matin. "It's just that I want to make sure. I failed twice before."
"Then it was you who tried to shoot me in here one night, eh?" asked Hal.
"Yes; and I would have succeeded had it not been for your friend. When I have disposed of you I shall settle with him also."
"I don't think so, Matin."
"You don't? What's to prevent me?"
"Why," said Hal, "when I am through with you, you will be in no condition to settle with anyone. Now, if you will take my advice, you'll put that gun in your pocket and leave this tent."
"Talk pretty big, don't you?" said Matin, with a sneer. "Well, I'll show you!"
He raised his revolver so that the muzzle pointed squarely between Hal's eyes. His finger tightened on the trigger.
"One moment, Matin," said Hal, quietly. "Don't you know that before you can pull the trigger my friend in the doorway will kill you?"
A look of fright and disappointment passed over Matin's face. Slowly he lowered his revolver and turned toward the doorway. It was the moment for which Hal had been waiting.
With a bound he leaped upon Matin and with his left hand seized Matin's right wrist. Matin uttered a snarl of rage.
"Tricked me, did you?" he shouted. "You shall pay for it."
It had been Hal's intention at first simply to wrest the revolver from his opponent's hands and then turn the man over to the officer of the guard.
But Matin's strength was greater than the lad had imagined; also he was wild with rage. With his free hand he struck viciously at Hal, while he kicked with his feet and sought to bury his teeth in Hal's arm.
But Hal held him back.
Vainly, Matin sought to move his right arm around so as to bring the muzzle upon Hal's heart. With a quick move Hal suddenly released his hold upon Matin's pistol wrist and seized the pistol hand. His finger covered Matin's finger on the trigger.
Matin's hand at that moment was extended straight from him. Slowly now, as Hal exerted his utmost pressure, the arm described a semicircle. Now it pointed almost straight forward. Then, as Hal brought more strength into play, the arm curved inward; and directly the revolver pointed squarely at Matin's heart.
The perspiration stood out in great beads on Matin's forehead. He was panting and gasping for breath. Hal was breathing easily, though the manner in which the sinews on his forehead and arms stood out showed to what extent he had extended himself.
When the mouth of the revolver pointed at Matin's heart, Hal said quietly:
"Now, Matin, if you will release your hold on this gun I will let you go free."
Matin's answer was a snarl of rage.
Whether the man went suddenly insane or whether he knew fully what he was about, Hal can not say to this day; but under his own finger, the finger on the trigger tightened. There was a flash, a muffled report and the form of Matin fell limp in the lad's arms. Hal stepped back and Matin slid to the floor. Hal stooped over and laid a hand over the man's heart.
"Dead!" the lad exclaimed, and added: "but not by my hand. He pressed the trigger himself!"
A bugle sounded.
The sleeping French camp sprang suddenly to life. Men, half dressed, sprang from their cots—they had not disrobed entirely the night before—and hurried to their positions, adjusting their clothing as they did so. Regiments formed hurriedly in the darkness that is always more intense just before dawn. Officers shouted and swore; horses whinnied from the distance, indicating that the French cavalry, as well as the infantry was forming.
A second bugle sounded; then many more. More commands from the various officers. Aides rushed hither and yon delivering sharp orders to division commanders. The men stood quietly in line. Came other sharp commands all down the line:
"En avant!"
The troops began to move.
Overhead, screaming French shells from the big guns in the rear flew as they raced for the distant German lines. This was no new sound. For more than twenty-four hours now these big guns had been hurling shells into the German ranks; and the men had become so used to the sounds of their voices that they would have been almost unable to sleep had they become silent.
This bombardment, continuing for more than twenty-four hours as it had, was the opening of the greatest offensive by the French at Verdun—an offensive by which General Petain, the French commander, hoped to drive back the foe that for months had pressed on so hard, and thus to insure the safety of Verdun, "The gateway to France," against the German invader for all time to come.
Each move of this gigantic effort had been thought out well in advance. All contingencies had been provided for and against. The blow was to be struck at the psychological moment, when it would be deemed by the French general staff that it was sure of success.
And now this moment had come.
The information placed in the hands of General Petain days before by Hal and Chester had been the one link in the chain that had been missing. Now the general staff felt sure of the success of this great effort, though there was not a man who had taken part in the preparations who did not know that the victory—if victory there should be—would be won at tremendous cost.
But, with the fate of Verdun in the balance, it had been the opinion of each member of the general staff that now was no time to hesitate.
So, upon this morning in June, just before dawn, the French advanced all along their entire front.
Under the protection of their big guns they would be able to progress for some time; and as they attacked the German first line trenches in a charge, the fire of the big guns would continue, firing overhead at the German second and third line trenches beyond.
And it was in this manner that the advance was made.
The day dawned while the French were still some distance from the German first line trenches; and the German guns, far to the east, and the German defenders in the trenches opened on them with a vengeance. But the French were prepared for this. There had been no thought of a surprise attack in the plans of the general staff. It was known that the Germans would realize what was about to happen when the duel of big guns began more than twenty-four hours before.
Before sun-up the French infantry sprang forward in its first charge. It was thrown back. Immediately a second charge was ordered. This met the same fate as had the first. A third brought no better results.
On the next charge, as the French advanced the Germans left their trenches and sprang forward to meet them. The big German guns became still as the infantry struggled hand to hand.
There issued from the French left at this juncture, heavy bodies of French cavalry. Into the thick of the struggling mass the horsemen charged. This attack had been a surprise. The Germans were cut down in large numbers. As they scrambled back to the protection of their trenches, French troops scrambled over with them. Again the infantry alone was engaged, but this time in the enemy trenches.
Whole squadrons of cavalry were ordered from their horses and also sprang into the German trenches. Reinforcements were hurried up. The Germans also rushed up supports; but they had delayed too long.
The Germans broke and fled for safety to the second line trenches.
Immediately the French turned the field pieces captured with the German trenches upon the fleeing enemy and mowed them down in great numbers. Others of the French troops fell to work consolidating the newly won trenches. The big German guns opened again; but by this time the French were pretty well secured against this arm of fire.
More French reinforcements were rushed up to hold the captured trenches. Batteries of field guns braved the German shell fire and dashed across the open to the captured trenches. Immediately these guns were brought into position, they opened upon the German second line of defense.
From their posts of vantage, mounted upon slight elevations, and from behind trees and other secure places, the great French guns protected the advance of the cavalry and infantry.
Hal and Chester, who had stood close to General Petain during most of this battling, had watched the conflict with the greatest interest.
"Look at them fall!" exclaimed Chester, as through his glasses, he witnessed the last desperate attack of the French.
"It's a terrible sight," agreed Hal, "and yet there will be many more just as terrible before this war is won."
"Indeed there will," agreed Chester.
"Lieutenant Crawford! Lieutenant Paine!"
It was General Petain who spoke.
"My compliments to General Bordeaux, Lieutenant Paine, and tell him that the left of the newly won trenches must be held at all hazzards!"
Hal sprang upon a nearby motorcycle and soon was speeding toward the front.
"Lieutenant Crawford! The same instructions to General Ducal on the right!"
A moment later Chester was speeding forward.
His message delivered, Hal stopped for a moment to gaze about the trenches won at such terrible cost.
There had been no time to bury the dead, or even to have the bodies removed; and the trenches were piled high with French and German dead. In between the rows of corpses, which had hurriedly been pushed to one side, the other troops worked, apparently without thought of their fallen comrades. Red Cross physicians and nurses were working among the wounded, lightening the suffering.
Hal looked at his watch.
"Twelve o'clock!" he muttered. "It seems as if this single battle had been going on for days!"
He made his way slowly back to General Petain.
Chester, his message delivered, also had taken account of the French position on the right. There the fighting had been particularly severe, and the newly won positions presented ghastly spectacles. Chester shuddered:
"And this is war!" he said.
He made his way back to headquarters and rejoined Hal.
"Wonder if we shall try for the second line defenses to-day?" Hal said to his chum.
"I don't know; but I wouldn't be surprised to hear the order at any minute now. Look at the masses of reinforcements being rushed forward. Surely, they are not being sent there just to hold the trenches. No; I believe that to-day General Petain hopes to carry at least the second and third line of trenches on our whole front."
And, as it transpired, Chester was right.
At four o'clock in the afternoon the French had established themselves firmly in the German second line trenches, although at great cost. Dense masses of reinforcements were immediately rushed forward. To Hal and Chester this signified that there was still to be another effort that day.
And at five o'clock in the evening the effort was made.
Under a sun that beat down with terrific force, despite the lateness of the hour, the French infantry again advanced to the attack. Flushed with two victories earlier in the day, they went forward confidently and with eagerness and enthusiasm. Cheers broke out along the whole line as they advanced. Farther back, a band—many bands—played "The Marseillaise."
The German troops, twice driven back before the victorious French, nevertheless stood firm in their trenches. They had learned a dear lesson at the hands of their enemy this day; and while they realized fully that they were getting the worst of the battle, they still stuck bravely to their task.
Terrible as it was, it was an awe-inspiring sight that Hal and Chester, far back with General Petain and staff, witnessed through their glasses that late afternoon.
In dense masses the French hurled themselves against the German trenches; and in great masses they were hurled back again—those of them who did not lie upon the ground. Time after time the French charged what appeared to be impregnable trenches. Then, on their fifth effort, they reached their goal and surged into the trenches.
Immediately all was confusion there. An unguarded moment meant a man's death. Struggling as they were, it was, at times, almost impossible to tell friend from foe. But the troops distinguished somehow, and for what seemed ages they battled there, hand-to-hand.
German reinforcements rushed up in a valiant effort to save the day. General Petain threw out supports for his own infantry. All these surged into the trenches and added their quota to the terrible din.
Several times the German cavalry charged, their riders dismounting when they reached the struggling mass of humanity and plunging into the fray with sabres and revolvers. But each time they were beaten off.
Gradually the French cleared the trenches. The Germans gave slowly at first; then more swiftly. The French pursued them with loud cries. The enemy broke and fled.
Again German reinforcements rushed to the attack. The French met them in the open, beyond the third line German trenches. The fighting was something terrible; but flushed with victory as they were, there could be but one ending.
A German bugle sounded a recall; and at almost the same moment the evening sun settled beyond the distant eastern hills.
The French had won the day!
Hal and Chester looked at each other. Then, even as the entire French staff broke into a loud cheer, the two lads grasped hands.
"We've won!" said Hal.
"Verdun is saved!" exclaimed Chester.
So there, upon this historic field, we shall take our leave of these two friends for the time; but we shall renew our acquaintance later, in a succeeding volume, entitled: "The Boy Allies on the Somme; or, Courage and Bravery Rewarded."
End of Project Gutenberg's The Boy Allies At Verdun, by Clair W. Hayes