CHAPTER VA RAID
South of the city of Ypres itself and less than six miles east flows the river Orcuq. The crossing of the river and the capture of the town of Dun by the American troops will rank as one of the most gallant feats of the operations in the Ypres sector.
In this action Hal and Chester played important roles. The troops which accomplished this work may well rank as heroes, for their work in crossing the stream was a strategic move of unusual daring.
The crossing involved the forcing of a way over a 160-foot stream, a half-mile stretch of mud and a 60-foot canal in the face of a frightful enemy fire.
The Germans held the east side of the river, hastily dug trenches less than 100 yards from the shore making a crossing by the Allies a seemingly impossible task.
The order to cross the river came at mid-afternoon, two days after the German offensive at Ypres had been definitely checked. Hal and Chester carried the order themselves. It was signed by General Pershing, who was at the front at that moment, and was directed to Major General Lawrence, in command of the —st division.
The troops received their instructions under a sun which was shining for the first time in days. The men knew almost as well as their commanders the difficulty of the task and realized how well-nigh impossible its accomplishment would be. Yet they never doubted or hesitated.
The orders were to send over one brigade first—and if it failed, to send another—and others, one after the other—if it became necessary. It was with the dash that is traditional in the American army that the Yankee troops tackled the problem. Theoretically they had the choice of crossing anywhere for five miles. Actually they were limited to one point, where two-thirds of a mile of mud lay between the river itself and the canal that roughly parallels the river.
The Germans were too firmly intrenched at all other points. They had not protected themselves with trenches here because they never dreamed the Americans would be so daring as to try to force the passage. This was a short distance north of Velliers.
First came the call for swimmers from the first brigade. Not a man who could swim a stroke failed to stand out when the call came. Those whom their officers thought fit were put in the van.
With these went Hal and Chester.
It was intended to attack in this way on the theory that the swimmers were less likely to be hit by the Germans, owing to the fact that they would be nearly submerged. On the other hand, they would carry with them ropes and other paraphernalia for assisting men across who were unable to swim.
A perfect rain of fire from the Germans met these first Americans, as, under command of Captain Donaldson, Hal and Chester, they waded into the stream. The enemy had ensconced himself up the east bank with carefully selected machine gun positions, which raked every point of the bank where efforts to land could be enfiladed or met with direct fire.
Some men were killed in the water. More were drowned after having been wounded, for no unwounded man dared stop to rescue a comrade if the maneuver were to be successful.
Captain Donaldson made no effort to keep his men in formation as they swam rapidly across the river. There would be time enough for formation when they were safely ashore. Each man, when he waded into the water, struck out for himself, his chief aim being to reach the opposite shore as quickly as possible.
No bullet touched Hal or Chester as they swam at the head of their men. Bullets kicked up the water all about them, but both lads seemed to bear charmed lives.
Suddenly a German bullet pierced the forehead of Captain Donaldson, and the brave officer threw up his hands and sank without a word. Instantly, realizing that there must be a single head to the party, Hal assumed command.
“Faster, men!” he called. “We’re almost there!”
The troops exerted themselves to further efforts. Men sank every moment, hit by the enemy fire, but the others swam on apparently utterly oblivious to the danger that faced them.
Notwithstanding their losses and the fact that the swimmers could not fight back, nor even defend themselves, the bulk of the first expedition reached the east bank of the river with lines that were drawn taut across the stream. Others floated on rafts and collapsible boats. These men had less success than the swimmers, for they were better targets for the enemy’s fire, and the boats could be easily sunk by bullets even if the occupants were not hit.
Close to where the swimmers had crossed, engineers, who had been drawn across, now began to throw over pontoon bridges and a tiny foot bridge. The pontoons crumbled under the German fire, but the foot bridge remained intact and added materially to the constantly increasing number of men on the east bank. Soon after dark the first brigade was across the first barrier and more men were ready to make the journey.
After the swimmers headed by Hal and Chester had crossed the river, they waited eagerly until their comrades arrived with rifles, ammunition and side arms. Then they moved forward to the second phase of the perilous undertaking. This was the crossing of the kilometer of mud stretching between the river and the canal beyond, which, though it was under enemy fire, was not held by infantry. The Americans stumbled across the mud under a withering fire, firing as they advanced. From the rear the American lines were being constantly increased, so that now instead of the handful of men who had forced the crossing, there were enough American troops to offer a formidable fighting front.
Their feet sank into the mud as they advanced and soon the pace of the men was slowed down to a laborious walk. But there was no hesitancy in the ranks—no faltering. The men were too anxious to come to close quarters with the foe for that. The German guns played terrible havoc with the Yankees, but the rest pushed through.
Now came the third phase of the advance. This constituted the crossing of the canal, with its sheer sides and the Germans almost at the top of the eastern bank.
Here again the party, led by Hal and Chester, threw aside their arms and plunged into the water.
“Forward men!” cried Chester, as he plunged into the canal.
The men took up the cry with cheers, and swam rapidly after him.
Hal kept close to Chester’s side. Soon they reached the opposite shore, where lines were again drawn taut and other men were pulled across on rafts and in boats.
Once more the engineers got busy and almost as if by magic, bridges appeared.
Troops crossed them at the double. The bridges stood the enemy fire bravely and troops hurried across by hundreds.
Soaking wet, and with water dripping from every garment, immediately he set foot ashore and weapons were thrust in his hands by eager men behind, Hal, thinking to cover the landing of those still to come, ordered an advance.
Nothing loath, the first mere handful of men went forward at the double.
In vain the Germans, in their hastily entrenched positions, tried to stop them with rifle and machine-gun fire. The Americans were not to be stopped. They had undergone too strenuous a time getting across to be halted now.
Right for the German trenches they dashed and the enemy, his morale broken by the Yankee spirit, offered only a half-hearted resistance.
In vain the German officers tried to make their men fight. Blows from the flat of their swords and Teutonic imprecations failed to bring order out of chaos as the men from Yankeeland advanced with wild shouts and cries.
Into the trenches leaped the Americans, cutting down what few of the enemy offered resistance there. Apparently the Germans were too bewildered to fight with any idea of cohesion. Hundreds surrendered. Others dropped their weapons and fled.
From the west side of the canal and river fresh American troops advanced to the support of their comrades. General Lawrence himself crossed with them.
Despite the darkness, an advance was ordered and the American troops moved toward the village of Dun.
This little village, though exceedingly small before the war, was now an important railway center, and, realizing the results that could be attained if he followed up his initial success, General Lawrence determined to give the enemy no rest.
From the distance German artillery now had taken up the battle and shells dropped frequently in the newly-won American positions. Nevertheless, the Yankee troops reformed coolly enough and stood patiently under fire until the order at last came to advance.
Hal and Chester, now that their part of the task had been carried out successfully, personally reported to General Lawrence the death of Captain Donaldson, who had been in command of the first crossing party.
“It’s a pity,” General Lawrence took time to say. “He was a good officer and a brave man. I wish both of you young men would stay by me,” he added. “I watched you as you crossed and know that your courage cannot be questioned. Also, I have noticed your service stripes. My officers are few now, and I may have need of you.”
Hal and Chester clicked their heels, saluted and stood at attention.
General Lawrence gave his commands clearly and quickly.
The First and Second brigades were to move upon Dun, from the west, while the Third and Fourth, making a slight detour, were to attack from the north. General Lawrence aimed to launch his attack from both places simultaneously, and for this reason the Third and Fourth brigades moved an hour before the First and Second.
“Lieutenant Paine!” said General Lawrence.
Hal approached and saluted.
“My compliments to Colonel Adams and order him to move immediately with the Third and Fourth brigades. He will attack the village from the north an hour after daylight.”
Hal saluted again and hurried away.
“Lieutenant Crawford!”
Chester approached and saluted.
“My compliments to Colonel Gregory and order him to attack from the front an hour after daylight. Inform him that Colonel Adams will attack from the north simultaneously.”
Chester saluted and followed Hal from the general’s presence.
In the heart of each lad was a great impatience, for each longed for the action to commence. Nevertheless, outwardly, both were perfectly cool; for they had learned long ago and by hard experience that in the heat of battle the things that stood them in best stead were strong arms and cool heads.