CHAPTER XIVTHE CONFERENCE

CHAPTER XIVTHE CONFERENCE

It was now after noon and Hal knew that it would require swift driving to reach Marshal Foch’s headquarters, near Paris, before four o’clock, the hour of the conference. Nevertheless, the lad had perfect confidence in himself and his ability to handle the big army automobile, and he felt quite certain that he would reach the French commander’s headquarters before the appointed hour, barring accidents.

Both Hal and Chester were almost bubbling over with excitement, for each felt sure that he was to be present at a time when history was to be made. Naturally, in spite of the fact that they had seen active service with the British and French, both had the utmost confidence in General Pershing and each was positive in his own mind that the counsel of the American commander would prevail.

The trip passed without incident. Hal kept the huge car going at top speed most of the time, slowing down only for the sharpest curves and to avoid possible collisions with cars approaching from the opposite direction. Therefore, it was not yet half past three o’clock when the automobile drew into the outskirts of the little town where Field Marshal Foch, commander of all the Allied forces, had established his headquarters.

It became apparent as they moved into the village that news of the approaching conference had spread through the troops. The British, French and what few American soldiers there were in that particular sector cheered wildly as the automobile bearing the American commander-in-chief flashed by.

Directly Hal brought the machine to a halt in front of a house somewhat larger than the rest, over which floated the combined flags of the three nations—France, England and the United States. Hal guessed rightly that it was in this house that Marshal Foch made his headquarters.

Before the building was a long line of French soldiers. To the right, these were flanked by a platoon of British, while on the left stood the American guard of honor. Nearby was a large automobile bearing the British arms. Chester surmised correctly that Marshal Haig had already arrived.

General Pershing stepped lightly from his car. Before moving away, surrounded by his staff, he motioned Hal and Chester to follow him.

The lads followed their commander up the short flight of steps and presently he and his staff were ushered into a large room in the rear on the first floor. At the door General Pershing was greeted by Marshal Foch and Marshal Haig in person, for the French and British commanders were not standing upon ceremony.

Inside, the three commanders took seats at a table in the center of the room, the members of their various staffs standing behind them. Besides the formal salutes when the three commanders met, there had been a hearty handshake all around. Now they were ready for business.

Marshal Foch arose and spoke to General Pershing.

“I have called this conference at your request, General,” he said, “so it would seem to me that we should hear from you first.”

Marshal Foch sat down and General Pershing rose to his feet.

“First, sir,” he said, “I must explain the presence here of so many of my aides. Besides several members of my regular staff, I am accompanied by two young lieutenants whom, if I am not mistaken, Sir Douglas Haig knows well. I refer to Lieutenants Paine and Crawford.”

Marshal Haig nodded to General Pershing and then to Hal and Chester.

“I know them well,” he said, and then to Hal and Chester: “Glad to see you again, sirs.”

Hal and Chester saluted stiffly.

“I have brought them here,” said General Pershing, “in order that they may hear what I have to say, for it may be that I shall have need of them to prove to you the correctness of my views.”

“You need make no apology for their presence, General,” said Marshal Foch.

“Very well, sir,” returned General Pershing. “I shall proceed.”

Every ear in the room was strained to catch the next few words of the American commander, for there was not a man in the room who did not realize that it must have been a matter of prime importance thus to bring the three great commanders together. It is probable that most of the American officers present had a general idea of what General Pershing was about to propose; but neither the British nor French commanders or members of their staffs had had an inkling of it. Hal and Chester listened eagerly for General Pershing’s next words.

“I want to ask you, gentlemen,” said General Pershing quietly, toying with a paperweight on the table as he spoke, “whether you do not think we have remained passive long enough—whether it is not, in your opinion, time that we assumed the offensive rather than to wait until the enemy brings the fight to us?”

Marshal Foch and Marshal Haig were on their feet in a moment. Marshal Haig spoke first.

“You mean that you would have us attack at once?” he asked.

“I do, sir,” returned General Pershing grimly.

There was an audible catching of breaths throughout the room. Marshal Foch was silent a full moment. Then he said:

“We haven’t the men, general.”

“Black Jack” Pershing scowled.

“What’s the matter with the Americans?” he demanded. “I’ve a million of them over here and there are more coming. They’ve been here for months and have done practically nothing and they want to know why. What’s the matter with the Americans, sir?”

Marshal Foch shrugged his shoulders and elevated his hands.

“But, sir,” he protested, “they are untrained, unseasoned, raw troops. Surely you cannot expect them to stand against the enemy’s veterans. It would be suicide.”

“I agree with Marshal Foch,” Marshal Haig interposed. “It is true they have proven their mettle wherever they have gone into action, but they have not had the training.”

An angry light gleamed in General Pershing’s eyes.

“They’ll go any place you order ’em, sir. I’ll stake my reputation on that,” he thundered.

A hush of expectancy fell over the room. The air was surcharged with excitement.

In spite of the feeling of pride at his commander’s words, Hal felt a thrill of fear shoot through him. Was it possible that the heads of the Allied armies were about to quarrel?

But Hal need not have worried. Men like these did not indulge in foolish quarrels. They spoke strongly because they felt strongly, and each realized that the other was advancing views that he considered best.

General Pershing brought a clenched fist down on the table. Pens and ink stands jumped and rattled.

“I say that we have delayed long enough,” he declared. “What have we been doing to regain lost territory? Nothing. True, we’ve halted the enemy every time he struck, but we’ve not regained a mile of lost ground. I say it’s time to hit back.”

“If we only had the necessary numerical superiority,” said Marshal Haig.

“I tell you, sir,” said General Pershing, “that my men can stand up—yes, they can go through—the best the enemy has to offer. Their morale is the greatest of any army that ever existed. Order them to drive the enemy back, and they’ll drive him back. I know what I am talking about, sirs. Try them!”

Again there was silence in the room, broken at last by Marshal Foch.

“It is well,” he said, “for a general to have that confidence in his men; and I am sure that your men have every bit as much confidence in you. I am impressed with your words; and yet I am loath to act on your suggestion with untried troops. I have seen such troops in action—the Portuguese. The enemy scattered them like chaff before the wind.”

“My men are Americans, sir,” said General Pershing simply.

“Oh, I know the traditions of the American fighting man,” said Marshal Foch. “I know that the trained American soldier is the equal of any in the world. But still I hesitate. If I could only be sure that the enemy has exhausted himself in his latest offensive—if I only knew the disposition of his forces—then I might act. I have, of course, a general idea of the enemy’s activities, but not enough, I am afraid, in ordering a grand offensive, as you suggest.”

“I don’t care anything about the enemy’s positions,” declared General Pershing. “What I say is this: Order the Americans to break the German line and they’ll break it!”

Again Marshal Foch shook his head.

“I am afraid the time is not ripe,” he said sadly.

For a moment General Pershing seemed on the verge of making an angry retort. Instead, he said quietly:

“I was prepared to hear you advance such views, sir, so I have another suggestion to offer.”

“Proceed, sir,” said Marshal Foch.

“It is this,” said General Pershing: “I want to ask you if you will act on my suggestion if I can gain for you such information as will convince you that the time is really ripe to strike? Will you act on my suggestion if I furnish you with better figures as to the enemy’s strength in the various battle sectors and the disposition of his troops?”

“Why,” replied Marshal Foch, “if you can show me that the time is ripe to strike, of course I shall strike. But I fear that is a very large task, sir.”

“Very true, sir. Yet I shall endeavor to fulfill it. It was for that reason, sir, that I brought with me the two young lieutenants I mentioned.”

Marshal Foch surveyed Hal and Chester keenly.

“They are very young,” he said deprecatingly.

“True,” said General Pershing, “yet I say with all positiveness that they are among the most capable of my officers.”

“I can vouch for that, sir,” said Marshal Haig.

Again Marshal Foch surveyed the lads closely, much to their embarrassment.

“Their names?” he asked of General Pershing.

“Lieutenants Paine and Crawford, sir.”

“Lieutenants Paine and Crawford,” said Marshal Foch, in a very quiet voice, “will you please step forward?”

Back to IndexNext