CHAPTER XXIXBOWERS IN ACTION
It was the fate of the American marines to be at the front at a moment when the destiny of the modern world hung in the balance; and they played a part that will be gratefully remembered in America, as well as in western Europe, through generations to come.
During the day of fierce fighting, Hal and Chester had been in the foremost of the fight. They had hugged down in ravines together and together they had charged the German machine guns at the head of their men.
Many officers fell in the early hours of the battle and long before darkness cast its shadow over the battlefield captains and lieutenants were occupying the posts of colonels and majors.
Nowhere in the field were there more competent officers than Hal and Chester had long since proven themselves to be; and the company of marines whose lot it fell to the lads to lead, soon placed the utmost confidence in them.
This company, in whose ranks was Sergeant Bowers, had been one of the first to get into the fight, and although the tired men would have welcomed a moment’s breathing space from time to time, they had no breathing space.
It was this company which was the first to attack the enemy in Chateau Thierry itself.
It was after one o’clock in the afternoon when the order came for the men to leave the comparative shelter of the woods and move to the attack. The men cheered wildly as the word was passed. They had been lying down and plugging away at the enemy with their rifles. Now they welcomed the chance that would bring them to hand grips. It was Chester who gave the word:
“Forward!” he cried.
Instantly the men were on their feet and streaming from the woods into the open place beyond. Their advance was greeted with a hail of machine-gun fire, and high explosive shells burst to the right and to the left of them, and in their midst. But the men were not dismayed; they showed only a greater eagerness to get in close.
Chester waved his sword aloft as he urged his troops to greater efforts. Hal, close beside his chum, also brandished his sword and flourished a revolver in his left hand.
In this manner, in spite of the havoc wreaked in their lines by the enemy fire, the marines charged upon the German lines before Chateau Thierry.
The opposing lines met with a shock. Men stumbled forward; others reeled back and dropped to the ground to rise no more. It was a terrible spectacle, and Hal and Chester were right in the middle of it.
At this sort of fighting the Germans did not have a chance with the men from America. Flower of the German army they were, but never before had they encountered such determination, such recklessness and such an unquenchable spirit as the marines displayed.
“Give it to ’em, boys!” shouted Hal, as he parried a thrust from a German officer and fired his revolver in the man’s face.
And give it to ’em the marines did!
The men had advanced, cheering; now they became strangely quiet, bending all their energies toward subduing the foe. Slowly the Germans gave ground.
Into the streets of the village the marines advanced on the very heels of the enemy. Chester and Hal posted them in little groups at advantageous points while, they awaited the arrival of reinforcements, which even now could be seen advancing in the distance.
From a house to the left a machine gun crackled suddenly. Half a dozen men near Hal tumbled over. Hal acted quickly.
“Sergeant Bowers!” he called sharply. “Take a dozen men and capture that house! Stay,” he added as Bowers hurried away, “I’ll go with you.”
With a word to Chester, Hal dashed after Sergeant Bowers and the dozen men.
To reach the house it was necessary to brave the fire of the machine gun, which covered the approach to the building. But this Hal did not hesitate to order his men to do, for by no other means, he saw, could the place be captured, and he realized, too, that it must be captured at all hazards.
The machine gun spat viciously at the Americans, but they advanced unflinchingly. Two men fell and two others cursed, by which Hal knew they had been hit. So there were only ten men besides Hal and Sergeant Bowers who reached the house, and two of these were wounded.
At the door of the building the Americans were out of range of the machine gun, which still poured bullets over their heads. The door was locked. Bowers and a private named Timothy put their shoulders to it and it flew open with a crash.
“Upstairs, men!” cried Hal.
Bowers reached the steps first and sprang up three at a time. Hal and the others were close behind him. At the top, Bowers led the way along the narrow hall toward the room where the German machine gun was posted. The door to this room also was locked. Again Bowers and Timothy brought their sturdy shoulders into use and the door gave way beneath their weight. At the moment of the crash, Hal shouted:
“Down on the floor, men!”
And it was well that he did so.
The German machine gunner within had acted just as Hal had surmised he would. When he heard the intruders at the door, he turned his gun so that it commanded the entrance; and when the door fell inward, he opened fire.
But thanks to Hal’s prompt action, the Americans escaped unscathed. From his position on the floor, Hal raised his revolver, took careful aim and fired. The German gunner inside the room threw up his hands, staggered to his feet, spun around twice on his heel and rolled over like a log.
“All right, men,” said Hal calmly. “Grab that gun.”
So the gun was in the possession of the Americans, and it had been captured with the loss of only two men.
Hal approached the window and looked out. He saw Chester and his men forming to repel an attack that the enemy was about to launch. The reinforcements had not arrived yet and Chester’s company faced the alternative of standing firm in the face of superior numbers or retiring. Hal saw that Chester had determined to fight it out.
“Foolish, perhaps,” he told himself, “but I don’t blame him. Well, maybe I can help a bit. Bowers!” The sergeant saluted. “Train the gun on the enemy advancing there,” Hal continued. “They make a good target. We should be able to break up the attack with this single gun.”
Bowers needed no urging. With his own hands he whirled the gun about so it again pointed through the window. Then, without waiting for further orders, he opened fire.
The steady stream of machine-gun bullets opened a wide gap in the ranks of the oncoming enemy. As quickly as these gaps were filled by reserve troops, the gun manned by Bowers mowed them down again. There was a slight smile on Bowers’ face.
“You will make us come three thousand miles to settle this argument, will you?” he muttered. “Well, you’ll get more than you bargained for, Fritz; much more!”
Under the hail of bullets from the single machine gun and the rifle fire from Chester’s troops below, the German line wavered along its entire length. Then the Germans broke and fled.
At the same moment, the first of the marine reinforcements poured into the streets of the village.
But Chateau Thierry had not yet been entirely cleared of the enemy. From the windows of many houses German snipers, singly and in groups, picked off the Americans from these shelters. Hal, glancing from the window, was able to see better than was Chester below the points where lay the greatest danger to the marines.
“Bowers!” he called.
The sergeant stepped forward.
“See that house across the street?” asked Hal, pointing.
“Yes sir!”
“Good! You take five men and clean up the Germans there. I’ll take the other five and drive out the enemy stationed in the house next to it.”
“Very good, sir.”
Bowers turned and called five marines by name. The men gathered around him and the sergeant led the way from the house. Hal, with his five marines, sallied forth after the others.
On the street, the force divided, Sergeant Bowers and his men dashed up the steps of the first house, burst open the door and disappeared within. Hal led his men next door.
As it developed, Hal had picked out the most difficult task for Sergeant Bowers and his men. As the door burst in under the blows of the marines, Sergeant Bowers, in advance, saw that the lower hall was filled with Germans.
But it was too late to draw back now. Besides, the lives of many Americans outside lay in the hands of these foes should the little party of Americans fail to conquer them.
“Down, men!” cried the sergeant, and the first volley from the Germans passed harmlessly over their heads.
“Fire!” shouted Sergeant Bowers, and from their positions flat on the floor the five marines swung their rifles into position and blazed away.
The Germans received the bullets standing. Apparently they had no leader of such quick decision as Sergeant Bowers.
“Up and at them!” shouted the sergeant.
With a cheer the little handful of marines obeyed orders.
Another volley the Germans fired, but their nerves appeared to have been shattered and the bullets went wild with one exception. A ball pierced Sergeant Bowers’ left shoulder.
With a yell of anger, Sergeant Bowers hurled his empty revolver into the very faces of the enemy and dashed forward with his naked hands, his big fingers twisting spasmodically.
“Shoot me, will you?” he howled. “Shoot me, will you? Take that!”
He struck out with his great right fist and one German soldier crumpled up and slid gently to the floor.
“Shoot me, will you?” yelled the sergeant again.