The American guns laid down a barrage, a veritable curtain of fire that went before their men and kept lifting as the line advanced so as not to kill their own men. The Americans were so eager to get forward that this was an ever present danger, and many lives had been lost in the earlier battles of the war from this cause. But now the men were veterans, and while they were just as full of ardor and eagerness as ever, they had learned not to throw their lives away by being over rash. A hail of fire came from the German guns as the first detachments reached the bridges and began to cross. Great lanes were torn in the American ranks, but they closed up at once like the water in the wake of a ship. The tanks went first, and though the floating bridges swayed beneath their weight they were soon safely on the other side of the canal. After they had reached the bank, they halted for the infantry to come up and form rank in the shelter of their armored sides. The bullets rattled against them until the din was like that of a boiler factory. Two of them were struck by monster shells that put them out of action, but the majority of them came through the storm of fire without material damage. In the meantime, the first detachments of infantry had crossed the bridges, although their losses were heavy and the planks of the bridge were red. Some had been swept into the canal and the water was dotted with bodies, some motionless, while others, who were only wounded, sought to swim to the nearer shore or were rescued by American boats that put out into the stream. The old Thirty-seventh had been given the post of honor in their section of the line and the Army Boys were in the first rank. A bullet clipped off a lock of Billy’s hair just above the ear, and one had pierced the sleeve of Frank’s arm, blistering the skin as it went along as though it had been seared by a hot iron. But the lads were so full of the spirit of the fight that they scarcely noticed these trifles when they brought up breathless on the further side. “So far so good,” gasped Frank, as he and his comrades halted to draw breath in the shelter of a great tank. “Talk about hundred yard dashes!” exclaimed Billy. “I’ll bet we came near beating the record for crossing bridges.” “I don’t know,” grinned Tom, as he took off his helmet to wipe his forehead. “I think we beat it that time when we scurried over the broken bridge like jack rabbits with the Uhlan cavalry only a dozen jumps in the rear. But we’re lucky this time as we were then, and we’ve come through with scarcely a scratch.” “Knock wood,” warned Billy. “This is only the curtain raiser. The real play is yet to come.”