Fighting with French: A Tale of the New ArmyStrang, Herbert
History
Fighting with French: A Tale of the New Army
Strang, Herbert
World War, 1914-1918 -- France -- Juvenile fiction
With their clasp knives they cautiously attacked the boards in the wall
of the third shed, stopping every now and again to listen. After a
while they were able to remove two of the boards, leaving an opening
large enough to admit them. Very carefully they climbed in. Dark as
the interior had appeared from the outside, they found when they were
inside that there was just light enough, filtering through cracks in the
wall, to reveal the contents of the shed. The whole interior, except for
narrow gangways, was packed with shells and cases of high explosives.
Near the door there were shells for field guns and howitzers, and a
certain quantity of small arms ammunition. It was clear that the shed
was an ammunition depot.
Creeping carefully back, they replaced the boards, and went to the
middle shed, which they managed to enter in the same way, after the
exercise of greater patience, owing to the more constricted space
between the shed and the wall of the quarry. Here they found the gun
train, and a number of petrol tins: evidently the engine was petrol
driven. While Kenneth examined the engine as well as he could in the
still dimmer light, wishing he dared to use his electric torch, Harry
stole to the front of the shed, and watched the sentry through a crack
in the badly fitting folding doors. Kenneth followed him.
"Let me know when the sentry’s back is turned," he whispered. "I’ll use
my torch then."
Harry gave the sign by a scarcely audible hiss. Kenneth made the best
use of the few seconds afforded him at intervals. His experience of
motor engines had taught him exactly what to look for. And he was
prompted, not by mere curiosity, but by a sudden idea which had occurred
to him, but which he had not yet mentioned to his companion. The engine
was still warm. He knew that it ran very smoothly; it was provided with
a very efficient silencer, or he would not have mistaken it for an
electric engine. With their customary thoroughness, the Germans had
ensured that the movements of their gun train should lack nothing in
secrecy.
The mechanism was simple, similar to that of an ordinary touring car,
except that there were only two speeds and reverse.
"Well," he thought, "why not run off with the train, gun and all?"
The train had backed into the shed trucks first. They were still
coupled to the engine. The load was very heavy; the question was
whether he could get up speed in time to escape. Some of the Germans
were awake: the sentry was at the door; the feat seemed impossible, and
Kenneth dismissed the idea, feeling glad that he had not suggested it to
Harry. But before leaving the engine he looked into the tank, and saw
that it was half full of petrol.
A hiss called him to the door. The sentry was being changed. The new
man was grumbling at having had to leave his bed. The voices in the
further shed had ceased.
"All gone to bed?" asked the sentry who was being relieved.
"Yes," replied the other, yawning.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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