The Boy Volunteers with the British Artillery — John Shaqi
The Boy Volunteers with the British ArtilleryWard, Kenneth
General
The Boy Volunteers with the British Artillery
Ward, Kenneth
World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Belgium -- Juvenile fiction
This multiplied by sixty, to represent an hour, and then by five to
get the grand total, in point of time, makes more than three hundred
thousand missiles distributed over an area of less than five square
miles. Imagine, if you can, what it would mean to have ten of those
terrific shrapnel shells explode over every acre in that region. No
wonder that human flesh cannot stand that sort of warfare.
Slowly the muzzles of the guns were raised higher and higher. In the
front, over that broad field, although the sun was shining brightly,
yet there was a thick haze. Absolutely nothing could now be seen but
the densest smoke, and noises were no longer distinguishable.
The boys rushed down to the telephone station. The operator, streaming
with perspiration, and with a voice so hoarse that it was scarcely
above a whisper, was still taking the messages.
"The second line has just been taken. They are rounding up a division
beyond the hill. The traverses beyond are filled with Germans, who have
not offered any resistance. Prisoners are coming in by the thousands.
The railroad has been reached."
"Wonderful! wonderful!" shouted the lieutenant in an ecstasy of joy. "I
didn't expect that. We have cut into them two miles, at least."
The operator held up his hand. "The main defenses on the ridge
have just been taken. The reserves have been ordered up to handle
the prisoners. Four staff officers have been taken from the tunnel
shelters," he said.
Every one was in a delirium. Each felt that he had contributed some
share to the glorious victory. It was a revelation of the power of
the French gunnery, and the wonderful co-operation of the infantry in
moving forward in the shelter of the _curtain_, as it has been so aptly
termed.
Gradually the deafening din ceased and appeared to die away. One
gun from each battery still remained on duty, and fired at regular
intervals. With field glasses many things could now be distinguished,
the important one, and that which most interested the boys, being the
immense number of troops moving to and fro and through the fields so
lately harrassed by their guns.
"Would you like to take a trip across that territory?" asked the
lieutenant, as the boys came up.
"Indeed, we would," replied Ralph.
"It is too late tonight, but we intend to make an inspection tomorrow,"
he replied. "I promise you shall go along."
At supper that night there did not seem to be any extraordinary show of
enthusiasm. Probably every one had been surfeited with excitement.
"Don't you have a queer feeling in your ears?" said Alfred.
"Well, my ears have been humming and buzzing right along. It appears
sometimes as though the guns were still going. It seems unnatural to
have this quiet," remarked Ralph.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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