An orderly came riding up at full speed, and looked around. "We are waiting for orders, I suppose," remarked a lieutenant. The orderly put spurs to his horse, and rode to the right, as he espied a group of horsemen. "Form your men along this line, and dig in," he directed. The order was given: "File to the right; halt; stack arms." Several lorries, which had been following them, came up, and at a word of command the men began to unload shovels and picks. This began to look like business. It was now growing light, but it still lacked a half hour before sunrise. "Why can't we lend a hand?" inquired Ralph. "Of course we can," answered Alfred. They were alongside in an instant. Ralph jumped into the vehicle, and helped to hand out the implements, while Alfred tried to edge his way in. Their earnestness attracted the officer in charge, and he smiled, and nodded his head in approval. Thus two van loads were dumped out, and carried forward of the rows of stacked arms. An engineer officer marked out the line of the trench, and the men were set to work. They were now doing the job for a _real_ purpose, as during their month of training in England these men had been instructed how to go about the business of making trenches, and it was wonderful to see how quickly the furrows were dug out. They were about four feet deep, the earth being thrown up on the side toward the enemy, thus making a shelter trench five feet deep. As soon as the main line was thus completed, traverses were cut, leading out at right angle to the rear of the main trench. These were formed in zig-zag fashion, the object being to form shelter sections along the entire trench, so that those within would not be subjected to what is called an enfilading fire. CHAPTER V ON THE FIRING LINE "Look at the guns back there," shouted Ralph, as the company marched back to get their first breakfast after three hours of hard work. "Come on, boys!" said the corporal in charge, smiling at the boys. "You've worked pretty hard for lads of your age; come and have something to eat." "So we will," said Alfred; "but what are the guns doing back there?" he asked, as he pointed out a battery which had limbered up and was wheeling into position. "You will see in a few moments," replied the corporal, and before they reached the mess wagon the guns began to roar. "How far away are the Germans?" asked Ralph. "About two and a half miles, I should judge," replied the corporal, looking at the battery. "How can you tell by looking at the guns?" asked Ralph. "By their angle," was the answer.