“When I get back to God’s country, I am going to take this old pan of a hat, hang it up in the prettiest place in the best room in the house and keep it covered with fresh flowers. Why? The darned old thing saved my life. I wouldn’t ’a’ had any bean left if this inverted wash basin thing hadn’t been covering it.” “Poor Giddings always had a pick at his helmet,” remarked Clem. “He used to say that just a hat wasn’t much good and that what a man wants in this war is a suit of armor made out of stove plates. In his case he was about right.” “But wrong in mine,” said Martin. “Say, what’s doing, Sarge?” asked a private of the non-com in the next squad, who now stood next to Clem in the line-up. “The Heinies are going to make a push here, I believe,” was the answer. “When?” “Pretty soon. Guess we’ll hear the barrage laid down first. But maybe they think they’re strong enough to rush us without that.” “Hope they do. It’s more lively. I don’t like them barrages. Make me think o’ my old uncle across the pond. He’s one o’ those bear hunters. Sez he’d a heap rather fight a bear than a hive o’ bees; you can see the bear.” “Right-o! Here, too! You can stick a bayonet into a Hun, but you can’t even dodge these here mowin’-machine bullets.” “Listen, fellows!” Clem held up his hand. A distant shot, another, several, a dozen, a thousand, crack, bang, boom, as though all the Fourth of July celebrations that ever had been and ever would be had been turned loose at once. “She’s on, boys! And there’ll be a lot of ricocheting bullets coming this far--so look out for them!” So spoke the lieutenant, now commander of Clem’s company, as he walked up and down the line. The sergeant next to Clem turned to the officer. “Do you think the Frogeaters can hold them, lieutenant?” “Doubt it. They say the Huns outnumber them three to one. And they mean to drive right through to the Compiègne road. So it’s up to us to stop them, I guess.” “We’ll try hard, lieutenant,” Clem offered. Within twenty minutes the roar of the barrage ceased as suddenly as it began. Then came a lull, followed by the rattle of small arms which, at the distance, sounded much like a lot of youngsters cracking hickory nuts. Within half an hour after this the expected happened. For the tired and greatly outnumbered French, fighting savagely, had failed to stem the Hun tide and began to give way before it. Some retreated a little too late and these were quickly surrounded and taken prisoner, to suffer tortures in German detention camps for many a long day. The wounded were hurried to the rear. As the dressing stations to the extreme right of the support line became congested those set up in sheltered positions directly behind the hill were called on for duty. Then the many ambulances of the United States army, French army and American Red Cross dashed through the line of marines, and around the base of the hill.