The Brighton Boys at Chateau-ThierryDriscoll, James R.
General
The Brighton Boys at Chateau-Thierry
Driscoll, James R.
World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- France -- Juvenile fiction
They ran on. The houses of the village were close at hand and in
among these they went. Two of the men had originally qualified as
grenade-throwers. Clem told them to blow up anything that looked like
a gun nest. The others were to use rifle, bayonet and pistol only.
It was necessary to shout these orders above the rattle of guns and
yells of the charging marines on every side. The words were hardly
out of Clem’s mouth before the long, jacketed barrel of a machine-gun
was poked out of a cellar entrance on the street not fifty feet ahead
of them and the fire began to streak from its muzzle toward a group
of marines coming down a cross street. One of Clem’s new men lighted
his grenade, dashed forward, bowled it over-hand with a skill that
would have done credit to an expert cricketer. A mass of dust, dirt
and mangled objects blew out of the cellar and that gun nest was no
more. The little squad rushed on. Opposite a square stone building
from a window of which came a burst of flame and a ripping sound.
Clem saw some steps to the right which might lead to this nest. He
shouted to his men and leaped forward. At the top step he glanced
about. Three of his squad lay on the ground. Two were following him.
The heavy door was fastened. Clem drew back the butt of his gun to
break the lock, but one of the others fired into it, and as they
threw their bodies against the door it burst open.
Within a large room, like an inn parlor, two Huns were working the
machine-gun and a third met them with leveled rifle. Before Clem
could fire one of his men threw his weapon like a Zulu his spear
and the bayonet transfixed the Hun, who sank with a gasp. The other
marines were upon the two gunners before they had time even to shout
“Kamerad!” Freeing their bayonet points all three turned to leave the
building when a lone marine jumped in, shouting:
“Gun nest on the roof!”
“Get ’em!” shouted Clem, who was dimly aware that the man was Martin,
of his own squad.
They found a stairway. Dashing up this and along a hall, they climbed
another flight where they saw a ladder leading to an open trap door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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