The marvel of it all, though, to the men who entered the trenches that night, was the completeness and the readiness of the preparations for the opening of the battle they were to make. When you, who read this, stop to think how long a distance 5,000 miles is, and then consider that just that amount of telephone wire, 5,000 miles, had been laid and connected for keeping every unit and the various commanding quarters in complete touch with every advance, every development, every emergency or contingency, you may realize, too, that these Americans were being sent in only after the most careful planning, and after every precaution of whatever nature had been taken to insure success. It was no haphazard undertaking, there was no reliance upon luck or chance. It was a scientific operation, computed and arranged to the last detail. Not only that, but more than 100,000 detail maps and 40,000 photographs were prepared, largely from aerial observations, and distributed to the officers in charge of carrying the operation forward. These maps and photographs showed practically every foot of ground to be traversed, every natural and artificial defense which they would be called upon to conquer, and put upon paper even more clearly than words could have expressed it the exact route and objective of every single company and platoon that was engaged in the fight. And in addition to that, as the men of the regiment to which our friends were attached lay down upon their arms that night, awaiting the outbreak of the artillery onslaught which would indicate that the first phase of the battle was on, 10,000 men sat at the various instruments connected up to the improvised telephone system, and 3,000 carrier pigeons were being distributed among different units, to be released when their objectives had been obtained, or insurmountable difficulties were encountered—provided word could not be gotten back to headquarters by any other means. Captain McCallum looked at his wrist watch, and then at a paper he held in his hand. He went down the trench repeating the information which was the first thing definite that the men had learned since they started for the front. “Our army is attacking along a twelve-mile front,” he said. “Our own immediate objective for tomorrow will be Thiaucourt. I need not tell you more. That is our objective. It means that we must take that town. Pershing has placed his trust in you for that; so, also, has Marshal Foch. We are at about the centre of the line driving upon that point.” And without further word he passed along to another group, to which he issued the same information and instruction. “Thiaucourt,” repeated Tom, as the captain left. “Never heard of it before, but I guess it’s got to be ours by tomorrow night.” “Righto!” assented Harper and Ollie together. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER IV THE THUNDER OF MARS