As it burst into a mass of flames that were lurid, even in the now broad daylight, the two men who had been occupying it as observers jumped out. There was nothing else for them to do, and probably it was not their first parachute descent from a great height. Nevertheless Tom gave an involuntary gasp at the apparent cool courage of the men as they leaped into space, and, for a distance of fully a hundred feet, shot down with tremendous speed toward the earth until their parachutes opened up. They landed upon the opposite side of the wood, and the men who had watched them never learned whether they escaped in safety or were killed in the inferno into which they landed. In five minutes more Tom was free. The fight by that time had forged steadily ahead, and beyond the delay of stopping to ease the dying moments of one brave fellow with a last gulp of water, they rushed forward to join the others of their platoon. As they passed through the wood, which stretched longitudinally for a considerable distance, but was comparatively shallow in depth, they saw scores of Germans and not a few of their own men, most of them dead, others mortally wounded and dying, others temporarily incapacitated but not so seriously hurt, trying to staunch their own wounds and hobble back to first aid stations. It was a sight that struck to the very heart of the lads, but looking backward for an instant they saw the second wave of indomitable men approaching, and scattered through the occasional breaches in their lines they saw that emblem of tender care and mercy, the Red Cross. Where the Germans previously had dug in, just behind the line of the wood, was now a havoc of wreck and ruin, the whole earth thereabouts having been churned and plowed and furrowed by the terrific artillery fire which the Americans had poured in preliminary to the advance. From where they had swung round the eastern end of the miniature forest, hundreds of tanks were now bobbing up and down like great, clumsy, fire-spitting beetles, as they lumbered across this chaos of mounds and gullies, paving the way for the renewed infantry attack that would open with the arrival of the second wave of shock troops. Actual fighting had been going on little more than an hour, and yet the Americans had progressed more than a mile beyond where the first German line had been encountered, had taken what the Boche had regarded as an almost impregnable wood, peopled as it was with sharp-shooters and hundreds of machine gun nests, and by the sheer courage and determination of their attack had struck fear to the heart of the Hun. Losses had been heavy, but they were slight as compared with the casualties of the Germans. It had been a fearful ordeal, and the attack really had but just begun. The men were begrimed, powder-stained and most of them crusted with mud. But they were as invincible now as when they started—and more anxious to continue.