The Yanks took no time to consider the toll of their number out there in the open and to the very edge of the forest, where men lay dead and wounded by the score, the ground half covered, except that the desire was to avenge them, to destroy the cause of the loss among their comrades. And this was a very palpable desire, serving to increase the fury of the offensive. More than ever among the trees it was every man for himself; yet every man knew that his surviving comrades were fighting with him, and while this sort of thing strengthens the morale it was hardly needed here, for each man depended also on his own prowess, and there were many who, had they known that every one of their companions had been shot down, would alone have gone right ahead with the task of cleaning up the Argonne Forest of Huns. Numerous cases of this individuality were shown and will be forever recorded in history to the glory of the American fighting spirit, being all the more notable on account of the German boast that the Americans would not and could not fight, and they could expect nothing else than overwhelming defeat if they should attempt to combat the trained soldiers of the Central Empire. In the advance across the open the singing and striking of small arm bullets accompanied by the roar of many running feet was the principal impression which Lieutenant Whitcomb received; the purpose of charging the enemy and overcoming him was so fixed in Herbert’s mind as to be altogether instinctive. Several times he glanced aside to see a comrade tumble forward or, going limp, pitch to the ground with his face ever toward the enemy. Several times the lieutenant but just observed the beginning of struggles in agony or the desire to rise and go on again. Once, after a particularly savage burst of fire concentrated from the forest upon his men, when several fellows in a bunch went down and out of the fight and the line for a moment wavered a little, the boy officer called out sharply: “Steady, fellows, steady! Keep right on! We’re going to get those chaps in there in a minute and make them sorry we came!” Then a moment later, when they were among the trees, he turned again to call to his platoon, within hearing at least of the nearest, though he could not have told how many of his men were with him, how many had survived the terrible ordeal of the charge in the open: “Now, men, go for ’em in our own way! Trees and rocks--you know how to make use of them! Give them a taste of their own medicine, only make it ten times worse! Forward!” CHAPTER V KILL OR BE KILLED