The Brighton Boys in the Argonne ForestDriscoll, James R.
History
The Brighton Boys in the Argonne Forest
Driscoll, James R.
Argonne, Battle of the, France, 1918 -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
“Now then, gentlemen, our duty lies ahead, as before,” Captain Lowden
was saying, as the several officers together curled up on the ground
for a few hours of sleep, with two-thirds of the men about them already
lost in slumber. Their leader continued: “We can plan no particular
action, as you know, but just take what comes. The only order now, just
received, is to vary the general direction of attack to about three
degrees east of north, or as a sailor would box it, north, northeast by
north, and not to exceed one-half mile per hour until further orders,
unless there is evidence of a larger part of the line’s making greater
progress. This is done to keep separate units from getting so far ahead
as to become cut off from immediate support, as has occurred.
“Whitcomb, you take the right center of the advance; I shall proceed
with the left center; Jones and Morley will work off to my left and
Richards to the right of Whitcomb. Every little while it will be the
duty of each officer to get in touch with his nearest comrades, thus
to know where we all are, and after three hours, if possible, despatch
a messenger to me with a brief report. I am doing the same with the
captains of the other companies and reporting to the colonel, who, in
turn, sends back word of agreement or other orders by the returning
messenger. In this manner we aim to co-ordinate our efforts.
“Now then, fellows, go to sleep and good luck tomorrow morning!
Good-night.”
Almost with the first streaks of dawn, when it was hardly light enough
to see what one was doing, the men were preparing breakfast, carrying
portions to those on watch, and the portable field kitchen was soon
emptied of its supplies, though soon to be replenished. Most of the men
stuffed a little for lunch and a nibble between times into duffle bag
or pockets, often adding a bit also in case of accident.
An hour before sun-up they were roughly formed and advancing, depending
upon the scouts ahead to apprize them of the nearest enemy positions
and after that finding these as the advance continued.
Herbert and Don had a few minutes together before the advance began.
“Pills says that Judson will come round all right in a few weeks, Don.”
“I’m glad of that; I like that fellow. How about Wilson?”
“Oh, he’ll be back with us in a few days; he’s keen to get another
whack at the Heinies.”
“And Gill?”
“That’s a funny thing,” Herbert declared. “He simply didn’t know how
badly he was hurt; some kind of a nerve shock and yet he kept his
wits about him. Clear case of grit, will power, though he had to be
invalided home. Didn’t want to go, either, but the captain and I made
it clear to him that he had done more than his share of reducing the
Hun army and that poor Jennings was more then avenged. Say, Don, if an
army could be made up of such chaps as Gill it wouldn’t take more than
ten thousand of them to lick the whole German army.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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