There were dead, dying, and wounded men all about, and more back where the German resistance had been strongest. Bob and Iggy had come through the ordeal with nothing more than slight flesh wounds. They were sufficiently painful, but not serious enough to send them to the hospital. Iggy had been scratched on the arm by a ragged bit of shrapnel shell, and Bob had received a cut on the forehead by some flying missile. And now came the blessed relief from the toil and the struggle, from the sweat and the blood of the battle. "Cease firing!" had sounded, most welcome signal, and the men who were left alive, many of them wounded, began to think of other things than killing and trying to escape from being killed. They sat or sprawled about, some panting to get back the breath that was so nearly spent. Others began to eat some of their emergency rations and to drink water from their canteens. "Did you see anything of Roger and Jimmy?" asked Bob, when he had recovered something of his spent energies. "Yes. I see tham run like what you say--Old Harry--over by that way," and Iggy pointed to the left. "Then came a big shell and so much dust and smoke that I of see tham no more." "Say, I hope that shell didn't do for 'em!" exclaimed Bob. "Didn't you see anything of 'em after that?" he asked anxiously. "Oh, that shell did not tham keel," declared Iggy. "Oh, no! I see tham when the smoke of it went up, and so sure I am that they was not keeled by these shell. But maybe they was keeled by some other." "Yes, that's always the chance in this business," returned Bob gloomily. "Well, we'll soon know. If they're alive they'll join us, no doubt." "De soonest de bester," declared Iggy. Perhaps there is no more trying time to fighting men than just after a big battle. The excitement that forced them on against the odds of death in many forms has subsided, and there is the reaction. Perhaps this reaction is even greater after victory than after defeat. For in the latter case there is still the incentive of hurrying on, often to avoid capture, and this need of haste provides the excitement that prevents too much thinking. But after a terrific and bloody engagement, such as that through which Bob and Iggy had just passed, and when victory has come, there often follows a reaction caused by the thought of the brave ones who, by their lives or by horrible wounds, have helped pay the price of the success of those who live and who come after. And it was thoughts like these that filled the hearts and minds of the Khaki Boys and their comrades with gloom as they recovered themselves after the fighting. "Say, when are we going to get some hot soup?" one lad asked. "What flavor do you want?" shouted a companion. "Oh, I'm not particular. Strawberry or vanilla--just so long as it's hot." "Fat chance you have of getting soup!" declared a veteran. "Lucky, if you have a crust and some muddy water."