The Khaki Boys over the Top; Or, Doing and Daring for Uncle Sam — John Shaqi
The Khaki Boys over the Top; Or, Doing and Daring for Uncle SamChase, Josephine
History
The Khaki Boys over the Top; Or, Doing and Daring for Uncle Sam
Chase, Josephine
World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
And that it was a face which they had uncovered, was not at all
certain to Roger and Jimmy at first. For so covered with blood,
streaks of dirt and powder stains was the countenance that it
resembled nothing human.
"He's alive--whoever he is!" declared Jimmy, for the unfortunate
was observed to breathe--and breathe deeply as the air came in more
abundantly to the parted lips.
Roger began digging in the dirt again, working down to the man's
hands. And when he had brushed aside the dirt and stones he lifted up
a limp wrist. One look at the identification tag chained around it,
and he cried:
"It's Iggy! We've found him all right!"
"Sure enough--it _is_ Iggy!" cried Jimmy, as he, too, looked at the
metal disk.
"Ach! Yes! Water!" faintly moaned the Polish lad. His voice was
a moan, but it was his voice. He opened his eyes, looked almost
uncomprehendingly at his two chums and smiled faintly.
"So, come you haf!" he murmured. "Think I did dat you would!"
His head, which he had raised, sank back limply.
"Here!" cried Jimmy, opening his canteen. "Drink this!"
Poor Iggy did, gratefully enough. Some of the water trickled over his
face, and when Roger wiped it away some of the blood and dirt went
with it.
"Why he isn't hurt much--not up here, anyhow!" cried Jimmy. "I thought
sure his whole head was blown off the way he looked."
"Well, let's get him out of here and look at him afterward," counseled
Roger, and they resumed their work until the Polish lad's body was
all exposed. Then he was lifted out, and in a little while it was
ascertained that he was not seriously injured--at least outwardly. His
arms and legs were whole, and there was no big wound, though he was
terribly scratched and bruised.
"But why stand up can not I!" asked Iggy, for Roger and Jimmy were
supporting him with their arms around him down in the shell hole.
"I guess he means why can't he stand up," translated Roger,
for sometimes their foreign Brother misplaced his English words
considerably.
"Sure! Why can't not I stand?" went on Iggy. "My legs--they is got no
business to 'em. Like paper legs they is!"
Roger and Jimmy looked apprehensively at one another. This loss of
feeling and muscular power in Iggy's legs might indicate that his
spine was injured--that his whole lower body was paralyzed!
"We've got to get him to the rear--to a hospital," said Roger in a low
voice, as the Polish lad's head drooped weakly on his shoulder.
"Yes," assented Jimmy. "But can we carry him?"
"Got to!"
They looked about for some means of getting Iggy to the top of the
shell hole. That would be the most difficult part of the rescue. Then,
to their surprise, the two who had come back to seek their friend,
heard a hail on the rim of the crater above them.
"What's the matter down there?" came the cry. "Do you want help!"
"You said it!" voiced Jimmy, vigorously.
"All right. Wait a minute. We'll be right down!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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