"First thing to do is to settle the matter of rank," he announced, crisply. "I'm First Lieutenant Randolph, of...." "Rank, eh?" The seated one grinned and spat out the butt of his cigarette. "But then, it was important to me, too, when I was a first lieutenant--about the time that you were born. Slayton, Major-General." "Oh ... excuse me, sir...." "Skip it. How many men you got, and what are they?" "Seven, sir. We brought in a wire from Inf...." "A _wire_! Hellanddamnation, why haven't you got it with you, then? Get it!" The crestfallen officer disappeared; the general turned to Kinnison and the sergeant. "Have you got any ammunition, sergeant?" "Yes, sir. About thirty belts." "Thank God! We can use it, and you. As for you, Captain, I don't know...." The wire came up. The general seized the instrument and cranked. "Get me Spearmint ... Spearmint? Slayton--give me Weatherby.... This is Slayton ... yes, but ... No, but I want ... Hellanddamnation, Weatherby, shut up and let me talk--don't you know that this wire's apt to be cut any second? We're on top of Hill Fo-wer, Ni-yun, Sev-en--that's right--about two hundred men; maybe three. Composite--somebody, apparently, from half the outfits in France. Too fast and too far--both flanks wide open--cut off ... Hello! Hello! Hello!" He dropped the instrument and turned to Kinnison. "You want to go back, Captain, and I need a runner--bad. Want to try to get through?" "Yes, sir." "First phone you come to, get Spearmint--General Weatherby. Tell him Slayton says that we're cut off, but the Germans aren't in much force nor in good position, and for God's sake to get some air and tanks in here to keep them from consolidating. Just a minute. Sergeant, what's your name?" He studied the burly non-com minutely. "Wells, sir." "What would you say ought to be done with the machine-guns?" "Cover that ravine, there, first. Then set up to enfilade if they try to come up over there. Then, if I could find any more guns, I'd...." "Enough. Second Lieutenant Wells, from now. GHQ will confirm. Take charge of all the guns we have. Report when you have made disposition. Now, Kinnison, listen. I can probably hold out until tonight. The enemy doesn't know yet that we're here, but we are due for some action pretty quick now, and when they locate us--if there aren't too many of their own units here, too--they'll flatten this hill like a table. So tell Weatherby to throw a column in here as soon as it gets dark, and to advance Eight and Sixty, so as to consolidate this whole area. Got it?" "Yes, sir." "Got a compass?" "Yes, sir."