Even the crack Prussian Guards, the flower of the German army, had been decisively beaten by the Americans at Chateau-Thierry. Hurled into the battle at the last moment in an attempt to stem the advance of American soldiers and marines, they had proved unequal to the task. The Yankees had proved their masters at every turn.
There was nothing for the Germans to do but retreat. This they did, slowly, contesting every inch of the ground. Gradually, however, their retreat became faster, and at some places it developed into utter rout.
Late in July of 1918 the enemy had been cleared from the greater part of France and Belgium. In fact, in Alsace-Lorraine, American troops were on German soil and threatening the strong fortresses of Metz and Strassburg. Germans had been cleared from the Argonne forest, which, in the enemy's possession, had proved one of the greatest menaces to the allied advance.
It appeared that the time was drawing near for a decisive blow by Marshal Foch.
The time was to come sooner than either Hal or Chester could possibly have conceived, and both boys were to bear a full burden of the fighting.
At the quarters of Colonel O'Neil, Hal and Chester waited a few moments before being ushered into the former's presence. But their time came eventually, and they hurried into Colonel O'Neil's office and stood at attention.
Colonel O'Neil looked up.
"Well, how do you feel, Major?" he asked of Hal.
"Pretty well, sir."
"Good. And you, Major Crawford?"