It was three days after Hal and Chester had returned from their mission for General Pershing. Soon after the American commander had communicated to Marshal Foch the results of the lads’ work, he had ordered them south to General Bundy’s two divisions of marines, which for several days had been encamped some distance from the front. The lads had delivered dispatches from the American commander-in-chief to General Bundy and had been detailed to the Sixth Regiment. There, much to their surprise, they encountered their old friends, Lieutenants Smith and Jenkins, and Bowers, who had been promoted to a top sergeancy.
All were delighted with the reunion and the marines expressed their satisfaction when they learned Hal and Chester had been promoted.
“It’s probably a bit irregular to have you with us, sir,” Sergeant Bowers said to Hal, “but we’re glad you’re here.”
“I’ll tell you something, sergeant,” said Hal, with a knowing wink. “It will be only a matter of hours now until we move to the front.”
“Is that so, sir?” asked Bowers. “Well, it can’t be too soon for me. I’ve had one crack at these Huns, but up to date the marines haven’t been in sufficient strength to show what we can do. But,” and his eyes swept the large encampment, “there are enough of us here to run Fritz to death if they give us a chance.”
“Practically eighteen thousand men,” Chester agreed.
“Let’s hope we get another crack at them soon, sir,” said Bowers.
The chance was to come sooner than even Hal or Chester had believed possible.
It was on the evening of June 15 that the marines suddenly received orders to march. This was the day following the arrival of Hal and Chester at General Bundy’s headquarters.
The lads had been much impressed with General Bundy upon sight; and he was not to lose caste in their eyes; for, as it developed, here was the man who was to be mainly responsible for the launching of the great Allied offensive.