The engagement into which American troops and American marines now entered bore more resemblance to old-time open fighting than anything Hal and Chester had seen in months.
A short distance ahead, the German line had halted and drawn up in close battle formation. Upon this human rock the Yankees hurled themselves with reckless abandon and wild cheers. One, two, three volleys they fired at the Germans as they charged and then they were upon the enemy with the bayonet.
The German line withstood the first onrush and the Americans were stopped. But in spite of their losses, they were not to be denied, and they dashed forward again.
By this time Hal and Chester had reached the ranks in front and pressed into the thick of the conflict. A few moments later Bowers ranged himself alongside of them. The lads greeted him with a nod; they had no time for words.
So close were the American soldiers together that for the space of a few moments it was impossible for them to wield their bayonets with the greatest effect. All they could do was to press ahead with the bayonets shoved out in front of them. But this condition was soon remedied. The men spread out fanwise, thus giving them better opportunity for using their weapons.
The clash of the bayonets could be heard above the roar of small arm fire and even above the cheering of the Yankees. For their part, the Germans fought silently and stubbornly.
Hal caught the point of a stabbing bayonet upon his own weapon and averted the thrust that otherwise must have pierced his throat. Before the German who had delivered it could recover his poise, Hal’s bayonet had found its mark and the man fell to the ground to rise no more.
Chester, meanwhile, had accounted for two of the enemy and had not been touched himself. Bowers, once more in the heat of the conflict, was fighting like a superman, thrusting right and left with almost miraculous rapidity.
The German line wavered along its entire length. The Americans, unconsciously feeling that victory was within their grasp, pressed forward with even greater ferocity.
Suddenly, to Hal’s right, fully fifty Germans threw down their guns as a single man, and, raising their hands high above their heads, shouted “Kamerad” almost in unison.