“Up and at ’em, fellows! Don’t give Jerry a chance to get anywhere near us!”
So the cries ran up and down the trenches, mingled with several orders and the cracking of rifles. Then the artillery, which had ceased for a moment, began again, this time with increased fury.
“I think we had better get out of here, boys,” announced Dave. “Never mind your tools. I guess all you’ll want just now will be your rifles. We’ll go as far as the entrance to the dugout, anyway.”
As the dugout and the entrance to it were not yet completed, it was no easy task to crawl up the wet and slippery slope leading to the trenches.
As requested by him, the top sergeant of the company had been transferred to another unit, and as Dave was next in rank to him, and as no one had been as yet appointed to fill poor Lieutenant Harney’s place, Dave was in command of the engineers left in the dugout.
It must be admitted that he felt his responsibility, the more so because the sudden alarm above had cut him off from communication with the first lieutenant or the captain. Some of the engineers attached to the signal corps had been stringing telephone wires along the trench to the dugout, but these were as yet not ready to be used.
As the engineers came up to the level of the trench above them they saw some fierce fighting not a great distance away. A fairly large body of German troops had come forward over a slight rise of ground and had taken a position behind a natural ridge of rocks. Off to one side a German machine-gun nest had been located, and from this the enemy was pouring a constant fire toward the Americans.
“We’re in for it, all right enough!” cried Roger.
“Boys, when you use your guns make every shot tell!” cried Dave to his little command. And then, of a sudden, he turned to face the crowd. “Are you with me in trying to do a bit of hazardous work that may count big for our side?” he questioned quickly.
“Sure we are!” cried Phil.