Under Foch's Command: A Tale of the Americans in France

by F. S. Brereton

Even the phlegmatic Larry was forced to show some signs of enthusiasm. The very fact that this experienced sailor took up his idea so enthusiastically and approved of it was encouraging, and then who could escape the infection shed all around by the jovial enthusiastic Jack? The picture of the trawler steaming into Dover, a port to which Larry had never yet sailed, but which he could well imagine, the picture of the ship entering docks, the sides of which were lined with cheering soldiers and sailors and civilians, while behind her came that other trawler, no longer firing her gun, but a captive with a prize crew steering her in—— Well, Larry could picture that, and at the thought grinned widely.

But as yet there was the destroyer to be thought of. Not that she was doing much harm to the trawler up to this moment, for the other trawler immediately in pursuit of our friends was steering a course which placed her across the line of fire from the destroyer, which, still at some considerable distance, was unable to get a clear field of fire. As a matter of fact her captain hesitated from fear of injuring the pursuing vessel. But a few minutes more would give a clear field of vision, and aboard the destroyer all was in readiness to open upon Bill and his friends. Under such a bombardment no doubt their vessel would have been rapidly blown to pieces.

"I'd best just get along and see what sort of boats we're carrying," said Jack, when he and his two companions had stared at the two destroyers for a few minutes. "That there German is gettin' into position to put a broadside into us, and, if that comes off, this vessel will sink inside five minutes. We may want to be off without stopping to think about it. Best get things ready then, so as to leave her."

He went off down the steps leading from the bridge and mustered the deck hands about him. Every one of the men was now armed with a weapon of some description. Some had rifles, others revolvers, while not a few carried boarding-axes. They trapesed off along the deck to where a couple of boats swung out from the davits, and having assured themselves that both were in readiness to be launched, and as yet undamaged, certain of them dived below in search of food and water to provision them. In the midst of their search they were recalled to the deck by Jack, who descended a few steps down the companion and bellowed at them.

"Hi, lads, you come above again!" he yelled. "We're goin' to put ourselves on board the trawler. I wants every man that's got a rifle to come over here and take up a position; the chaps as has axes only'll lie down behind the bulwarks. When the time comes, every one of you goes over on to the other boat. Now, I tell you, we're goin' to take her!"

The men crowded round him yelling like maniacs. These whilom prisoners, so depressed but a short time before, who had given themselves up to the thought of long incarceration in a German prison, were now filled with the highest spirits. They mustered on the deck brandishing their weapons, took up places which Jack assigned to them, and then, casting their eyes first at Bill and Larry on the bridge above, and then over the side at the trawler, they yelled themselves hoarse once more as they saw that their own vessel had turned about and was heading direct for their pursuer.

The man at the wheel, too, had caught something of their excitement, though he sat there impassive, steering the vessel with care and judgment, making ready to fling her alongside the other. As for the German trawler, great movement could be observed on her decks; men were rushing to and fro, while a figure on the bridge was gesticulating violently, though the words he shouted could not be heard. In any case, the gun in her bows, which had fired only a little while before, had ceased abruptly as Bill gave the order to swing his vessel round, and its crew had scuttled along the deck to join their comrades.

Not so the three who manned the gun aboard the ship on which our heroes were sailing. They waited only for their trawler to swing round, when they laid their gun on the other vessel, and then in rapid succession poured in shots, some of which screamed over her deck, while others holed her above the water, or crashed their way through her bulwarks scattering splinters along her decks. Indeed, it was the fire of these enthusiastic fellows which mainly beat down the resistance of the Germans. A lucky shot took away a portion of the bridge and killed the skipper, a splinter at the same time tearing the wheel from the hands of the man who steered the trawler and wrecking it. She swung off her course at once, while Bill's ship, conned by that impassive steersman before mentioned, swung round in a circle and headed so as to come alongside her.