“He’d better climb quick.”
Henri noted that some of the big mortars were trying for the airman, and he had learned that these mortars could throw a shell a mile or more in the air.
The aviator evidently was aware of the fact, too, for he went higher and higher, until the machine looked like a mere scratch in the sky.
The boys returned to the trenches with Rene Granger, a lad of eighteen, who had enlisted, he said, at Lorraine, and who had already won the rank of corporal in a French regiment.
The three were together when the colonel of Rene’s regiment called for a volunteer to carry the orders of the staff to the different companies. The colonel did not conceal the fact that the mission was one of great danger. The young corporal stepped forward, and offered his service. He listened attentively to the colonel’s instructions. Then with a quiet c’est bien (it is well), he started.
The boys saw him reach the first trench in safety and deliver his message.
The next stage of his journey was a dangerous one, for he had to pass over an open space of 300 yards, swept by the enemy’s fire. He went down on his hands and knees and crawled, only lifting his head in order to see his way.
Within a few yards of the trenches a bullet struck him in the thigh. He crept behind a tree, hastily dressed the wound, then dragged himself to the trench, where he delivered his message to the commander.
They tried to stop him there, but the boy refused.
“I have given my word,” he said.