The Brighton Boys at St. Mihiel

by James R. Driscoll

BY short stretches the Germans and their three American prisoners had been pushing forward now for nearly two hours. The Huns were not in ignorance of their own danger of capture, and their progress was made with the utmost caution, the major number, with Tom, Ollie and George, forming a central party, ahead of, behind and on either side of which scouts reconnoitered constantly to avoid contact with American outposts.

Even in the silence and secrecy that was necessary in that cautious advance, the American youths had more than a taste of Hun treachery and brutality. Apparently the Germans knew that their prisoners were hungry, from having overheard their remarks immediately after their capture. They were made aware of their parched thirst when the lads asked for water.

And to aggravate their misery so far as possible, although the lads were too proud to let it be seen that the acts even annoyed them, the Germans, singly and in pairs, would walk directly in front of or beside them, munching thick slices of their own brutal-looking brown, or rather black, bread, or thrust the opening of a water bottle to the lips of one of them, only to withdraw it quickly with a low laugh when the youths thus sorely tempted would try to get at least a swallow of the craved water.

“They’re barbarians; they are without human instincts or feelings,” Tom hissed into the ear of Ollie, who walked in the middle of the trio, “so try not to mind anything they do. Our best course is to ignore what they do in their efforts to punish us, and to avoid aggravating them any further.”

At that moment Harper stumbled over a fallen tree branch and fell to the ground, splintering and crashing the dead wood.

A gutteral oath just behind him was accompanied by a sharp bayonet jab in the ribs. Harper was about to let out an involuntary cry of mingled pain and anger when Tom, who well enough knew the result would be more punishment, cautioned him, “Say nothing.” The Boche, who did not understand English, peered at the sergeant inquiringly through the darkness, but as Harper got up he did nothing worse than give him a vigorous shove forward.

They were now closely skirting a long fringe of wood that seemed to run almost directly northeast and southwest, and even the men who were stretched out ahead and on either side as “feelers” for the American forces kept well within its shadows, for the rising moon was bathing the whole countryside in its light, and objects, particularly if they were moving, could be discerned at a considerable distance. Occasionally they came upon the body of a dead soldier, the stark and staring eyes acquiring an added touch of ghastliness in the pale lunar light.

Occasionally the dull hum of an aeroplane motor would be heard in the distance, its sound rising to a roar as it approached and passed, but practically all the time it was within hearing the small band of Germans remained in hiding among the trees, and although sometimes the lads could see the machines so plainly that it seemed they might attract attention to themselves with a shout, they never were discovered by the pilots or their observers.

As this continued, and the distance covered made it seem as though they must now be paralleling, if not actually already by, the American lines, the youths became more and more depressed. The aeroplanes passed above them without knowing they were there, and thus far not a single American patrol had been encountered. The outlook was not encouraging. It began to look as though Tom Walton, George Harper and Ollie Ogden were to be ushered out of hostilities and into a German prison camp for the duration of the war.

Without a spoken word, but in glances as eloquent as any speech, the young men questioned one another as to the possibilities of escape; but though each cast about desperately in quest of what might look like the slightest promise or the smallest opportunity, none presented, and the three tramped on, striving to go along so quietly and unobtrusively as to allay all suspicion upon the part of their captors that they might even be contemplating escape. Each felt that if they could succeed in this, then the Germans might become less watchful, and perhaps, later on, when the Huns were more weary with their tramp and constant caution of attracting attention to themselves, they might drop behind and not be missed until they had made good their escape.