“We don’t know how strong the Germans may be there,” he said, “and it would not be very wise, it seems to me, if an offensive were made against greatly superior numbers intrenched, or within strong, defensive positions. But if we first try them out then we can——”
The captain did not wait for the lieutenant to finish, but suddenly turned to Herbert:
“I’d take a gamble on it and go over the hill,” the young officer suggested. “We can be pretty sure, judging from the enemy’s general distribution all along the line, that just at this point they do not greatly outnumber us; there can hardly be double our number. We are good for that many any day.”
Captain Lowden laughed joyfully and slapped his knee. He was a young fellow from Plattsburg and Camp Meade, an ex-football star, athletic in build, quick in his motions and decisions, stern, yet kindly toward his men and greatly loved by them. He had already proved his heroism near Vigneulles, during the St. Mihiel battle, when the German salient was being flattened. He gazed at his new second lieutenant in a manner that quite embarrassed that youthful officer; then the captain said:
“You’ll do! Your predecessor is in a hospital in Paris; I hope you don’t have to go there, but can stay with us. And I am blamed glad they pushed you right on through the replacement divisions and landed you here.”
“Oh, thank you! I—I—don’t——” But the captain paid no attention to Herbert’s stammering reply, and continued:
“And I hope the general tells the colonel to send us right on over the hill.”
Perhaps that is what the brigade commander did, or perhaps the colonel decided the matter on his own initiative; it would require a good deal of cross-questioning and then much guessing, probably, to determine these matters. Anyway, the battalion of four companies, each originally of two hundred and fifty men, but now considerably reduced, some of them to only half their number in spite of replacements from the reserve divisions in the rear, now advanced almost as though on parade, except that they were strung out, wide apart, making no attempt to keep in step.
And no sooner were they under way than the watchful enemy made the Yanks aware that their intentions were understood, for almost instantly the desultory firing of heavy shells and shrapnel aimed at our boys was increased tenfold. Added to this was the continuous roar of the latter’s own barrage, the combined American and French artillery sending over far more than shell for shell in the effort to cripple and stop the German field pieces and to chase the enemy to cover.
Of the four companies that composed the battalion advancing across this short open space with their objective the top of the slope between two wooded points, Captain Lowden’s company, composed mainly of very young men, proved to be the most rapid walkers. It appeared also that Whitcomb’s platoon, taking example from Herbert, speeded up until it was considerably in advance of those on either of its flanks. The advantage of this haste seemed evident: the abruptly rising ground and the fringe of trees at the top offered a natural shelter against the enemy fire. Thus only one larger shell landed and burst near enough to the platoon to do any harm, but that was a plenty. It tore a hole in the ground about a hundred feet behind Herbert and the flying pieces killed two privates, wounded two others, the concussion throwing several violently to the ground, the lieutenant among them.