With a quick motion the artillery captain swung his outstretched arm downward. There was a roar, a flash, and a great shell tore through the air. Out in No Man's Land there was a second explosion as the shell hit, and the target—a flashlight—was blown to atoms.
Over in the German trenches a sentinel chuckled at the thought of another wasted American shell, but out of the hole that that shell had torn three pale, haggard, and exhausted youths were crawling to safety and God's fresh air. And across No Man's Land dashed two pals to greet them.
American determination and American marksmanship had saved three American lives. The German sentinel might have his laugh if he liked.
It was hours later before the three who had been imprisoned learned how their rescue had been effected; but they got an inkling of it as they came within four hundred yards of the American-French front.
"What are you doing?" Lieutenant Mackinson had asked, as Joe brought the party to a stop.
"Just a moment and you will see," Joe had responded.
And, first in wonder and then with a dawning understanding, the other three read off his flashed message:
"Signal Corps men, and whole party safe."