The dilapidation of the Boche fire trench gave the Sammies the opportunity for which they had been waiting. They now began to pour a hot rifle and machine-gun fire at the enemy, inflicting heavy casualties. The German batteries immediately got busy with smoke shells and soon hung a curtain of heavy smoke in front of their lines, which completely obstructed a view of their trenches.
Through the smoke the Sammies continued to harass the foe, until the order came to cease firing. Though the Americans had suffered a good many casualties, the Germans had clicked a far greater number. Their proposed raid had ended in a sound drubbing for them. When night again fell they would have the pleasure of mending the wires they had been in such a hurry to cut, provided they did not make a second attempt to raid within the next few hours.
Of late these night raids had become a new feature in the war. Beginning with a heavy bombardment, the attacking troops would dash over the top, take the enemy trenches, make thorough search of them, capturing as many prisoners and machine guns as possible. Instead of occupying the trenches taken, these would be destroyed by fire or dynamite, the victors returning to their own lines.
It was such a raid as this that the Germans had been on the point of making. Thanks to the efficient work of the American batteries, they had not been able to carry it out.
When it was all over and comparative quiet had again settled down on both sides, Jimmy Blaise was amazed to find himself not only alive but unhurt. Through those terrible hours he had seen comrades dropping on both sides of him, yet, somehow, he had come through that raging hail of shot and shell unscathed. He marveled that, while it had been going on, he had worked like a tiger at helping rebuild the shattered defenses without a thought that he might be living his last moments of life.
After firing a final shot and getting down from the fire step, he stared about in a half-dazed fashion. To and fro through the fire trench stretcher-bearers moved continually, bearing the shell-shattered soldiers away through the communication trenches to first-aid posts. Many a bloody form lifted gently to the stretchers was beyond human aid.
Jimmy's first coherent thoughts centered on his own men. He must find out what had happened to them. Pulling himself together he began an investigation. He soon discovered that he had lost four of them for good and all. Several others had been seriously wounded. Like himself a few had come out of the fray untouched. For a time he busied himself in doing what he could for the wounded, until relieved by the first-aid men.
The aroma of coffee in the air brought him to a dim realization that it was breakfast time. He was not hungry. Who could be after seeing those broken, bloody shapes being lifted to the stretchers? He felt as though he would not be able to eat for a week afterward.
"Thank God, Blazes, you're not one of 'em!"
A friendly hand clutched his arm.