"Take that handkerchief from your face," Jimmy commanded of Schnitzel. "Where's your first-aid packet?"
"Gone. Used it on one of my men. It didn't do him much good. He went West in my arms. This beauty spot on my cheek is nothing much."
Schnitzel's joy at seeing his friends vanished from his face, leaving it doubly somber.
"I've only one whole man in my squad," he said. "Curse the Boches!"
"Amen!" agreed Roger savagely. "They lost me two good men. They certainly soaked it to the fire trench."
"We went 'em one better," exulted Schnitzel. "Their artillery isn't in it with ours. It's a wonder they didn't slam their own fire trench. Some of those shells were aimed by Boche tailors, I guess. They certainly went wild. But, oh, Boy! What our batteries did to their trench was beautiful! Wish we'd gone over the top. We could have taken their first trench easy as wink."
"That's what I thought," put in Roger. "I expected every minute to get the order to go after 'em."
"We're too green yet, I suppose, for that," was Jimmy's opinion. "This stretch in the trenches is really our practice turn. Next time in, maybe, we'll get a chance to leg it across No Man's Land."
"That's what the Boches had up their sleeve," declared Schnitzel. "They've been on pins to find out our strength and all that. They haven't got much of a line on the Sammies yet. They'll know more about us when we get through with 'em, those that are left alive."