With yells of savage delight it was received, and then there came a desperate dash that carried Jimmy and his friends, as well as those with him, well up toward the German lines.
Fierce and bloody was the fighting, and there was death in it, too, for many. But ever did the Americans press on, slowly but steadily driving back the Germans. On all sides great guns roared, and ears were nearly split with the riot of sound.
When night came it found our five Brothers occupying some of the trenches so long held by the Huns, who had been driven out. It was the start of the movement that was to clean the Boches from France.
Tired, weary, blood-stained, dirty, hungry and thirsty—that was the condition of all the fighters. And yet they would be ready to do it all over again the next day, after a little rest and food. And food they had, though not of the best.
"Sergeant Barlow and Corporal Dalton take listening post number seven," the sergeant-major ordered two of the Brothers, after what passed for supper. "Be on the alert. The Germans will very likely try a counter-attack."
Bob and Roger prepared for their dismal night trick. Franz and Iggy were sent to another part of the line, and Jimmy was on duty in the dugout, assisting the telephone operator.
The night settled down. It was comparatively quiet now in the trenches, in front of which barbed-wire entanglements had been hastily put up. The Germans had done the same, and between the stretches of wire another No Man's Land had been established.
Worn and weary, Roger and Bob waited for what they feared might happen. But as the hours passed, and there was no sign nor movement from the German lines, they began to think there would be no fighting.
Suddenly, however, the blackness of the night was broken by the red glare of a rocket.
"What's that?" cried Bob.