“If you think I’m going to stand round and be walked through and sat on, and all the indignities that ghosts must suffer, without getting back,” he said gloomily, “you can think again, Miss Tish!”
When the two men returned Tish gave them a brief talking-to.
“First of all,” she said, “there must be no mistake as to who is in command of this expedition. If we succeed it will be by finesse rather than force, and that is distinctly a feminine quality. Second, there is to be no unnecessary fighting. We are here to secure my nephew, not the German Army.”
The man we had bumped off the step of the ambulance, whose name proved to be Jim, said at once that that last sentence had relieved his mind greatly. A few prisoners wouldn’t put them out seriously, but the Allies were feeding more than they could afford already.
“But a few won’t matter,” he added. “Say, a dozen or so. They won’t kick on that.”
I have never learned where Tish learned her strategy—unless from the papers she took from the general’s cellar.
Military experts have always considered the plan masterly, I believe, and have lauded the mobility of a small force and the greater element of surprise possible, as demonstrated by the incidents which followed.
Briefly Tish adhered to her plan of making the attack seem a large one, by spreading the party over a large area and having it make as much noise as possible.
“By firing from one spot, and then running rapidly either to right or left, and firing again,” she said, “those who have only revolvers may easily appear to be several persons instead of one.”