With the clearing of the remnants of the garrison the victorious Tommies began to put the shell-tortured ground into a state of defence. They were now well astride the vaunted Hindenburg Line, and it was pretty certain that the Huns would make a strong and determined counter-attack in order to attempt to wrest the position from the victors. The attack would be soon—before the British heavy guns could be moved forward, and already the railway corps were placing sections of rails in position to enable the twelve- and fourteen-inch monsters to be sent forward. Once they were in position the Von der Golz was lost for good and all to the Huns, and they knew it.
There was no rest for the Tanks that had escaped being placed hors de combat. Orders were given for the landships to push ahead and hold the counter-attacking force in check.
"Independent action, you know," remarked the commanding officer of the Landship Section. "So out you go, and the very best of luck."
Ralph knew what that meant. It was one of the most hazardous enterprises that a Tank could be called upon to perform. With a quickening of his pulses he gave the word for the motors to be started once more and steered his armoured mobile fortress in the direction of the unknown territory that for the last two years or more had been firmly held by the Huns.
"By Jove! Alderhame," he exclaimed, "we're on a big thing this time. Wouldn't miss it for worlds."
"Let's hope we won't," added Sergeant Alderhame grimly. "The present world is quite good enough for me for a long time to come, Boches notwithstanding."
CHAPTER XXI
TRAPPED
""'Old 'ard, chapses; 'old 'ard!"