"All right, funny-face."
"Consider yourself a prisoner," was the final word of the N.C.O. as they went forward on the rush. Bill wished for more than a round of blank.
Section after section took up a new line. Then the rushes started again. All the time the rifles were spitting out their fire. They reached within fifty yards of the outpost line. As this was simply a protective screen, and not the line of resistance, the enemy's outpost companies commenced to fade away systematically in the direction of their main body.
"Prepare to charge," ordered the officer.
"With bayonets?" queried Bill.
"No," he snapped.
"Wot's a bloomin' bayonet for?" asked Bill when the officer was out of hearing.
"For openin' jam tins, ye fathead," said Paddy.
"Charge!" The long line rose like one man. With a great cheer they swept away the remnants of the outpost companies and occupied the ridge. This gave the Australians a complete view of the main position. Both flanks rested on impassable obstacles. The front was secured by imaginary entanglements, backed up by a series of trenches and an array of Maxims and guns. This was the information required by the Australian G.O.C. The reconnaissance had served its purpose. The "Assembly" was sounded, and the field day seemed done.
But war is full of surprises, and it is the surprises which make or mar a general's name. While General Fearless and his force were rallying for lunch all were suddenly surprised by a fearful roll of musketry on the right.