“Battery—On basic deflection—Right, One—Three—Zero—F. A. shell—I. A. L. fuse—Charge double zero—Site zero—One hundred rounds—At my command—Elevation five, six three,” shouted the executive officer.
There was grim silence in the gun-pits. A shell came tearing over and hit fifty yards from the first piece. Fragments and stones pattered down through the trees.
“F—I—R—E!” was the command.
Four flashes illuminated the night shadows and four guns loosened their brass tongues of thunder. The ground rocked. The air quivered. The pieces bayed and roared on like mad, fire-spitting animals. Joining their voices in the savage symphony of death that filled the woods they crowded that particular part of the world with an infernal clamor.
Down in the cozy mire of their gun-pit Jimmy McGee and his gang worked hands over fists to keep Betsy roaring. Almost ten months on the line had made them indifferent to enemy fire, especially if they were fighting back, so they labored on while the Hun missiles came tearing overhead, spilling their contents of death dangerously near.
O. D., working directly behind Jimmy, marveled at his pal’s coolness in adjusting sights and elevations, unconscious of the fact that he was almost as cool in his own work as Jimmy.
An explosion more terrific than any previous one shook the entire vicinity of the battery position. After the crash of bursting steel and iron had ended agonized cries were torn from the throats of suffering men. Piteous pleadings for aid filled the flame-shot night. Above the groans that were racked by pain a voice called out, “First piece out of order, sir.” A fit of coughing followed the report.
Spare men and the two Sanitary Corps men rushed to the pit of the first section where the shell had landed and demolished the gun while tearing the crew into lifeless or quivering wrecks of humans. Everything that could be done for the men was accomplished heedless of the incoming shells. Every moment brought an increasing number of shells into the immediate vicinity of the battery position. Trees were smashed and chewed to bits. Earth was thrown high into the air. Tree branches mingled with the shell splinters that rained down.
“Second section out of order, sir,” shouted the chief of that section. His gunner had reported that the bore would not stand another shot. The piece had been recommended for the mobile repair shop two weeks before.
“Second section, abandon your piece. Take cover,” ordered the executive officer, crowding data for the third and fourth piece on top of that command.