“Yes,” thought Kahl, “it’s amusing that we walk so slowly when we are right out in plain sight.” It struck him as odd that the line was not being fired upon, and then he explained it to himself by the notion that the heavy barrage had driven the enemy back. But what if it hadn’t—what if the Germans are just waiting until we get right almost into the woods. Wouldn’t that be a mess! And what a bore, this moping through the wet smoky wheat. He wondered whether his knees were bleeding. Curse it! His neck was stiff. Maybe he could limber it up if he shook his head.... No, it couldn’t be done. It didn’t work.
The first wave entered the woods where the enemy was without firing a shot or being fired at. The second wave entered, and the third, and the fourth.
Kahl, parting the leaves with his bayonet, unexpectedly looked out upon a clearing, and the sight he saw made him exclaim to the man next to him:
“Oh, Jimmy, this must be some joke. Look at all those fellows asleep there.”
In the clearing, lying flat on their backs, were five soldiers, their legs stretched out. They wore no shoes over their heavy woollen hose.
Hicks drew over toward him and looked.
“You better get down, you lumphead,” Hicks cautioned; “they aren’t asleep.”
Together they crawled out toward the motionless figures. By this time Lepere, Cole, and Pietrzak had come to the clearing and started to follow.
“Je-sus, Kahl! Here’s a fellow out of the Eighty-third Company that I enlisted with. And he’s dead as hell.”
Rat-t-t-t——