"Carry on!" he muttered. "Carry on!"
The words froze on his lips, for the world was suddenly consumed, it seemed, by flame and splitting, bellowing thunder.
he American guns spoke.
From every aerodrome long flights of scouts and bombers and transport planes roared upward.
In the front trenches the troops, still somewhat dazed by the earth-shaking explosion that had just tumbled from the far horizon—a horizon still lit by leaping tongues of awful flame—poured over the top, gas-masks on, repeaters and portable machine-guns at the ready, with a fierce cry on their lips.
Before that avenging attack the Slavs, their very spine broken, bewildered and confused, already turning in panic, could not stand.
America swept to the Pacific, and left death in her wake. And when she came to San Francisco, not even the sternest fighting men, still hot from battle, could repress a shudder, so awful was the devastation.
The Slav invasion was over!