"This isn't like any war that was ever fought before," declared Dunstan, at length, in meditative tones.
And then, as the aviator's son was about to reply, a most frightful—a most deafening detonation burst upon their ears.
Almost instantly a second explosion followed. The earth seemed to reel and shake—the whole air to be filled with an awful vibration. The terrified ambulanciers, gasping—staggering—were almost thrown to the ground.
[CHAPTER XII]
THE ATTACK
All about them soldiers were fairly hurling themselves into the dugouts, and the boys would have done the same had they not for the instant been too dazed,—too bewildered to make a move.
And as they stood there, open-mouthed, with staring eyes, gazing straight ahead, they saw a tremendous column of smoke rising menacingly; and mingling with it were tons and tons of earth, rocks and branches—a fear-inspiring, terrible, yet grand and majestic spectacle.
Higher and higher rose the mass; wider and wider it kept spreading out at the base, until a great space of the blue sky became entirely blotted from view. And branching out from the rounded form of the great column of smoke were spurts and jets furiously lashing, twisting and darting about in every conceivable direction.
The terror which held Don and Dunstan fast in their tracks was but momentary, and very fortunate indeed it was for them that this proved to be the case; for they had scarcely dived into a dugout close by before the surroundings were deluged by an avalanche of descending missiles, which fell with terrifying, smashing force, filling the air with the sounds of vicious thuds, crashes and bangs.