Read Ebook: The Boy Volunteers with the British Artillery by Ward Kenneth

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Ebook has 1236 lines and 38177 words, and 25 pages

They walked down the rue Rivoli, passed through the place de la Concorde, and reached the Champs Elysees in a half daze. Soldiers were moving hither and thither, vehicles of every description, Red Cross vans, and even cavalry squads were in the procession, but none of them seemed to attract their attention, so completely were they absorbed in the last episode of their lives, and, besides, they had seen so many of the trappings of war that a few more or less did not seem to cause much of a ripple.

But as they slowly moved along the street they stopped, as by a common impulse, to witness a procession of machine guns mounted on smart little autos, followed by two full batteries of field guns. The artillery pieces were mounted on specially made auto trucks, and trailing behind each truck was the caisson.

"Now, that looks like business," said Ralph. "It would have taken from eight to twelve horses to pull the gun and ammunition around. Gee! how soon those fellows could get into action and pull out when the command is given!"

"That would suit me about as well as the flyers, but I suppose we haven't an earthly chance to get in on that," said Alfred ruefully.

"Why not? We can get there if we try hard enough," responded Ralph.

Alfred, with his eyes intent on the fine display before him, did not respond. The discharge, honorable though it was, made a sore spot in the heart of each.

The following morning they awoke earlier than usual. The usual topic was again taken up and discussed.

"Suppose we take a trip to the Artillerie Ecole?" remarked Alfred.

"Where is it?" asked Ralph.

"I don't know, myself, but it is across the river, somewhere. It was founded by the first Napoleon; it was always his hobby," said Alfred.

"Yes, I know. It was he who said that God was always on the side that had the heaviest artillery," responded Ralph.

"I don't think he would say so if he lived in the present time," answered Alfred.

"Why not?" asked Ralph.

"Why, he would have said 'With the most airplanes,'" suggested Alfred.

Ralph laughed at the new idea. "Well, you may be right. I think that if the Allies would put more money and energy into flying machines and less in big guns, there would be more likelihood of success; but I don't suppose we ought to know it all," said Ralph with a sarcastic grin.

When they arrived at the artillery school they were still garbed in the uniforms indicating the service in which they had been engaged. A kindly professor, in the uniform of a colonel, received them with smiles, and he questioned them about their work, and to him they confided their wishes.

"You have been granted honorable discharges, and it would not be prudent for me to make any recommendations, however meritorious your services might have been," he remarked. After some reflection he continued:

"If you are really bent on going back and entering the artillery branch, it would be well to apply to the English officials. They are preparing a tremendous organization in that direction."

"Thank you," said Ralph. "We shall, probably, act upon your suggestion."

Returning to the hotel the question was again considered, and the decision formed to depart for the British sector at once. That afternoon they emerged from the hotel and wended their way to the Gard du Nord, as the great northwest station of Paris is known. There two tickets were purchased for Amiens, a town eighty miles north, by railway, as they considered they would be able, probably, to get into contact with the British forces at that point.

It was late in the morning when the train rolled into the city, and seizing their haversacks, the boys were quickly out of the train and ranged up alongside the military restaurant, awaiting an opportunity to be served. They were informed that a movement of great importance was going on in the sector directly east of that point, as was indicated by the vast number of field pieces, which were constantly being transported by motor and lorry.

It was, really, the beginning of the combined English and French drive in the Somme region, as it is now known. A dapper little French sergeant, who sat between them, volunteered much of the information, which they were eager to obtain, as to the localities and disposition of the forces.

"My battery was detrained at Moreil yesterday, and they will come north and cross the canal about eight kilometers east of the city," he remarked, in response to their questionings.

"That is the branch of the service we are anxious to join," said Alfred.

"What? after having had a hand with the flyers?" he asked, as he looked at them quizzically.

"Yes; our best friend was killed, and then the doctor at the hospital was so much interested in us as to get us discharged," responded Ralph.

"But the artillery is a tough place; you've got to rough it and stand an awful lot of pounding. Why, in the Champagne region, where we came from at the time we made the five-mile sweep, we went ahead so fast that the commissary couldn't keep up with us, and we were in the fight at one stretch for more than seventy hours, and with little to eat at that."

That was said not in a boastful way, but merely to impress on them the hard lot of an artilleryman.

"I suppose that is so," remarked Alfred. "But that's what the infantry men say; and the air pilots think they have a particularly tough time of it, and even the Red Cross people are in danger all the time; but that's to be expected."

"Oh, if you're bound to go, there will be plenty to do, but the chances of getting in are pretty slim unless by regular enlistment."

THE FIGHT IN DEVIL'S CUT

One of the important canals in northern France starts from the English Channel, near Abbeville, and parallels the Somme river, passing through Amiens, extending thence to Peronne, within the German lines. It was an important artery for the transportation of munitions and heavy ordnance directly to the front.

When, two hours after the conversation related in the last chapter, the sergeant hunted around for means of conveyance to the section where his battery was to reach the canal, the boys accompanied him. Accommodations were finally secured on one of the many vans which lined the highway, and before noon the sergeant informed them that, as they were approaching the great highway leading to Corbie, he would have to bid them good-bye, as that was the point designated for the battery to ship on the canal.

The boys debated the question, whether to remain or proceed to the front, and finally decided to continue their journey. But before proceeding two miles further the procession of loaded trucks halted, and the work of unloading began. They had reached the last permanent depot near the fighting line, but what to do now was the question. They were no nearer the object of their desires than when they left Paris.

"I wonder why they are loading up that truck?" asked Ralph, as they glanced at several power machines close by. "Those boxes are going to the front, I am sure."

"Want any help!" asked Alfred.

"That's always welcome," said one of the men.

"All right, then," said Alfred, "here goes. Which boxes do you want first?"

They had already learned that there is nothing so welcome in the busy front as willingness to lend a hand. It is the open sesame to friendship and advancement.

"Where are you bound?" asked Ralph, as they marched to and fro.

"Right up to the front. These things must reach the 14th battery before night," was the reply.

Each of these trucks carried two tons of provisions, loads greatly in excess of the weights for which they were built, but that was of no consequence. The fighters must have something to eat, whatever happened. When the last boxes were piled up the boys remained on the truck, and the driver, nodding at them pleasantly, threw in the clutch and speeded out the road to the east.

"How long have you been at this business?" asked Ralph.

"Three months," was the reply.

"How do you like the job?" asked Alfred.

"I like anything that will help the boys at the front," was the reply.

"Is this your regular business?" asked Ralph.

"Well, no, not exactly," he replied. "I didn't have any regular business before the war, but when it came along I went back into the army, and I would be there now if the Boches hadn't permanently lamed me; you see I can't quite get my right leg to straighten out. But it's all right; we saved France at the Marne, and I'd give the other leg to give them another such a licking as they got there."

"Let me relieve you," said Alfred after the second hour.

"Why, yes; an offer like that would be acceptable," he replied, as he rose from his seat.

In all their conversation the man had the aspect of a true gentleman, and he was certainly out of his element, in that menial position. Later the boys learned from the assistant on the truck that Loree was the son of a nobleman, and after having been invalided he insisted on taking his place in the capacity where he might be most useful.

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