Chapter XVI: The Dug-Out

Jacques immediately sprang back to his former position in the alcove beside the machine-gun. Lucky it was for him that he did so. The hand-grenade exploded and the ceiling which already was greatly weakened speedily collapsed.

Plaster, furniture, rafters and men poured down in a mass. The force of the explosion had literally torn the ceiling to pieces and, the supports gone, it collapsed at once.

"Anyone left up there?" shouted Armande.

"Not a soul," replied Jacques quickly. "Watch out below though."

Many of the Germans were buried deep under the mass of débris on the floor. Here and there an arm appeared and the French were busily engaged in extricating their enemies from the heap. Seven men were taken out alive, suffering only from bruises; four more were captured badly wounded and six were found dead.

"Well I guess the fight's over," sighed Armande when the Germans had been deprived of their weapons and the pile had been thoroughly searched for any more bodies.

"Seems to be," agreed Jacques. "How about these men?" he asked, as he spoke, indicating the prisoners that had been taken.

"We'll take them back to our trenches of course," said Armande.

A few moments later the little band had left the ruined château and were on their way back to their lines. The struggle was still continuing violently and both sides were fighting desperately for possession of the disputed positions.

Arriving in the trenches Armande, Jacques, Lippen and the others soon found their regiment and having turned over their prisoners were quickly in the fighting again. Leon, Earl and Dubois were posted side by side and Armande and Jacques joined them at once.

"We thought you were dead, Jacques," cried Leon, delighted to see his comrade once more. "Where did you come from?"

The story was quickly told and just as it was completed the officer who had directed Jacques to set off the mine-field approached the place in which the boys were standing.

"Young man!" he exclaimed heartily, catching sight of Jacques, "you did splendid work. You saved our lines and made possible this counter-attack. You disappeared though and I feared you had been lost."

"I saw our men coming forward and I could not resist the temptation to join them, sir," said Jacques modestly.

"Well, I'm glad to see you again," said the officer. "We need men like you."

"They're all as good if not better," exclaimed Jacques earnestly.

"That's right too," agreed the officer. "Every Frenchman is a hero in these days of trouble."

He passed on and Jacques turned again to his comrades.

"Tell me," he exclaimed, "what has happened here?"

"Everything," said Earl grimly. "They certainly did pepper us and it was only a few minutes before you came back that they let up at all."

"They're still fairly busy I should say," remarked Jacques.

The shells were bursting all around in endless succession but fortunately the fire of the German batteries was directed mostly upon the positions to the right and left of those occupied by the _douzième_.

"They'll hit us before long," remarked Dubois.

"What do you mean?" asked Earl. "A counter-attack?"

"I think so. They may not try it to-day but they surely will some time to-night; the Boches are getting so they like to fight in the dark now."

"Perhaps it's because they can't see the bayonets so well," laughed Armande. "They don't care much about cold steel, do they?"

"I should say not," agreed Dubois. "It's funny too for they are certainly brave enough when it comes to facing shells and machine-guns."

"Hand-to-hand work isn't suited to Germans, I guess," said Leon. "You never heard of a German being a good boxer either; they don't seem to be much good at things that need quick thinking and action."

"Germans are good athletes though," exclaimed Earl.

"In certain sports they are," Leon agreed. "They're good wrestlers and gymnasts and that sort of thing. I say that they're strong but they're not athletic. The strongest fellows aren't always the best athletes, you know."

Meanwhile the guns boomed constantly. The shells from the French guns were exploding far in advance of the positions the _douzième_ now occupied.

"They're probably shelling the ground where the Germans are trying to dig new trenches," said Dubois.

"I hope they hit 'em," exclaimed Leon fervently.

There were many dug-outs along the line of the trench. Some of them were shell-proof and were fifteen to twenty feet below the surface of the ground; the entrance to these was through a door, level with the floor of the trench. A stairway, just wide enough to permit one man to pass, led down to them. The roofs were reinforced with huge timbers and so strongly were they constructed that most of them were intact, despite the heavy bombardment to which they had been subjected.

"Have you seen these dug-outs?" Leon inquired of Jacques.

"No, I haven't."

"Come along then and I'll show them to you," exclaimed Leon. "Some of them are regular palaces."

"I doubt that," laughed Jacques as the two boys set out together.

They inspected a dug-out similar to the one described above. Then they discovered others, larger but only slightly lower than the trenches.

"Look at them," exclaimed Leon. "They must have used these for living quarters when things were quiet."

"I guess they did," agreed Jacques. "If they're all like this they're pretty good size too; this one must be six feet wide and nearly thirty feet long."

"See those logs on the ceiling; they're a foot in diameter at least."

"Yes, but they're not shell-proof. They have to be deeper in the ground than this to be safe from high explosive shells."

The two young soldiers continued along the trench. Many of the dug-outs, similar to that they had just left, were in ruins. Jacques was correct when he said they were not proof against the big shells. Most of them were destroyed, the logs splintered to kindling-wood and strewn far and wide over the ground.

"Where does this lead, do you suppose?" demanded Leon suddenly.

"Let's follow it and see," exclaimed Jacques readily.

A blind alley ran off from the main trench and it was this that the two boys were following. There was a narrow doorway at the end of the alley and through this they advanced.

"Another dug-out, I suppose," said Jacques.

"Looks like a real one," exclaimed Leon. "Whew!" he whistled in amazement as he descended the stairs and stepped out into the underground room.

"Say," said Jacques warmly, "some general must have lived here."

"I should think as much," agreed Leon. "Just look around you; rugs on the floor, pictures and mirrors on the wall."

"And a wonderful stove; let's make some tea," cried Jacques eagerly.

"Where's the tea?"

"There must be some here; there seems to be everything else."

A short search soon produced tea and crackers; a fire was started in the stove and water was put on to boil. Tea was always in demand by the soldiers; it was their favorite beverage in the trenches.

"Isn't this great?" exclaimed Leon. "War wouldn't be so bad if we only had places like this to live in."

"Did you notice that there were two entrances?" asked Jacques.

"Yes, one at each end. I suppose that's in case the trench should cave in and block up one passage-way you could still get out the other side."

"Pull up a chair, Leon," exclaimed Jacques. "We might as well be comfortable as long as we can."

The two soldiers sat by the fire and sipped their tea and chatted. Now and again a dull roar told them that the Germans were still busy and that they still had their opponents, the French, in mind.

"Do you suppose we could be hurt down here?" remarked Leon.

"If one of those big German shells happened to strike squarely over us I guess we'd be hurt all right," said Jacques.

"It would have to be a direct hit though."

"That's true and I don't believe there is much chance of its happening. This seems to me about the safest spot I've seen."

"Too bad the others don't know about it," said Leon.

"Listen," warned Jacques. "Here comes somebody now."

A moment later six soldiers filed into the dug-out. They were men from the _douzième_, but belonged to a different company from that of which Leon and Jacques were members.

"Come in," cried Jacques cordially. "Have some tea."

No second invitation was needed and the eight soldiers were soon grouped around the fire, sipping canteens of hot tea. Everyone was as enthusiastic as Leon and Jacques had been and life seemed worth while once more. The time was short, however; it soon became necessary for our two young friends to leave and go back to their post.

They said good-by to their comrades and made their way outside. Coming to the little alley that led to the dug-out they stopped and listened to the artillery duel.

"The Germans are tuning up again," remarked Jacques.

"They certainly are," agreed Leon. "Did you ever notice how you can tell from the sound a shell makes going through the air just what kind it is?"

"Yes, and you can judge their direction and where they're going to fall too."

Suddenly Jacques grasped Leon fiercely by the arm. "Look out," he cried in terror, and threw himself and his companion prone upon the floor of the trench.

He had heard a sound which he knew meant danger and possibly death; the awful whistling roar of a high explosive.