Chapter XV: The Observation Post

Harry reached the divisional headquarters without further mishap, and delivered his despatch. The rider who had come by the long way had not arrived. It was more than half an hour later when he at last rode in, and explained that he had been delayed at several points by congestion of traffic.

Meanwhile Harry had obtained leave to ride back and bring in his companion, whom he expected to meet within a mile or two. Evening was coming on; heavy clouds were heaping themselves in the western sky, hastening the dark. Harry had only the vaguest idea of the locality of the spot where he had caught a momentary glimpse of Kenneth, and after riding for some distance, untroubled by attentions from the German gunners, without meeting him, he began to feel uneasy. The sight of the abandoned motor bicycle increased his misgiving. Turning at the bridle path he rode back very slowly, closely scanning both sides of the road. At length he descried, in the failing light, a body lying half in, half out of the ditch. He jumped off his machine and hastened to the prostrate form, dreading to find that his friend was killed. But a moment's examination sufficed to reassure him. The heart was still beating. A few drops from his flask revived Kenneth, who sat up, a deplorable object, caked with mud from head to foot.

"How do you feel, old man?" asked Harry anxiously.

"Ugh!" grunted Kenneth. "Is my collar-bone broken?"

"Not a bit of it, or you couldn't move your neck like that. Can you get up?"

"Give me a hand."

He rose slowly to his feet.

"Is my skull cracked?" he asked. "Where's my cap?"

Harry picked it up, and put it on his head after feeling all over the skull.

"Just pinch me up and down the legs, will you?" said Kenneth.

"I don't think there's anything wrong," said Harry after pressing all the joints and muscles.

"Then I've cost the Germans a good few pounds for nothing. I'm horribly dizzy; feel as if a whole rugger team had been over me. You got through to headquarters?"

"Yes. But look here, I'll tell you about it presently. D'you think you could stick on the carrier? The sooner we get out of this the better."

"Let me walk a little first. I'm rather top-heavy at present. You got there first?"

"Yes."

"Good man! 'Fraid we'd both muff it.... Is my face as dirty as my hands?"

"My dear child, your face is all right. If you talk like that I shall be certain you are cracked."

"All right, old man; only I was thinking of your face, you know. I don't mind so long as we are both pretty much alike."

"Well now, hop on, and I'll go fairly slowly. If you feel inclined to tumble off, sing out and I'll catch you before you fall."

Kenneth, however, managed to maintain his seat on the carrier, and the two rode into headquarters just before absolute dark. They were given a billet for the night, and told to return to their regiment as best they could next day. Luckily able to get a bath, they were then provided with supper, and Harry had an opportunity of telling at his ease how he had managed to save the situation.

"You see, after I had put him down with the Hikiotoshi----"

"I nearly rolled off with laughing when you sang that out," Kenneth interrupted. "How delighted old Kishimaru would be! I must write and tell him about it. Go on."

"Well, I had to lay him out, which wasn't very difficult, and for safety's sake I tied him up in his own straps. Then I had a look at my machine. The front wheel was hopelessly buckled. What about the German's, I thought. I found that the engine was mere scrap iron; it had got the full force of the collision. But the back wheel wasn't hurt a bit. By good luck it was exactly the same size as mine, and as the tool bag was there all complete, I set about exchanging the wheels--and also more or less pleasant remarks with the German, who showed a wonderful command of English bargee idiom when he recovered his senses. I had pulled my old Rover to pieces so often at home that I had no trouble, though it took me a long time. When I had finished, I wondered whether I could bring in the German as a prisoner, but I couldn't very well fix him on the carrier without help. And besides, the front forks had been so strained and twisted that I was afraid the whole concern might come to grief. So I went over and bade him a polite good-bye, eased his lashings so that he could wriggle free with a little exertion, and then set off at full speed. By the way, I had taken the liberty of examining his pockets, left him a photograph and a few trifles, and took a letter and a despatch which I handed to the general. On the whole I think we've done a good day's work."

"I rather think we have. Pity you didn't leave the German tied up: we might have got him to-morrow on our way back."

"No thank you! Once running the gauntlet of German shells is enough for me. We'll go back the long way. And as we shall have only the one machine between us I'll take it to the repairing shop and have it looked over. There's not much wrong with it, and we'll take turn and turn about on the carrier."

They set off in a fine spring dawn, taking their midday meal with them. It was slow going on this outer circle. The road, lying well behind the British lines, was encumbered with military traffic. The pave was for long stretches occupied by motor omnibuses and lorries, carrying men, provisions, and ammunition. Here was a lorry loaded with bacon, there one packed with loaves of bread from the baking ovens, there another heaped with parcels sent out from home, another with new uniforms, boots and equipment. Time after time the cyclists had to hop off, leave the pave for the muddy unpaved border of the road, and stand ankle deep in mud until the heavy vehicles had passed, exchanging pleasantries with the cheerful drivers.

"I say, this is a nuisance," said Harry, at one of these stoppages. "If I'm not mistaken, the map showed a cross-road about halfway, leading into the road we travelled yesterday. It comes out by that hamlet we passed. I vote we take that and chance it. There's no firing at present, and the road is less exposed at that end. Of course there's no hurry, but this constant hopping off and on is too monotonous for anything."

"We'll have a look at the cross-road when we come to it. It may be too bad for riding."

On reaching the cross-road, they found that there was no traffic on it, though there were marks of the recent passage of heavy vehicles. It looked fairly easy, so they struck into it, and bowled along for a mile or two without interruption. In spite of bruises due to their spills on the previous day they felt very fit, and the rapid movement through the fresh morning air had its usual exhilarating effect.

"This is better than the trenches--heaps better than hanging about in billets," said Kenneth. "I'd rather like despatch riding."

"So would I," replied Harry. "But I don't regret anything. All I'm sorry for is that poor old Ginger is collared. I'm afraid he's having a rotten time of it."

The road was winding and hilly, running through country for the most part bare, but dotted with clumps of woodland. Presently they passed a train of artillery transport. Shortly afterwards they came in sight of a low hill from the further side of which they expected to see the ruined hamlet. As they rode up the hill they suddenly noticed, just below the crown on their left, a battery of British field-guns getting into position. The gunners were masking it from aerial observation by means of branches of trees and shrubs on which the foliage was well advanced. Then a bend of the road brought them in sight of a battalion of infantry, evidently in support of the guns.

"Halt there!" cried a man, coming towards them.

They slipped off, left the bicycle by the side of the road, and accompanied the man to the colonel.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Kenneth mentioned the name of their village.

"You can't go this way," said the colonel. "The enemy isn't far on the other side of the road this leads to, and I don't want anything to attract his attention to this quarter. Ride back, and go along the main road."

"We can't get along very well for the traffic, sir," said Kenneth. "We rode the other way yesterday, and know it quite well. It's much shorter, and a good deal of it is in a hollow, so that we are not very likely to be seen. Besides, sir, we might possibly do a little scouting on the way."

"You're not in a signal company?"

"Not officially, sir, though we carried an emergency despatch yesterday."

"Well, I'll let you through on condition that you come back at once if you see anything worth reporting. You're a public school man, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir. Haileybury."

"O.T.C.?"

"Yes, sir."

"Couldn't wait for a commission, I suppose? Well, remember your work on field days. I can trust you to use your intelligence."

"Thank you, sir."

"By the way, I must tell you that a field telephone has gone ahead. Look alive; the gunners are in a hurry."

They remounted and rode on, passing a screen of scouts lying over a wide front below the crest of the hill. As they were nearing the foot of the farther slope they saw the telephone wagon coming towards them. On meeting it they stopped and asked the driver what was going on.

"Nothing yet. We've laid the wire to a cottage you'll see in the distance when you get beyond those trees. There's a lieutenant and four men in charge. You'd better hurry up."

"What, are there any Germans in sight?" asked Harry.

"No; but there's been a bit of sniping. I don't think they could have seen us going into the cottage, but they must have caught sight of us on the road. I heard the smack of a bullet on the back of the wagon, and was thankful when I got under the trees."

They went on. Beyond the trees the road ran straight up a long gradual incline. To the left, on the crest, stood a small cottage, enclosed, with its garden, within a brick wall. They had ridden only a few yards up the ascent when they heard the crackle of rifle fire ahead.

"The Germans must have seen or guessed that the men went to the cottage," said Kenneth. "We had better leave the machine and go up across the field. The cottage and garden wall will give us cover. It will be just as well to learn what's going on."

They left the road and ran up the grassy hill towards the cottage. On nearing the crest they became aware that the firing they had heard was being directed from the front of the cottage. There was no answering fire, but it was clear that the little party in the cottage was expecting an attack. Being an observation party, to whose success secrecy was essential, it was equally clear that they would not have fired except from urgent necessity.

"Ride back and tell the colonel," said Kenneth. "I'll go on and lend a hand."

At another moment it would have been Harry's way to dispute his friend's right to the dangerous part, and to settle the matter by the spin of a coin. It might have occurred to him, too, that the call for support would reach the colonel by telephone more quickly than he could convey it on the bicycle. But guessing that the position was critical, he turned his back at once, ran down the hill, mounted the machine, and rode back at his utmost speed. Kenneth meanwhile had vaulted the garden wall, and dashed into the cottage through the open door at the back.

During the next ten or fifteen minutes events crowded one upon another more rapidly than can be related, and we must pause for a little to make the position clear. The cottage stood on a spur projecting slightly eastward from the general line of the ridge. Below it the ground sloped gently down to the road which Kenneth and Harry had travelled on the previous day. Beyond that the country undulated for several miles. About a mile away was a young plantation. The road ran right and left, with considerable windings, and a mile and a half away, on the right, was the ruined hamlet through which the motor riders had passed. A little below the cottage a stone wall of no great height stretched across the ground, ultimately meeting the road. On the eastern side of it--that is, in the direction of the German lines--was a ditch, shallow and empty. During the night a full regiment of Germans, reorganised after their recent repulse, had occupied the wood and the hamlet, the advance guard of a large body whose purpose was to carry their line forward just as the British on their side were doing. The British engineer party had not completed the installation of the telephone in the cottage when the lieutenant saw the Germans debouching from the wood towards the hamlet, and considerable movement in the hamlet itself. Ordering his men to cut loopholes in the wall of the front room on the upper storey, and to fire if the enemy appeared to be advancing on the cottage, he worked at the telephone, and had almost finished when the German scouts were seen creeping up the hill about half a mile away. Below them was a company in extended order; below them again a second company in support. They were coming straight towards the cottage, and the men, in obedience to their officer's orders, had fired.

Kenneth dashed into the cottage. The lower floor was empty. He rushed up the stairs into the only room above. Four men were posted at the loopholes; the lieutenant was screwing on the receiver of the telephone. He looked up as Kenneth entered.

"Are they coming on already?" he asked.

"No; but a pal of mine has ridden back to tell the colonel."

"That's good. It will be a minute or two before this wretched thing is in working order."

Just then there was a burst of rifle fire from the enemy. The windows were shattered. One of the men dropped his rifle and shouted.

"Get out and back to our lines," called the officer, seeing that he was _hors de combat_. "Take his rifle, will you?" he added to Kenneth. "For goodness' sake don't go near the window."

Kenneth picked up the rifle and hurried to a loophole. From the volume of the enemy's fire it was clear that the assailants were a very numerous body, and it struck him as madness for five men to attempt to hold the place. He ventured to say so.

"Done at last!" said the lieutenant. "What was that you said? ... All right" (he spoke through the telephone). "Infantry advancing. No sign of battery.... Hold it! Of course we must. If they get here they can see our battery from the roof. Besides, if we can hold them off until the battalion comes up we couldn't have a better defensive position than the wall and ditch in front.... Gad! that's bad."

A shell had burst on the slope between the cottage and the road, clear of the infantry advancing farther to the right.

"Take my glasses," continued the lieutenant, "go well to the left, and see if you can spot the direction when the next shell comes." In low distinct tones he spoke into the bell of the receiver: "Enemy firing line about 700 yards below crest, range say 5200."

Another shell burst about a hundred yards to the left of the cottage.

"See the flash?" asked the officer, with the receiver at his ear.

"No."

"They're firing at long range.... Yes: all right.... They've had to change their position--our battery, I mean. Want another five minutes." He looked at his wrist watch. "By that time the Germans will be upon us, even if a lucky shot from one of their big guns don't tumble the place about our ears. However!"

Kenneth admired the young officer's coolness as, laying down the receiver, he took up a rifle and posted himself at a loophole. The Germans had stopped firing: bending low they were creeping up yard by yard towards the wall.

"Are you a good shot?" asked the officer.

"Fair," replied Kenneth.

"Then pick off the men on the flank. If they get across that dyke they'll work round to our rear and have cover until they are close upon us."

Kenneth, sighting for 500 yards, took aim at the man highest up on the enemy's extreme left flank. The man dropped. Then he fired at the next man, and missed. A second shot found its mark. Meanwhile the officer and his three men methodically fired, each through his own loophole. And for four crowded minutes they poured their bullets into the line of scouts, which thinned away until not one was visible on the hillside.

But the company behind was pushing steadily on, and now opened fire. A hail of bullets struck the walls of the cottage and whistled through the broken windows. The officer, creeping across the floor to the telephone receiver, was smothered with splinters of wood. One of the men uttered an oath and drew his hand across his cheek.

"A free shave, Tom," said the next man with a grin. "Whiskers won't grow there no more."

Meanwhile, every twenty or thirty seconds a shell burst in the neighbourhood of the cottage, every time nearer. The noise was terrific.

"Long time getting the range," said the lieutenant, holding the receiver to his ear. "Our boys are just going to start.... Yes; still coming on; range 5000: 400 less will smash _me_, so be careful." ...

Almost immediately afterwards a British shell burst in front of the cottage.

"Where did it fall?" asked the officer.

"Behind their supports, sir," replied one of the men.

"Make it 4800," said the lieutenant through the telephone.

The words had scarcely left his lips when there was a terrific crash. For a few seconds Kenneth was so dazed as almost to be unconscious. When he regained his wits he found himself lying in darkness on the floor. An acrid smell teased his nostrils. Wondering where he was, and why he was alive, he tried to rise, and knocking his head, discovered that he was under a bed. He crawled out, over a heap of rubbish, and wriggled to a gap in the back wall, and into the garden. And there, emerging from the framework of what had been a window, was the lieutenant, his face streaming with blood. But he still held the telephone receiver, which, by one of the freaks of such explosions, had remained undamaged.

"Cottage bashed to bits," he reported coolly through the telephone.... "No answer. The line's broken somewhere. Wonder whether it was a German shell or one of ours. Hunt about for a rifle. By their howls they're coming on. We'll creep round into the ditch. I've got my revolver: come after me if you can find a rifle."

But Kenneth was diverted from his search for a rifle by groans from beneath a heap of debris. Removing it as quickly as possible, he released one of the privates, whose face was cut and bruised and his arm broken. He was wondering whether to look for the other men or for a rifle when he saw a khaki figure running along by the garden wall towards the ditch. Another followed, then another, then groups, all hastening quietly in the direction of the firing. The battalion had come up at last. Kenneth continued his search for the men. One was dead; the third badly wounded.

Meanwhile the British soldiers, puffing hard with the run up the hill, were filing into the ditch, opening fire on the Germans the moment they arrived. The enemy's artillery was silent, no doubt for fear of hitting their own men. But British shells were falling almost incessantly on the German columns down the hill. Still the enemy advanced, losing more and more heavily as the ditch filled up. And presently, unable to endure the terrible fire from the British vantage position above them, they recoiled and were soon in full retreat, with still heavier losses, for by the time they reached the road the whole of the British battalion was extended along the firing line.

The British at once set to work to deepen the ditch for a regular trench. Before long the German artillery again began to play, the fire becoming more and more accurate as the gunners found the range. The Red Cross men were kept busy in tending the wounded under cover of the ruined cottage. In a short time the British position on the ridge was consolidated, and preparations were made for a line of trenches, somewhat farther back and less exposed, which would become the permanent trenches if the Germans were in sufficient force to return to the attack.

By force of circumstances Kenneth had taken no part in the fight after the collapse of the cottage. But the engineer lieutenant, who had retired from the firing line as soon as the ditch was manned, and imperturbably rummaged among the ruins for the broken wire, thanked him for his help.

Kenneth wondered why Harry had not returned. As soon as he had an opportunity he enquired about him, and learnt that the colonel had sent him to the village with a message. The road by which Kenneth had intended to return being closed, he could only regain his billet by tramping back until he reached the main road. But Harry on the bicycle met him halfway, and they reached their quarters in time for dinner. And there they learnt that a portion of the village which they had captured two days before had been won back by the Germans.