Burton of the Flying Corps

  Chapter V Heading]

  THE MISSING PLATOON

  I

  Burton rode at an easy jog trot, smoking a cigarette. He had a day off,and by way of recreation had borrowed a horse to visit the battery forwhich he had done a good deal of "spotting," but which he had not yetseen. His only communication with it had been by wireless from the air.

  It was a fine spring afternoon--rather ominously fine, he thought, forthe sunlight had that liquid brightness which often preludes dirtyweather. Dust flew in clouds from the white road before the gusty wind.From somewhere ahead came the booming of guns, and now and then he sawbursts of smoke above the trenches a few miles away.

  He came to a solitary house at the roadside. It was partly demolished;but in the doorway, flanked by a solid wall of sandbags, a subaltern wasstanding. Burton reined up.

  "Officers' quarters of No. 6?" he asked laconically.

  "The same," was the reply.

  "My name's Burton: thought I'd come over and have a look at you."

  "You're the chap, are you? Well, I'll take you round. They're all inthe gun-pits, waiting orders. Take your horse round to the back: we getpip-squeaks here occasionally."

  Having placed the horse in safety, Burton accompanied his guide acrossthe road, through what had once been a market-garden, to a turfy moundresembling a small barrow, such as may be seen here and there in thesouth of England. But this mound in France was obviously not an ancientburial-place. There was something recent and artificial in itsappearance. A deep drain encircled it, and on its western side therewas a small opening, like the entrance to an Eskimo hut.

  "Here we are," said his guide, Laurence Cay, second lieutenant. "Mindyour head."

  Burton stooped and entered. He found himself in a spacious chamber,dimly lit through the doorway and the hurdles stretched across thefarther end. To him, coming from the brilliant sunlight, the interiorwas at first impenetrably dark; but as his eyes became accustomed to thedimness, he saw the gun, clean, silent, on a bed of concrete; rows ofshells placed in recesses in the walls; and the opening of a tunnel.

  "That leads to our dug-out," said Cay. "We'll find some one there."

  A few steps through the tunnel brought them to a large cave-like room,furnished with table and chairs, four bunks and a store cupboard. Twoofficers were taking a late luncheon.

  "Let me introduce Burton, V.C., D.S.O., one of our spotters," said Cay."Captain Adams, Mr. Mortimer."

  "Hullo, Burton? So it's you. How d'ye do?" said the captain, shakinghands. "Haven't seen you for an age. Have a drink?"

  "A cosy little place, this," said Burton, as he quaffed a mug of cider.

  "H'm! Pretty fair. We're proof against anything but a 'Jack Johnson.'They haven't discovered us yet. We've had a few pip-squeaks andfour-twos, by accident. We make better practice, I think."

  "You missed a chance this morning."

  "How's that?"

  "Well, that mill, you know, just across the way--the Huns' divisionalheadquarters."

  "Across the way! It's five miles--and a hill between!"

  Burton, who knew Captain Adams of old, ignored the interruption. It wasan easy amusement to "draw" Adams.

  "With a little promptitude, and--h'm--accuracy, you might have baggedthe whole lot; and who knows if Big or Little Willy mightn't have beenthere on a visit? But you were so slow getting to work that they allgot away--except the cooks."

  "But, hang it all! I gave the order 'Battery action' one second afterwe got the first call from O.P. and...."

  "Yes, but your first shell plugged into a cabbage patch half a mile tothe left."

  "O.P. reported 300 yards," snorted the captain indignantly.

  "Wanted to spare your feelings, old man. As I was saying, it only scaredthe Huns and gave them time to clear out. The second shell was justabout as far to the right: demolished a pigsty."

  "Come now, how the deuce do you know that?"

  "Well, the divisional cooks started to make sauerkraut and sausage----"

  At this point Adams noticed that his subalterns were writhing with theeffort to contain their laughter; and perceiving at last that he wasbeing "chipped," he caught Burton by the collar and hurled him towardsone of the bunks. This was the opening move of a scrimmage which mighthave continued until both were breathless had not Adams suddenlyremembered himself.

  "Gad, Burton, this won't do!" he said. "Bad example to those younginnocents" (indicating the subalterns). "Quite like old times atschool, eh? But really----"

  "How long have you been a captain, Adams?"

  "Gazetted a fortnight ago; it came through orders a week later. Mustgive up skylarking now, you know. Have another drink."

  They sat down, compared notes, talked over old times: the conversationbecame general.

  "Trench raids are becoming more common," said Cay presently. "You heardwhat happened the other day?"

  "What was that?"

  "The better part of a platoon of the Rutlands is missing. They hold thetrenches in front of us, you know. Well, they got up a night raid, andpenetrated the Huns' first line: came back with a handful of prisonersand no casualties to speak of. But when they took stock, something overforty men of this platoon were missing."

  "They went too far, I suppose, and were cut off. Very bad luck."

  "If they're prisoners! Whatever happens to me, I hope I shan't be aprisoner. These raids are the order of the day now; I suppose they'reuseful. At any rate they give our fellows something to do."

  At this moment Burton started as the words "Battery action" came fromsomewhere in a roar like that of a giant.

  "Megaphone!" cried Adams, jumping up.

  The officers rushed into the gun-pit. The men who had been workingoutside came racing in. In a few moments another order was shoutedthrough a megaphone by the man in the telephone room--a shell-proof cavehard by. "Target M--one round battery fire."

  Captain Adams took up a map of the German trenches, and with a rapiditythat amazed Burton, angles and fuses were adjusted, and in a few secondsa shell went whistling and screaming towards its invisible target milesaway. Cay had gone to the wireless instrument in the corner, and satwith the receiving telephones at his ears.

  "Range right; shell dropped quarter-mile to the left," he calledpresently.

  New adjustments were made; the gun fired again.

  "How's that?" asked Adams.

  It seemed only a few seconds before Cay, repeating the message he hadreceived from the invisible aeroplane scouting aloft, replied: "Gothim!" A moment later he added: "New battery----" He broke off: theburring of the instrument had ceased. He tried to get into communicationagain, but failed. "Ask O.P. if they've seen the 'plane," he called tothe telephonist. Presently came the answer: "Went out of sight behind awooded hill. Afraid a Hun 'Archie' has brought it down."

  Meanwhile the order "Break off" had been received. The immediate taskof the battery was accomplished.