CHAPTER XXI
TRAPPED
"'OLD 'ard, chapses; 'old 'ard!"
"What's that?" enquired Ralph, hearing a voice but unable todistinguish the words owing to the din both within and without.
"It's Corporal Anderson, sir," reported one of the crew.
Setley gave orders for the door to be opened. With the Tank still inmotion, George Anderson clambered into the interior and gave vent toan exclamation of profound relief.
"Thoughter wasn't goin' to pick you up, sir," he remarked. "I gotthem Boches back all right, and then blow me if I could find youanywheres. If I've chased one bloomin' Tank I've chased a dozen, tosay nothin' of a few cripples, although I didn't think as 'owanythink could 'appen to this 'ere gadget."
The corporal was too modest to relate the peculiar adventures he hadundergone in his finally successful quest; how he had twice beenknocked flat by exploding shells, and how he had alighted upon a"pocket" of armed Germans who had been overlooked in the forwardmovement. With his utmost coolness Ginger had beckoned to a totallyimaginary crowd of Tommies, and at the same time had shouted to theHuns to "'Ands up," with the result that more time was taken up inthe return journey to the advance cages, shepherding eleven Guardsmenin front of him.
"Have you seen anything of Mr. Danvers?" enquired Ralph.
"Yes, sir," replied Ginger. "It was 'im wot told me where you was.'Is Tank was just off along the Hoppy Road, goin' like a youngracehorse."
It was in the direction of the fortified village of Oppy that Ralphwas making. At this point the massing of German infantry had beenreported by aerial scouts. By road and rail reserves had been rushedup from other sections of the Hindenburg Line. The Tanks were to cutthe enemy's communications, if possible, and hinder the concentrationof Germans for the counter-attack.
The shell-pitted ground over which Setley's Tank nosed her way was nolonger under fire. The enormous craters had been torn up by thebombardment of the British heavies. The guns were now being pushedforward, and although the German artillery was still putting up astrong barrage the projectiles were falling between the captured Vonder Golz Redoubt and Néancourt village.
Every foot of the way was strewn with evidences of the devastatingeffect of the pounding of the shells. Numerous corpses, half-buriedlimbers, dismounted field-guns, and a medley of shattered transportwaggons testified to the terrible gruelling the Huns had receivedbehind their trenches. Here and there were heaps of brickwork mingledwith still smouldering woodwork--all that was left of a dozenvillages. Hardly a tree was left standing. The few that were had beenstripped of branches and reared their scorched and seared trunks likegrim gallows trees silhouetted against the black and yellow waste ofsmoke.
Already British cavalry were patrolling considerably beyond theground held by the infantry. The men, filled with wild enthusiasm atbeing able to be in the saddle and after their foes, were makingshort work of all small detachments of Germans who had got out oftouch with the main body.
For three miles Setley's Tank pursued her way before losing sight ofthe cavalry. Occasionally a Hun sniper would send a bullet pingingharmlessly against her steel sides, but the crew loftily ignored theuseless compliment. With bigger game in view, the individual Germanmarksman could be simply left alone.
As the Tank approached a ruined wall a khaki-clad figure appeared asfrom the earth and began running towards the oncoming machine, wavinghis hands in a manner that clearly indicated his wish for thelandship to stop.
"He's an officer, sir," reported Sergeant Alderhame. "Wonder whathe's doing so far ahead? Prisoner, perhaps, who has managed to givethe Huns the slip."
Giving orders for the motors to be switched off, Ralph brought theTank to a dead stop, and unbolting the armoured door awaited theofficer's approach. Caution urged him not to throw the door wideopen, in case there were snipers about, but without drawing the fireof a single rifle the stranger gained the Tank and at Ralph'sinvitation nimbly hopped in.
"Glad to have fallen in with you," was the new-comer's greeting. Hewas a tall sparely built man in the uniform of a captain of the RoyalFlying Corps. "My name is Cludderborough. I suppose I have alreadybeen reported as missing. I was brought down a week ago last Friday.Nearly came a good old crash, but got off lightly, with the exceptionof a sprained ankle. I managed to escape during the bending of theHindenburg Line. That was early this morning. So far I've not done sobadly, but my ankle is giving me a lot of pain. So that is why Isignalled for you to stop."
"But we aren't going your way," remarked Ralph. "We're off on a sortof independent cruise, don't you know. I would suggest that you enjoythe hospitality of the nearest shell-hole until our cavalry patrolscome up. They are not so very far behind."
Captain Cludderborough did not hail the proposition with enthusiasm.In fact, he promptly "turned it down."
"Too jolly risky," he observed. "Already snipers have put shotsthrough my coat. You have no objection to taking me as a passenger, Ihope? I may come in pretty useful, since I know the country behindthe German line very well, both from the standpoint of an aerialobserver and from that of an escaped prisoner."
Ralph did not immediately accept the offer. There was no good reasonwhy he should not do so. Rapidly weighing up the situation, hedecided that no great harm could be done in the giving the FlyingCorps officer a "lift."
"I must warn you," he said, "that we are about to engage in aparticularly hazardous enterprise. If you are anxious to rejoin yourCorps as quickly as possible I should advise you to accept myproposition. If, on the other hand, you think you can materiallyassist us then by all means come along."
"Right," rejoined the captain promptly. "You are about to cut theGermans' lines of communication in the neighbourhood of Oppy? There'sa beautiful temporary trestle-bridge which the Huns have recentlymade to take the place of a steel viaduct brought down by one of ourairmen. This Tank ought to crumple the structure as easily as if itwere a pack of cards. By the by, have you a snack of something tooffer me? I am absolutely ravenous."
"Get Captain Cludderborough something to eat, Corporal Anderson,"said Ralph. "You'll have to excuse our lack of courtesy," he added."The limited space, the jolting motion, and above all the fact thatwe are in an hostile country, prevents me from doing the honoursproperly."
"Where's your map?" asked the captain, after he had finished hismeal. "Ah, there you are: no sign of the viaduct is shown. Thething's beastly inaccurate. See that slight river almost ahead?That's Nôtre Dame d'Huy. The railway line skirts the other side ofthe hill. There's a fairly broad valley between Nôtre Dame and thehill on the right. Both eminences are crossed with trenches, but theyare not held. The Huns were clearing out as I slipped through. It'smy belief that they have purposely retired in order to leave atempting gap for our troops, and then they'll start shelling fromboth sides. However, it's too early for that, so we ought to getthrough and astride the railway line before they spot us."
Captain Cludderborough spoke with such decision that his wordscarried conviction. With his aid there was certainly a good chance ofpulling off a highly successful coup. By destroying the railwaybridge the transference of German troops from the southern sectors ofthe line to the threatened regions would be seriously impeded. By thetime the men were taken by a circuitous loop-line the British heavyguns would be in position ready to meet the expected counter-attackupon the village of Néancourt and the captured Von der Golz Redoubt.
Steadily the Tank approached the gap between the two hills. So farall went well. Captain Cludderborough's statement that the Germanshad abandoned the rising ground was evidently confirmed, for therewere no signs of any living Huns.
"Rummy sort of show, sir," commented Sergeant Alderhame, as thedefence came in sight. "I should feel inclined to go smack bang overthe hill instead of through that gap."
"Eh?" interrupted the captain. "You would, would you? Not only wouldyou have to surmount difficult ground, but you would be absolutely onthe sky-line and a target for every German quickfirer withi
n tenthousand yards."
"Very good, sir," said the sergeant quietly. Having made his protest,he had done all he could in that direction. He was bound to obeyunquestionably the decision of his superior officer, and since Setleyagreed to the captain's remark the matter was settled.
Nevertheless, Sergeant Alderhame's words impressed themselves uponRalph's mind The subaltern decided that he would be unfeignedly gladwhen the Tank emerged from that forbidding valley. The verystillness, contrasting vividly with the rumble of the distant guns,seemed out of place.
The defile was nearly three quarters of a mile in length, its widthaveraging only a hundred yards. On either side the ground rose withtolerable abruptness, the height of the encircling hills beingconsiderably greater than it had appeared when viewed from adistance. Half-way to the summit a triple line of trenchesencompassed both hills, but these were as silent as the tents ofSennacherib when the angel of death had passed through the Assyrianhosts.
"Nearly through," remarked Captain Cludderborough, who had taken hisstand at Ralph's elbow. "You'll see the precious trestle-bridge inhalf a shake."
As he spoke there was a loud roar. A dense cloud of smoke and dustleapt skywards at the distance of a furlong in front of the Tank.Almost simultaneously another explosion occurred at a similardistance to the rear. The Huns had sprung two land mines. The Tank,caught betwixt them, was trapped, and to impress the fact morestrongly upon her hundreds of Germans appeared from the hithertoapparently deserted trenches.
The cold muzzle of an automatic pistol was pressed against Ralph'stemple and the mocking voice of the pseudo Captain Cludderboroughremarked:
"You will do well, sir, to order your men to surrender instantly.There is no escape. Give in without resistance and you will beaccorded honourable treatment. I, Kapitan Karl von Hoerfelich,guarantee it."
Von Hoerfelich was a resourceful German who, attracted by the offerof a large monetary reward for the capture of an intact British Tank,and animated by a strong desire to further the interest of theImperial arms, had employed a daring ruse in order to attempt toachieve his object. Speaking English with the utmost fluency andhaving a thorough knowledge of British military matters--a knowledgegained by a seven years' exile in Great Britain, during which time hehad taken up a menial position as a waiter at a famous Army Club--hesubmitted his plan to his superiors.
In brief, he was to personate a British airman who had made a forcedlanding behind the German lines. The chance of meeting with a Tankoperating far in advance of the infantry was realized, and so far hehad successfully lured the landship into a formidable ambush. Themoment had come for him boldly to proclaim his identity, his firmbelief being that seeing the uselessness of resistance, the crewwould tamely surrender at his summons.
Completely taken aback when he felt the muzzle of the pistol againsthis temple, Second-Lieutenant Setley wisely refrained from obeyinghis natural inclination of grappling with his declared enemy.
"Wouldn't it be advisable to stop the motors?" asked Ralph coolly."We'll come an awful crash in that beastly hole ahead if we don't. Itlooks quite fifty feet deep, doesn't it?"
Deceived by the apparent simplicity and urgency of the question, vonHoerfelich gave a brief glance through the slit in the armour inorder to verify Setley's statement.
Quick as was his action, Ralph was quicker. With a sharp upwardmovement of his elbow he jerked the German's automatic pistol. At thesame time he ducked his head and gripped the Hun round the waist.Interlocked in a grim embrace, the two men struggled in the confinedspace while the Tank ambled uncontrolled towards the yawningmine-crater.
Something hard grazed Ralph's cheek and struck the German on thepoint of his chin with a dull hideous thud. With a muttered "Wot'syer game, old sport?" Ginger Anderson had planted a terrificleft-hander on a vulnerable part of the Boche's anatomy. The fellow'sresistance collapsed, and he dropped inertly at the little corporal'sfeet.
Recovering his disturbed senses, Ralph shouted to the men to openfire; then turning the Tank in as small a curve as possible hesteered the monster up the steep side of the ravine, where hundredsof the enemy, assisted by the natural defence of the ground, awaitedwith complete confidence the capture of the trapped Tank.