CHAPTER XXIII

  THE LAST STAND

  REFUSING Sergeant Alderhame's offer to accompany him and leaving himin charge, Ralph, with Corporal Anderson and a private, emerged fromthe Tank.

  There was no time to be lost. Already Setley had caught sight of abattery of German fixed field guns moving somewhat in the directionof the crippled Tank. Even if the survivors of the troop train didnot inform the artillery officers of the presence of the Britishlandship there was not the faintest chance of the huge,multi-coloured target escaping the notice of the gunners.

  Bearing the explosive the subaltern and the two men raced to thebridge. Waist deep in water Ginger Anderson placed the charge in aspace between the baulks of timber forming one of the principalpiers, applied and lit the fuse.

  The three started to run back to the shelter of the Tank when thesharp crack of a rifle rang out and Corporal Anderson pitchedheadlong on his face and rolled over on his back.

  "'Ard lines," he gasped. "Properly plugged, an' no chance of gettin'back to Blighty. 'Op it, sir, an' don't worry arter me."

  Ralph knelt by the side of his wounded corporal and one-timefellow-private. The other man also stopped and threw himself upon theground. The time-limit of the fuse was nearly up.

  "Where are you hit?" asked Setley.

  "Left leg, sir," replied Ginger Anderson.

  "No more bloomin' football for me, worse luck. It's like this,sir----"

  A deafening crash denoted the fact that the charge had exploded. Whenthe dust cleared away the greater portion of the bridge was no longerin existence. That part of the business had been successfullyaccomplished.

  "Put your hands round my neck and hang on," ordered Setley. "I'mgoing to carry you in."

  With the assistance of the private Anderson was hoisted on thesubaltern's back and the last stage of the return journey began, butbefore Ralph had taken a dozen steps something like a hot-iron searedhis shoulder. In spite of the weight of his burden he turned roundtwice and then collapsed, losing consciousness to the rattle of oneof the Tank's machine-guns.

  At the report of the rifle-shot that had brought Ginger Anderson downSergeant Alderhame, keenly on the alert, kept a sharp look-out forthe sniper's position. When the second report rang out the sergeantlet rip with the machine-gun, with the result that he had thesatisfaction of seeing a Hun scurrying for more efficient cover andbeing brought down as he ran.

  A rescue party quickly brought the wounded officer and corporal backto the Tank.

  "Bringin' 'em in, sergeant?" asked one of the men. "We're all bestoutside, I'm thinking. They're bringing up the guns."

  "By Jove, so they are!" exclaimed Alderhame. "Yes, outside every manjack of you. We'll be having fifteen-pounder shells this way in halfa jiffey."

  The operation of abandoning the landship was proceeded with. SergeantAlderhame was the last man to leave, having previously lit a fusethat would lead to the complete destruction of the Tank. She hadplayed her part nobly, and her reward was destruction at the hands ofher crew.

  Presently Ralph opened his eyes, to find himself being carried byfour of his men. Others were bearing the wounded corporal, while morewere carrying off one of the maxims. At the same moment the first ofthe German shells burst a hundred yards to the rear and within a fewfeet of the already doomed landship.

  "Where are you making for, sergeant?" asked Ralph.

  "For that farmhouse, sir," replied Alderhame.

  "Better not," protested the wounded subaltern, as resolutely as hisbodily weakness permitted. "They'll mark us down for a dead cert ifwe take up our position there. Select a spot at least two hundredyards away."

  The crew of the Tank proceeded on their quest for shelter.Instinctively they realized that they were in a very tight corner,isolated on hostile ground. Nothing short of a miracle, they decided,could extricate them from their dangerous position; yet withunfailing resolution they made up their minds to "fight it out."Death with their faces to the foe was infinitely preferable to thehorrors of the life of a prisoner of war in the hands of the Huns.

  Keeping to the scanty cover afforded by a slight dip in the groundthe dauntless men made their way with the utmost caution. Just asthey gained the spot indicated by the officer a crash, completelyoutvoicing the bursting of the shells, announced that Setley's Tankwas no longer in existence.

  Propped against a shattered tree-trunk Ralph directed operations fordefence, while one of his men attended to his wound.

  "Where's the German officer?" he asked suddenly.

  Ginger Anderson, who was lying close to his disabled officer, grinnedbroadly, despite the agony caused by his badly fractured leg.

  "I 'it 'im a little too 'ard, sir," he explained. "Meant ter put 'imto sleep in the best perfessional manner, but----"

  "He was as dead as a doornail before you left to destroy the bridge,sir," reported Sergeant Alderhame. "We didn't worry to bring hiscarcase away, and I guess it will be a warning to his pals when theyfind him. Hullo, sir! You're right. Fritz has started to shell thefarmhouse."

  Evidently under the impression that the men from the Tank hadsheltered in the building the Huns began shelling the conspicuoustarget. At the third round the place collapsed like a pack of cards.

  "If they let it go at that we may even yet have a chance," thoughtRalph.

  Ten minutes later Alderhame reported a considerable body of Germanscoming in the direction of the demolished house, while at the sametime the presence of a strong force of hostile infantry was seenbetween the Tank's crew and the British front.

  "No chance of slipping through," decided the sergeant. "We'll lieclose and trust to luck. They may not spot us. If they get toocurious we'll give them something to remember."

  The Germans, on arriving at the site of the farm buildings, carefullyexamined the debris. Disappointed in their expectations of findingthe bodies of their foes they signalled to the main force. Thereceipt of this intelligence was followed by an encircling movement,two battalions working round to the right, one to the left, while aregiment of Jagers in extended order advanced immediately on theirfront.

  "They're mighty keen on getting us," said Ralph. "A couple ofthousand men at the very least."

  About fifty of the Huns who had made their way to the farmhouse werenow heading directly for the spot where the British soldiers lay intheir scanty cover. It was impossible to escape detection.

  "Stand by," whispered Alderhame tersely. He had taken over thecommand, since Setley was too weak to direct operations effectively.

  A guttural shout from one of the leading Germans proclaimed the factthat he had spotted the group of khaki-clad men. A regular fusilladewas the immediate outcome of his discovery; but, with the usualindifferent marksmanship of the Hun, the shots flew either wide orelse too high.

  The maxim, aided by rifle fire, gave the enemy a very unpleasantsurprise, and before the first belt of ammunition was exhausted theGermans were bolting for cover.

  "Now for a good old shelling," thought Ralph.

  But he was mistaken. For some unexplained reason the German fieldguns had limbered up. Perhaps their presence was urgently required atanother point. Instead, the swarm of infantry began to converge uponthe isolated handful of Britons, until the position was surrounded bya dense mass of field grey-clad troops.

  Even then the Huns forbore to close. Sharpshooters crept forward,taking admirable cover, but, generally speaking, the enemy keptbeyond effective rifle distance.

  "They're going to wait until its dark and then rush us," decidedAlderhame. "By Jove, I never before played to such a crowded audienceas this!"

  Slowly the time dragged on. Bullets from the skirmishers buzzedincessantly over the defenders' heads. The crew of the Tank repliedleisurely, hardly ever throwing away a shot. The maxim was silent. Itwas no use wasting ammunition on individual foes.

  With disconcerting persistence, despite their losses, the Jagers drewnearer and nearer. Numbers of them concentrated in a hollow withineighty yards of the
defenders' position, where, immune from fire,they prepared to rush the little band at the point of the bayonet,aided by the use of bombs.

  Suddenly disorder appeared in the hostile ranks. Men, bolting forcover, fled for dear life, many of them dropping from a fire moreintense than that of Setley's party.

  The reason was soon apparent. Waddling over the undulating ground wasa British Tank. Spitting out fire as she advanced the rescuinglandship made straight for the place where the crew of her destroyedconsort held their own, and, taking up a position so as to form ascreen from the Germans' fire, she came to a stop.

  "Buck up, Setley!" exclaimed Danvers. "Don't keep us waiting. Here'splenty of room inside."

  But Setley was temporarily beyond the "bucking up" stage. He hadfainted again.

  When he recovered consciousness Ralph was in a base hospital. Almostthe first question he asked was whether his men were safe. Receivingan affirmative reply, he enquired whether the nature of his woundswould put him out of the running for active service.

  "Bless my soul, no!" replied the doctor. "A few months at home andyou'll be as fit as a fiddle. Let me be the first to congratulateyou, Mr. Setley."

  "On what?" asked Ralph.

  "Promotion and the D.S.O.," replied the medico. "Both well earned,let me say. Now, don't get excited, or you'll put yourself back. Thesooner you get fit the sooner you'll be given the command of one ofthe latest super-Tanks. I know that for a fact."

  "That's good," murmured the wounded lieutenant. "All I hope is thatwhen the Greatest Push comes off I'll again be to the Fore with theTanks!"

  PRINTED BYWILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD.PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND

  [Transcriber's Notes:

  A probable misprint, which was not corrected, is:

  [said Sefton] -> [said Setley]

  Nowhere else in the book the name [Sefton] is used. And the dialog where this occurs, implies that this must be [Setley].

  In the paper version, used to make this digital text, there is a page (page no. 168, chapter XVI) where the text was damaged to such an extent that it was unreadable. The area covered five lines. On those lines the first words were corrupted. These pieces are marked in this text with [unreadable text].

  A few cases of punctuation errors were corrected, but are not mentioned here. ]

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends

Percy F. Westerman's Novels