CHAPTER VI
A PRISONER OF WAR
AN almost similar pilgrimage across No Man's Land had been made byPrivate Bartlett, but with a different ending. Before he was aware ofthe fact he had blundered into a party of Germans engaged in wiringthe defences, and as he made a vicious jab with his bayonet at thenearest of the Huns he was felled with a blow of a mallet. Without acry he dropped senseless.
In an unconscious condition he was brought in by his captors, andplaced unceremoniously on the fire-step of the hostile trench. At thefirst sign of the prisoner's senses returning his guards sent word totheir officers that the Englishman was recovering and could beinterrogated.
"Now you vos tell me der truth," said the German menacingly. "Derwhole truth, mind, or we vos haf you shot. I know plenty about yourtrenches, so if you tell der lie den I vos you find out. Now, votregiment you vos?"
"The Wheatshires," replied the captive promptly. He knew that theHuns were fully aware of the composition of the troops engagedopposite to them.
"Goot!" said the Major. "Dot vos so. Now, der is talk of und mine.Dot is so?"
"Yes," replied Sidney. "We have sunk a mine gallery."
"In vot direction?" was the next question.
Sidney paused to think. He recalled his father's words. "In business,Sidney, you can tell a lie." This was a business--one of the grimmestbusinesses that fall to the lot of men and nations--scientificmurder, licensed under the name of war.
"Why you no answer?" prompted the Hun.
"Suppose I refuse?" asked the captive. "Men taken prisoner are notcompelled to reply to questions on military matters."
The German laughed gruffly.
"Rules of war for fools are," he chuckled. "We Germans make war, weno play. You answer vill make now, so."
"All right; if I am compelled to do so," rejoined Sidney. "The mineruns away to your left--two hundred yards, I should think." In pointof fact, and Private Bartlett was perfectly aware of it, theexplosion chamber was almost immediately beyond that part of thehostile trench in which he was held prisoner. Although the main forceof the explosion would be directed against the Pumpnickel Redoubtthere was the almost certainty of a swift and terrible death to everyliving creature in the German first-line trenches as well.
The Hun officer snapped out some words of command to his men. Thesoldiers began to pile up sand-bags across the trench to neutralize,as they thought, the outlying effects of the impending explosion,while the locality that Bartlett had purposely and wrongly indicatedwas cleared of troops.
"Ach!" continued the Major. "Now you vos tell me dis: at vot hour themine goes it off?"
"At six-thirty," replied Sidney promptly. He was entering eagerlyinto the "business" by this time. It would result, he had no doubt,in the extermination of several hundred Germans and his comparativelyinsignificant self as well.
"Now, we see," remarked the Prussian officer. "If der truth you hafsaid, den all vill well be. We keep you here--in der drench."
Evidently the German had certain misgivings, for, ordering a post tobe driven deeply into the slime and his prisoner to be firmly boundto it, he scurried off to a remote portion of the reserve trenches.
This much Ralph Setley heard. From other sounds he came to theconclusion that most, if not all, of the German troops were followingtheir superior's example.
"Time for me to be getting back," he soliloquized. "There may yet bean opportunity for our chaps to raid the trench and rescue Bartlettbefore the mine is sprung. Wonder how time goes? It seems as if I'vebeen out for a couple of hours."
He returned in quicker time than he had taken to crawl out to thebarbed wire entanglements. For one thing the Huns were no longer inthe trench, ready to train a machine-gun on any moving object thatthey were able to discern in the glare of the star-shells. Foranother thing, the artillery duel had increased in violence, the rainof projectiles from the British guns being unmistakably superior invelocity to that of the Huns. Perhaps it was a prelude to theimpending advance? If so, the hour fixed for the firing of the minewas at hand.
"That you, Setley?" came a hoarse whisper almost into his ear.
"Yes," replied Ralph, recognizing Alderhame's voice.
"Thought you had been done in. We've been back some time. I crawledout to see if I could find you. Come along."
A rifle-bullet whizzed past Setley's head.
Promptly he ducked and crouched in a convenient shell-hole. Somewherein No Man's Land a Hun sniper was on the qui vive.
A dozen shots rang out from the British trenches in reply. The flashof the sniper's rifle had betrayed his position. A squeal, like thatof a stuck pig, showed pretty plainly that the Hun ought to havestopped a bullet.
The noise was but a ruse on the sniper's part, for as Alderhame andSetley scrambled over the parapet another shot rang out from the samespot, the bullet grazing the heel of Ralph's boot and cutting aslight furrow on his wrist.
It was hard lines on the sniper; for just as he fired his second shota German shell, falling short--as defective projectiles are apt todo--landed fairly on top of his lair. In the flash that followed theluckless sniper's body was hurled high in the air, and fell with asickening thud almost on top of the British parapet.
"What have you been up to?" enquired Sergeant Ferris.
Briefly, Setley told the non-com. of what he had heard.
"Then come along and report to the Colonel," continued the sergeant."By smoke, if we get permission to attempt a rescue every man-jack inthe battalion will want to be over the top."
"A very creditable performance," declared the officer commanding theWheatshires, when Ralph had made his report. "Private Bartlett is abrick. No; I do not think it advisable to go out again. The hostilewire is now intact, I understand. As things go we must leave Bartlettto take his chances. It would be madness to throw even a platoonagainst standing entanglements. One must not allow sentiment tojeopardize men's lives."
Somewhat crestfallen, Sergeant Ferris and Private Setley left theC.O.'s dug-out. It was now half-past two--the time fixed for the mento assemble for the task of occupying and consolidating themine-crater.
Like ghostly forms the steel-helmeted Tommies clustered in thefire-trench. The officers, nervously consulting their watches atevery half-minute, felt the tedious wait as acutely as the men. Oncethe whistle blew the excitement of the wild rush would come as awelcome relief to the dreary and nerve-racking period of waiting,when men have opportunities to conjure up mental pictures of whatmight happen during the dash across No Man's Land.
"Ain't it about time that blinkin' mine went up?" whispered GeorgeAnderson. "Ain't it perishin' cold? If I 'ave to wait much longer Iwon't 'ave no feet to carry me over the top."
"Five minutes longer," announced Penfold. "Hullo! What's up with thecompany on our right flank?"
The men referred to could be seen filing off along the narrow trench.In half a minute the three adjacent bays were deserted, except forthe sentries and the men told off for duty in the firing line.
A subaltern floundered along the duck-boards and whispered to theplatoon commander.
The charge was to be deferred pending further orders fromheadquarters. Either something had gone wrong with the finalpreparations of the mine, or else information had been received thatnecessitated the advance being postponed.
"Turn in, you fellows," said Sergeant Ferris. "No more going outto-night! Sorry for young Bartlett, but you know what the Colonelsaid."
"'Ow about our relief, sergeant?" enquired George Anderson. "Thoughtthe Wheatshires were to be sent back last night?"
"Don't know as you've much cause to grumble," replied the N.C.O.,"seeing that you haven't been twenty-four hours in the firing trench.Some of the boys have had six days of it."
"Seems like twenty-four months, sergeant," continued Ginger.
"P'r'aps; but you're a glutton for going out over No Man's Land,"said Ferris. "You've no call to complain that it hasn't been excitingenough."
"A chap must do somet
hing to keep himself warm," groused the private,as he followed Setley and Alderhame to their now depleted dug-out.