"By Jove!" the lad muttered to himself. "I don’t like to sit back here while all this is going on."
"Colonel," he said, "I wonder if you will permit me to take a hand in the attack? I assure you that I am no novice at the game."
The colonel considered the point a moment.
"All right," he said at last, "but mind that you do not expose yourself needlessly. You must remember that General Rhodes looks to you for a report on the pending engagement. Here, I’ll give you instructions for Lieutenant Colonel Johnson, of the Fourth regiment. That will enable you to get into the midst of things. You may remain with the regiment as long as you see fit, remembering only that I wish you to report to me an hour after daylight."
He leaped lightly from the colonel’s automobile, appropriated a horse from a trooper who stood near and dashed forward in the darkness.
Colonel Johnson’s force was some distance ahead, and it was perhaps fifteen minutes later that Hal came up with him. He gave the instructions that Colonel English had confided in him, and then said:
"Colonel, if you don’t mind I’ll stay with you through this battle."
Colonel Johnson would have protested, but Hal continued with a smile:
"I have the permission of Colonel English, sir. I hope that I may be of some assistance to you. Do not hesitate to call upon me for any piece of work that you may wish accomplished."
"Help yourself," he said, "and don’t worry. If I’ve need of your services you may be sure I won’t hesitate to ask for them."
Suddenly the sound that Hal had been expecting came. It was the blast of a great gun, close at hand. The advance of the Americans had been discovered. Colonel English took his decision instantly.
The Americans went forward with a wild yell.
A volley of rifle fire met the first rush of the Americans. Sleepy-eyed Germans, aroused from their slumber by the sound of the warning gun, poured from their shelter and rushed forward through the streets of the village. Hastily machine guns were wheeled into position, and a veritable rain of bullets swept the ranks of the charging columns in khaki.
But the Americans did not falter. These men of the Forty-second division upheld the traditions of the American army. True, they had been under fire before and it was not to be expected that they would falter; but well might a man have faltered in the face of the terrible fire poured in upon them. Each man bent to his work with a determination that boded ill for the foe. Some dashed forward with wild yells, others smiled quietly to themselves, while still others joked with their nearest neighbors. Here and there men dropped in their tracks, to rise no more, but others leaped over the bodies and dashed ahead.