"Think of it," exclaimed Leon as they hurried along. "If we'd stayed in that dug-out two minutes longer we'd been dead now."
"Death comes quickly in war," remarked Jacques. "It hangs by a thread and you never can tell when it is going to strike you."
They soon reached the spot where their company was located and along with the rest of those who were off duty were immediately ordered into the deepest of the shell-proof dug-outs, where they were really quite safe.
"We're in for it, I guess," remarked Dubois laconically, as Jacques and Leon entered the dug-out. Earl and Armande were also there.
"Sure we are," exclaimed the latter brightly. "What of it?"
"Not half as many as there will be Boches," said Armande. "Just wait until they send their infantry out; our machine-guns will make them wish they were back in their trenches."
"You're an optimist, Armande," said Earl. "Just listen to those shells up there."
"The Boches will come out about dark," said Armande. "We might just as well sleep until then."
"Not with that going on," exclaimed Leon. "At least not for me."
An hour later they were all ordered out. Every man had on a mask to guard against the poisonous gas that the Germans used so frequently just before they launched their attacks. Oftentimes too they would shower the opposing trenches with shells, causing irritation and smarting of the eyes so that the men could not see to shoot. Now and again they used liquid fire which shot out half a hundred feet from especially made machines somewhat resembling the nozzle of a hose.
The surprising thing is that the French could withstand all those terrible engines of destruction. Sheer courage had helped them the first time they were used and after that they were always provided with some good means of defense. The French are remarkably quick to learn.
It was dark as the men came up out of the dug-out. They had scarcely taken their places when there was a sudden hurricane of rifle and machine-gun fire. Almost instantly the whole battered landscape became lighted up under the flare of innumerable trench-rockets. Far ahead, the enemy, in irregular lines, could be seen advancing to the attack.
"Here they come," cried Armande. "Let 'em have it!"