A thousand men might be sacrificed in this endeavor, but what of that? Human material could be replaced readily enough, but it took months to build up one of those magnificent forty-two centimetre mortars with which they meant to batter down the defences of Paris, and win the war.
At the moment the three boys reached their point of observation things were rapidly drawing near a crisis. The French troops were undoubtedly getting wild to be let loose upon the waiting enemy; only their commander knew that the chances were as two to one they would not be able to get across the river so long as that one battery in particular commanded the ford. Its shells were able to sweep over every yard of the crossing, and could cut down those who were wading desperately through the waist-deep water, as though they were helpless flies.
"What are they waiting for, do you think, Rod?" asked Josh, between the roars of the opposing guns.
"The French leader hates to sacrifice so many of his brave men while that battery is in a position to sweep the ford," replied the other, without hesitation, showing that he had grasped the situation even in that brief time.
"Well, tell me how he expects to get rid of the same?" continued Josh, though he had to place his lips close to Rod's ear, and fairly bellow his words in order to make himself heard, such was the increasing din close by.
"Perhaps he keeps hoping that some of his own guns will be able to locate the German battery among the bushes there, and disable it," said Rod.
Hanky Panky pulled at his sleeve. When Rod turned his head he found the other pointing excitedly upwards, and upon casting his own eyes in that quarter Rod instantly knew what his chum meant.
"Two French aeroplanes going up, sure enough!" he exclaimed.
"Mebbe they mean to try and drop bombs on the battery, so's to destroy it!" suggested Josh, whose attention had also been drawn to the new feature in the lively drama taking place before them.
Rod nodded his head to signify that the idea struck him as worth while. Even had he attempted to speak just then his effort would have been pretty much wasted, for the din had become something terrible. A thousand French soldiers were cheering, even while being held in check by their officers; they made Rod think of hounds restrained by the leash, and loudly bewailing their inability to jump forward. He could easily imagine with what frantic zeal those men would leap ahead and into the waters of the Marne when the time came.