He had seen his hopes blasted when rushed by the big crowd of the
Hun patrol, and, though slightly wounded, he realized that absolute
defeat would come to him and his men unless he could get help. He
sent a runner back with word to send relief, and then, surrounding
himself with what few men remained alive and uncaptured, the fight
went on.
It was bitter and sanguinary, and at last, with only two men left
beside him, the lieutenant heard the rush of the relief guard. He
was placed in charge, as he knew the lay of the land, and the party
hurried to and fro, wiping up little knots of Germans here and
there, until the main body encountered the squad having in charge
the two air service boys.
"You began to think it was all up with you, didn't you?" asked the
lieutenant, when they were all once more safely in the dugout.
"We certainly did!" admitted Tom.
"We had visions of watery soup and wheatless bread for the rest of
the war," observed Jack.
He and Tom were slightly wounded--mere scratches they dubbed the
hurts--but they were sent to the rear to be looked over and
bandaged, as were some of the others who were more severely hurt.
There were some who could not be sent back--who were left in No
Man's Land silent figures who would never take part in a battle
again. They had paid their price toward making the world a better
place to live in, and their names were on the Honor Roll.
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