The Boy Allies with Haig in Flanders; Or, the Fighting Canadians of Vimy Ridge
The Boy Allies with Haig in Flanders; Or, the Fighting Canadians of Vimy Ridge by Clair W. Hayes
The Boy Allies with Haig in Flanders; Or, the Fighting Canadians of Vimy Ridge by Clair W. Hayes
The rain fell in torrents over the great battlefield, as Hal Paine and Chester Crawford, taking advantage of the inky blackness of the night, crept from the shelter of the American trenches that faced the enemy across "No Man's Land."
In the trenches themselves all was silence. To a spectator it would have seemed that the occupants were, either dead or asleep; yet such was not the case.
It is true that most of the men had "turned in" for the night, sleeping on their arms, for there was no means of telling at what moment the enemy might issue from his trenches in another of the night raids that had marked this particular sector for the last few weeks; but the ever vigilant sentinels stood watch over the sleeping men. They would sound an alarm, should occasion demand, in ample time to arouse the sleepers if an enemy's head appeared in the darkness.
Hal and Chester, of course, left the American trenches with full knowledge of these sentinels; otherwise they might have been shot.
Once beyond the protecting walls of earth, they moved swiftly and silently toward the German trenches less than a hundred feet away-just the distance from the home plate to first base on a baseball diamond, as Hal put it-ninety feet.
These two lads, who now advanced directly toward the foe, were lieutenants in the first American expeditionary force to reach France to lend a hand in driving back the legions of the German Emperor, who still clung tenaciously to territory he had conquered in the early stages of the great war. These boys had, at one time, been captains in the British army, and had had three years of strenuous times and exciting adventures in the greatest of all wars.
Their captaincies they'd won through gallant action upon the field of battle. American lads, they had been left in Berlin at the outbreak of hostilities, when they were separated from Hal's mother. They made their way to Belgium, where, for a time, they saw service, with King Albert's troops. Later they fought under the tricolor, with the Russians and the British and Canadians.
When the United 'States declared war on Germany, Hal and Chester, with others, were sent to America, where they were of great assistance in training men Uncle Sam had selected to officer his troops. They had relinquished their rank in the British army to be able to do this. Now they found themselves again on French soil, but fighting under the Stars and Stripes.
On this particular night they advanced toward tile German lines soon after an audience with General John J. Pershing, commander-in-chief of the American expeditionary forces. In one hand Chester carried a little hardwood box, to which were attached coils of wire. In the other hand the lad held a revolver. Hal, likewise, carried his automatic in his hand. Each was determined to give a good account of himself should his presence be discovered.
It was unusually quiet along the front this night. It was too dark for opposing "snipers"-sharpshooters-to get in their work, and the voices of the big guns, which, almost incessantly for the last few weeks, had hurled shells across the intervening distance between the two lines of trenches, were stilled.
Hal pressed close to Chester.
"Rather creepy out here," he said.
"Right," returned Chester in a whisper. "I've the same feeling myself. It forebodes, trouble, this silence, to my way of thinking. The Huns are probably hatching up some devilment."
"Well, we may be able to get the drift of it, with that thing you have under your arm," was the other's reply.
"Sh-h!" was Chester's reply, and he added: "We're getting pretty close."
They continued their way without further words.
Hal, slightly in advance, suddenly uttered a stifled exclamation.
Instantly Chester touched his arm.
"What's the matter?" he asked in a whisper.
"Matter is," Hal whispered back, "that we have come to a barbed-wire entanglement. I had forgotten about those things."
"Well, that's why you brought your 'nippers' along," said Chester. "Cut the wire."
Hal produced his "nippers." It was but the work of a moment to nip the wires, and again the lads advanced cautiously.
A moment later there loomed up before them the German trenches. Hal stood back a few feet while Chester advanced and placed the little hardwood box upon the top of the trench, and scraped over it several handfuls of earth. The lad now took the coil of wire in his hand, and stepped down and back. The lads retraced their steps toward their own lines, Chester the while unrolling the coil of wire.
The return was made without incident. Before their own trenches the boys were challenged by a sentinel.
"Halt!" came the command. "Who goes there?"
"Friends," returned Hal.
The sentinel recognized the lad's voice.
"Advance," he said with a breath of relief.
A moment later the boys were safe back among their own men.
"If the Germans had been as watchful as our own sentries, we would have had more trouble," said Hal.
"Oh, I don't know," was Chester's reply. "I saw a German sentinel, but he didn't see me in the darkness."
"It was his business to see, however," declared Hal.
"Well, that's true. But now let's listen and seen if we can overhear anything of importance."
Chester clapped the little receiver to his ear. Hal became silent.
Ten minutes later Chester removed the receiver from his ear.
"Nothing doing," he said. "I can hear some of the men talking, but they are evidently playing cards."
"Let me listen a while," said Hal.
Chester passed the receiver to his chum, and the latter listened intently. For some moments he heard nothing save the jabbering jargon of German troopers apparently interested in a card game. He was about to take the receiver from his ear, however, when another voice caught his attention
He held up a hand, which told Chester that something of importance was going on.
"All right, general," said a voice in the German trenches, which was carried plainly to Hal's ear by the Dictaphone.
"Stay!" came another voice. "You will also order Colonel Blucher to open with all his guns at the moment that General Schmidt's men advance to the attack."
"At midnight, sir," was the reply.
"That is all."
The voices became silent.
Quickly Hal reported to Chester what he had overheard.
"It's up to us to arouse Captain O'Neill," said Chester. He hurried off.
Hal glanced at his watch.
It was 10 o'clock.
"Two hours," the lad muttered. "Well, I guess we'll be ready for them."
A few moments later Captain O'Neill appeared. He was in command of the Americans in the first line trenches. These troops were in their present positions for "seasoning" purposes. They had been the first to be given this post of honor. They had held it for several days, and then had been relieved only to be returned to the front within ten days.
At command from Captain O'Neill, Hal made his way to the south along
the line of trenches, and approached the quarters of General Dupres.
To an orderly he announced that he bore a communication from Captain
O'Neill.
"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the French commander, when Hal had delivered his message. "So they will attack us in the night, eh? Well, we shall receive them right warmly."
He thought a moment. Then he said:
"You will tell Captain O'Neill to move from the trenches with his entire strength. He will advance ten yards and then move one hundred yards north. You may tell him that I will post a force of equal strength to the south. He will not fire until my French troops open on the enemy."
Hal returned and reported to Captain O'Neill.
It was plain that the American officer didn't understand the situation fully. However, he simply shrugged his shoulders.
"General Dupres is in command," he said. "I guess he knows what he's doing or he wouldn't be here."
Captain O'Neill gave the necessary commands. The American troops moved from the trenches in silence. There was a suppressed air of excitement, however, for each man was eager for the coming of he knew not what.
The Boy Allies in the Balkan Campaign The Struggle to Save a Nation by Clair W. Hayes
The Boy Allies Under the Sea; Or, The Vanishing Submarines by Clair W. Hayes
The Boy Allies in Great Peril; Or, With the Italian Army in the Alps by Clair W. Hayes
From the book:On the twenty-second of February, 1916, an automobile sped northward along the French battle line that for almost two years had held back the armies of the German emperor, strive as they would to win their way farther into the heart of France. For months the opposing forces had battled to a draw from the North Sea to the boundary of Switzerland, until now, as the day waned - it was almost six o'clock - the hands of time drew closer and closer to the hour that was to mark the opening of the most bitter and destructive battle of the war, up to this time. It was the eve of the battle of Verdun.
The Boy Allies with the Victorious Fleets; Or, The Fall of the German Navy by Clair W. Hayes
On her wedding day, Marissa learned she wasn't her parents' real daughter. Once the true heiress returned, her fiancé and adoptive parents cast her off to a rural backwater-and into an arranged marriage. Only the "village" turned out to be the nation's most exclusive enclave, and her birth family led an elite dynasty that spoiled her rotten. Garages held rare supercars; vaults opened to couture and jewels. School or family business, she chose her pace. Her "rustic" husband proved lethal, loyal, and absurdly protective. Her ex crawled back, yet she cut him off cold, "Stay the hell away from me."
Winona had agreed to pretend to be her boss's girlfriend at an event where his ex-wife planned to show up with the guy she had cheated with. "We'll see how this turns out."
Dayna had worshiped her husband, only to watch him strip her late mother's estate and lavish devotion on another woman. After three miserable years, he discarded her, and she lay broken-until Kristopher, the man she once betrayed, dragged her from the wreckage. He now sat in a wheelchair, eyes like tempered steel. She offered a pact: she would mend his legs if he helped crush her ex. He scoffed, yet signed on. As their ruthless alliance caught fire, he uncovered her other lives-healer, hacker, pianist-and her numb heart stirred. But her groveling ex crawled back. "Dayna, you were my wife! How could you marry someone else? Come back!"
I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.
To marry his first love, Deanna's husband of three years faked his death. Hiding behind his twin brother's identity, he and his family ran a cruel con. Her sobbing didn't move him. To impress that woman, he even had Deanna punished. As agony lit every nerve, she chose to walk away. With a sharp flick, she sent the ring into his face and wed a comatose tycoon, brushing off her ex's belated begging. A bleak future seemed certain-until the "coma" turned out to be an act. Under cover of night, her new husband pinned her down and murmured against her ear, "Baby, why don't we go another round?"
Once Alexia was exposed as a fake heiress, her family dumped her and her husband turned his back on her. The world expected her to break-until Waylon, a mysterious tycoon, took her hand. While doubters waited for him to drop her, Alexia showed skill after shocking skill, leaving CEOs gaping. Her ex begged to come back, but she shut him down and met Waylon's gaze instead. "Darling, you can count on me." He brushed her cheek. "Sweetheart, rely on me instead." Recently, international circles reeled from three disasters: her divorce, his marriage, and their unstoppable alliance crushing foes overnight.
© 2018-now CHANGDU (HK) TECHNOLOGY LIMITED
6/F MANULIFE PLACE 348 KWUN TONG ROAD KL
TOP
GOOGLE PLAY