Dave Porter's war honors

“A hit! A perfect hit!”

“That’s the time we showed the Huns what we can do!”

“Say! do you know I believe we killed every Jerry in the bunch?”

So the cries and comments ran on as the fighting engineers surveyed the havoc they had wrought. The hand-grenades had exploded with terrific force, sending pieces of the machine-guns almost to where they were standing. All the gun crews had been either killed or fatally wounded, some of the bodies being horribly mutilated.

“It certainly makes a fellow sick to look at it,” murmured Dave to Roger.

“So it does, Dave. But this isn’t child’s play. It’s stern war.”

The machine-gun nests had been seen from a distance, but the Yankee soldiers had had no opportunity to get at them. Now the annihilation of the nests was viewed with astonishment, which quickly turned to intense satisfaction. A cheer went down the line, and then in a twinkling the Americans came over at those who had advanced to lay them low.

The outbreak had been nothing but a skirmish at the start, but now it was gradually growing into a genuine battle. Before night the fighting line extended for over a mile and a half, and the conflict kept up long after darkness had fallen.

Having accomplished his purpose, Dave ordered his command to retire. They were just leaving the end of the gully to get back to the trench when the young sergeant saw Captain Obray running toward him.

“What does this mean, Sergeant Porter? Where have you been?” called out the captain of the engineers.

“We’ve just blown up two machine-gun nests, Captain,” answered Dave, with pardonable pride.

“What? Were you responsible for those explosions we heard in that direction?” and the captain pointed with his hand.

“Yes, sir,” answered Dave; and related some of the particulars. “I sent Jackson and Meeks back with a prisoner.”

“Yes, I saw them with the fellow, but just then I had no time to ask them the particulars,” answered Captain Obray. “You certainly have done wonderfully well. Those machine-guns were doing terrible execution on our boys. With those guns going, we could not have advanced at this point.”

The captain then told Dave that he and the men under him must retire along with the rest of the engineering unit.

“Two regiments of the regulars are coming this way,” he announced, “and they can hold this ground a great deal better than we can. And besides that, there will be plenty of work for us to do just as soon as this battle comes to an end. Unless I miss my guess, we are going to make quite an advance on Jerry;” Jerry being the name by which the Germans were occasionally designated—why, no one could tell.

The advance and the retirement over the rough rocks of the gully had been no easy task for the engineers, and all were glad enough to go back to the shelter of the unfinished dugout. As they went down the slope Dave paused just long enough to see a company of the regulars come into view on the double-quick.

As said before, the fighting continued far into the night, and early in the morning it was renewed and did not come to a stop until about the middle of the afternoon. By that time the Americans had made an advance along the line from a half mile to two miles deep; and once more they began to dig in with all possible speed.

It was a night not easily forgotten by Dave and his chums. They had had no supper, and to cook under such circumstances was practically out of the question. They used their emergency rations, and about two o’clock in the afternoon saw some of the kitchen details coming forward with hot stew and coffee. These, along with chunks of bread, were eagerly devoured by the hungry engineers.

“Well, we sure did make a record for ourselves in this battle,” remarked Buster, when the fighting had come to an end. “We ought to get some credit for smashing up those gun nests.”

“You’ll get it, don’t you worry,” returned Dave. “You just wait until I make my report.”

The news soon circulated that Dave and his detail had been instrumental in annihilating the two German machine-guns with their crews, and the major of the engineering unit himself came down to the quarters to praise the young sergeant and shake hands with every fellow who had been with him.

“Captain Obray reported this, but I want more of the particulars,” said the major. “It was grand! You are certainly helping us keep up the name of the fighting engineers.”

Partial recognition of what Dave and those under him had done came very shortly afterwards. All were cited for bravery, and those who had not yet received medals did so, much to their satisfaction.

“I knew you fellows would get medals sooner or later,” declared Dave to his chums, as he shook hands with them. “I tell you it takes the Oak Hall boys to cover themselves with glory.”

“Yes, but it was your plan that we followed, Dave,” said Roger. “I don’t believe anybody else would have thought of it.”

After that came two weeks of hard work, in the midst of which another storm descended upon the engineers, making them miserable for a day or two.

“But I don’t care,” announced Dave grimly. “We’re pushing right ahead, and that means a whole lot. Anything to down the Huns!”

The next morning the skies cleared, and then the aviators began to get busy. Dave watched them for a while, for flying always interested him greatly.

“I think if I wasn’t an engineer I would like to be an airman,” he told Roger.

“Exactly my idea, Dave. But we are engineers, and I suppose we’ve got to stick to our jobs until the war is over.”

“I’m making a bet the war will be over by Christmas,” broke in Phil.

“Oh, I don’t believe the end will come so quickly as all that!” cried Buster. “I think it will probably keep on until the middle of next summer. By that time Germany will have come to the end of her resources, and she will have to sue for peace.”

“I believe the Central Powers are worse off than we imagine,” said Dave. “They are simply putting on a bold front, hoping by some manner of means to bring us to terms.”

“Say, maybe they’ll come to terms like the girl did when the fellow wanted to marry her!” cried Shadow. “At first she declared that she wouldn’t marry him until he earned at least fifty dollars a week. He was then getting twelve. A few weeks later he came to her and announced that the boss had raised his wages to fifteen dollars. ‘All right, Jack,’ said the girl. ‘Now that you’ve got your raise I suppose we had better get married. Fifteen dollars is pretty near to fifty anyhow.’” And at this there was a general laugh.

Two days later came word to Dave that thrilled him greatly. He received a commission as a lieutenant of the engineers, while Roger and Phil became sergeants and Ben was made a corporal.

“Allow me to congratulate you, Lieutenant Porter,” said Captain Obray, grasping Dave’s hand warmly. “I think this gives me almost as much pleasure as it does you.”

“It certainly makes me feel good, I won’t deny it,” returned Dave, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “I thought I was going some to become a sergeant. But to be a lieutenant of the engineers! I never dreamed I would get that far when I joined.”

“I hope to see you get farther yet before this war is over,” said the captain encouragingly, and then he went down the line congratulating Roger and the others on their promotions.

“Well, I suppose we’ve got to bid you farewell now, Dave,” said Ben. “As a commissioned officer, you won’t want to herd with us common fellows any more.”

“Don’t you believe it for a minute, Ben,” was Dave’s quick reply. “Of course, when we are on duty I’ve got to be your lieutenant, but when I’m not on duty you can take it from me that we are going to be the old chums we have always been,” and he caught his first boy friend by both hands and looked at Ben in a manner that meant a great deal.

Of course, all of the engineers who had been promoted had to send the glad tidings to those at home. Dave wrote a long letter to his father and another to Jessie, while Roger penned like communications to his folks in Washington and to Laura, and Phil did not forget his own people and Belle Endicott, who was now visiting the Porters.

But as the sunshine had followed the storm, so a cloud came two days later to mar our hero’s happiness. He received a letter from Jessie which had been over two weeks on the way. In that the girl mentioned the fact that some folks in Crumville were treating her rather queerly, and that one girl in particular, on whom Max Gebauer had been in the habit of calling, had made a rather odd remark. The girl’s name was Benson, and of her Jessie wrote:

Then the girl went on to admit that evidently some folks had got the wrong impression concerning her and her intimacy with Gebauer. She added that she and Laura were going to do what they could to straighten matters out. By reading between the lines Dave was made well aware of the fact that the girl he regarded so highly was having anything but a pleasant time of it because of what the young jewelry manufacturer from Philadelphia had done and said. And it was evident that Nat Poole had backed up Gebauer as far as was in his power.

“It’s an outrage! That’s just what it is—an outrage!” declared Dave, when he talked the matter over with Roger. “I just wish I could be back in Crumville for a few days. I’d show those folks a thing or two.” The idea of having his Jessie suffer was maddening.

“I don’t think you ought to lay it to the folks in Crumville,” returned the senator’s son. “I think you ought to lay it to that Gebauer and Nat.”

Now that Dave had been made a lieutenant of the engineers he resolved to do everything in his power to make a creditable showing as a commissioned officer. He studied his engineering textbooks and his volumes on French and German at every opportunity. Nor did he hesitate to go to Captain Obray and some of the other upper officers for advice and instruction. This pleased the older men greatly, and they did all they could to encourage our hero.

Some days later, when all was quiet in that sector, Dave obtained permission to go to a French town about fifteen miles behind the lines. He wanted to make a few necessary purchases, and as Roger and Phil also wanted to buy some things they secured permission to go with him.

The three caught a ride a short part of the distance, and then walked the rest of the way. They were just on the outskirts of the town when they saw an American soldier ahead of them with a small French lad by his side. The French lad, who was gaunt in appearance, as though half starved, was lugging a large round bundle wrapped in old newspapers.

“Please, Monsieur! Please, I cannot carry the package any farther,” wailed the boy in French, and he made a move as if to let the package drop.

“Here, you! None of that!” cried the soldier, catching the boy by the shoulder. “Go on with that, or I’ll give you something you won’t forget very soon!” and he shook his fist in the French boy’s face and then shoved him along.

“Hello! I wonder what’s the matter with that brute!” cried Dave, when he saw this action. “It’s a shame to make a lad like that carry such a big bundle.”

“And the poor little chap looks half starved, too,” was Phil’s comment.

“Come on! Let us look into this!” cried Dave. “No soldier has any right to treat a French boy like that!” And he strode forward, never dreaming of the surprise in store for him.