As Billy had not as yet opened his mouth, he thought the general was rather ahead of his questions in the last quoted particular.
“Allow me, general, to introduce Mr. Trouville, a native of France, who only lacks the years to vote in America. He has the desire, I assure you. As for myself, I am William Thomas Barry of Maine, United States of America, known as Billy—and together we are known as the Aviator1 Boys. We are in the flying trade, and with your kind permission we would like to fly now.”
The officers observed the boys with new interest. The London Times had some months ago printed the experiences of a prominent English visitor to America, who had seen these young a?rialists in some of their sky-scraping exhibits, and had even taken a short flight with Billy.
“We military fellows are all great for aviation—it’s a big card in this war game”—this observation from the member of staff seated nearest the general—a[59] thoroughbred sort of man who also wore the badge of valor2. “And more than that,” he added, “I have a boy of my own in the flying corps3 of the army.”
It occurred to Billy that this officer might care to hear the sad story of the death flight of the British youth that they had witnessed on the shores of the North Sea.
Billy, in real dramatic style, described the thrilling incident. There was no lack of attention on the part of his listeners; especially did the man who looked like a thoroughbred seem lost to everything else but the tale the boy was so earnestly telling. When Billy produced from the inside pocket of his blouse the photograph and ring that he had taken from the heart pocket and finger of the dead aviator there was strained silence, first broken by the man who had been most intent as a listener.
“It was my boy, my own son!”
This man who had faced shot and shell with never a tremor4 on many a blackened battlefield, and had won the magic initials “V. C.” after his name, bowed his head in grief and not ashamed of the sob5 in his throat.
“Some day, God willing,” he softly said to Billy, “you shall guide his mother and me to that resting place.”
A bugle6 call outside aroused the officers to the[60] grim business of the hour. The roar of another battle would soon be on.
The general turned the boys over to the care of a veteran soldier, a sergeant7, with strict orders that they should not be allowed to leave the rear of the brigade about to advance.
Billy and Henri, however, had the opportunity of observing during their first actual army experience, even though of the rear guard, the striking device of a French officer in order to steady his men, in an infantry8 regiment9, called upon for the first time to face the discharge of German shells. For a moment the men hesitated, and even made a slight movement of withdrawal10. Instantly the officer seemed to have taken in the situation. The boys heard him shout:
“Halt! Order arms!”
Then, quite coolly, he turned his back upon the enemy—for the first and last time—whipped out his camera, called upon his men not to move, and proceeded to take a leisurely11 snapshot of his company while shells were falling all around.
The men were astonished, but the officer’s purpose was served. The company was steadied, and the boys, from the top of a supply wagon12, watched them go gallantly14 to work. Sad to relate, the watchers also saw the gallant13 officer fall soon afterward15, struck on the head by a fragment of shell.
“I tell you, General Sherman was right in what[61] he said about war.” Billy was very positive in this expression of opinion.
On that day of fearful fighting the boys saw an entire German regiment perish in the rush of water which swept through the trenches16 after the Allies had destroyed the dikes; they saw hundreds of men and horses electrocuted on the heavily charged wire entanglements17 before the trenches.
At nightfall Billy and Henri, heartsick with the horror of it all, crawled under the wagon cover and fought nightmares through the long hours before another day.
It was raining in torrents18 when the boys peeped through the tear in the wagon shelter early the next morning, and it had turned sharply cold. The roar of the batteries had slackened for the time being, and it was a welcome moment for Billy and Henri, who on the day previous had heard more gunpowder19 racket than ever they did on all the Fourths of July they had ever known rolled into one.
Stepping out gingerly into the mud, the boys looked around for their friendly guardian20, Sergeant Scott. He was nowhere to be seen among the few soldiers in khaki uniforms and woolen21 caps moving about among the wagons22. They soon learned that the sergeant had made a capture during the night of one of the enemy’s secret agents who had penetrated23 the lines for the purpose of cutting[62] telephone wires. The spy or sniper carried cutters and a rifle. From behind the lines with the rifle he had been shooting at men passing to and fro, but when he ventured inside with the cutters the sergeant nabbed him, though the invader24 was cleverly disguised in British outfit25. Both captor and captive were up-field at an “interview,” from which only the sergeant returned.
When he observed the boys shivering in their tracks, Sergeant Scott called to a teamster to fetch a blanket from one of the wagons. Borrowing a knife from the teamster, the sergeant slashed26 the big army blanket in two in the middle, doubled each fold and made two slits27 in the top.
“Jump into these, my Jackies,” he ordered; “shove your arms through. Now you won’t catch a frog in your lungs, and you’re swell28 enough to make a bet on the races. Come along and tighten29 your belts with something in the way of rations30.”
“By the way,” confided32 the sergeant, “Colonel Bainbridge has taken a heap of interest in you youngsters. His son, I heard, lost his life in one of those flying machines.”
“Yes, we were the ones that told him about it. He’s sure a grand man,” added Billy.
“Well,” continued the sergeant, “there are some of us going to work around toward Lille and the[63] River Lys region to assist in extension of the Allies’ line there. If Colonel Bainbridge commands the movement, between ‘you and I and the gate-post,’ yours truly wants to go ’long.”
点击收听单词发音
1 aviator | |
n.飞行家,飞行员 | |
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2 valor | |
n.勇气,英勇 | |
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3 corps | |
n.(通信等兵种的)部队;(同类作的)一组 | |
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4 tremor | |
n.震动,颤动,战栗,兴奋,地震 | |
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5 sob | |
n.空间轨道的轰炸机;呜咽,哭泣 | |
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6 bugle | |
n.军号,号角,喇叭;v.吹号,吹号召集 | |
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7 sergeant | |
n.警官,中士 | |
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8 infantry | |
n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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9 regiment | |
n.团,多数,管理;v.组织,编成团,统制 | |
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10 withdrawal | |
n.取回,提款;撤退,撤军;收回,撤销 | |
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11 leisurely | |
adj.悠闲的;从容的,慢慢的 | |
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12 wagon | |
n.四轮马车,手推车,面包车;无盖运货列车 | |
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13 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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14 gallantly | |
adv. 漂亮地,勇敢地,献殷勤地 | |
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15 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
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16 trenches | |
深沟,地沟( trench的名词复数 ); 战壕 | |
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17 entanglements | |
n.瓜葛( entanglement的名词复数 );牵连;纠缠;缠住 | |
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18 torrents | |
n.倾注;奔流( torrent的名词复数 );急流;爆发;连续不断 | |
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19 gunpowder | |
n.火药 | |
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20 guardian | |
n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
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21 woolen | |
adj.羊毛(制)的;毛纺的 | |
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22 wagons | |
n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 );铁路货车;小手推车 | |
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23 penetrated | |
adj. 击穿的,鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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24 invader | |
n.侵略者,侵犯者,入侵者 | |
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25 outfit | |
n.(为特殊用途的)全套装备,全套服装 | |
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26 slashed | |
v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 );鞭打;割破;削减 | |
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27 slits | |
n.狭长的口子,裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开,撕开( slit的第三人称单数 );在…上开狭长口子 | |
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28 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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29 tighten | |
v.(使)变紧;(使)绷紧 | |
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30 rations | |
定量( ration的名词复数 ); 配给量; 正常量; 合理的量 | |
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31 snug | |
adj.温暖舒适的,合身的,安全的;v.使整洁干净,舒适地依靠,紧贴;n.(英)酒吧里的私房 | |
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32 confided | |
v.吐露(秘密,心事等)( confide的过去式和过去分词 );(向某人)吐露(隐私、秘密等) | |
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33 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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