Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII WHEN THE MARINES WENT IN Bello Wood, now famous, was a long narrow strip of woodland leading off to the eastward in a broad open valley a little to the north and east of Chateau Thierry and a few hundred yards to the left of its western end is the now equally well known village of Lucie-le-Bocage. It was this ward that General Bridges' men were assigned to take, and before which they were now lined up, dug in and ready to leap to their work at word of command. A few days only had elapsed since the interview between Grace Harlow and General Bridges, since which time Grace had been up rather close to the line on several occasions, for there had been desperate fighting almost continuously, day and night, and the casualties were heavy.
The problem of getting up supplies was left almost wholly to the ambulances that is food supplies for the ambulances could dodge in with such supplies more quickly and more quietly than could the big trucks so the ambulance corps again did double duty
carrying wounded men one way and food the other way That June afternoon the Germans seemed to know that the marine tiger was crouching for a mighty leap and they were hurling tonnes upon tonnes of steel on and beyond the rise of ground just to the westward of Bellow Wood.
Behind this wood, in a well-sheltered spot, stood the ambulances close up, perilously close up, with their drivers under the protection of the little rise of ground. A long one-storey stone house to the left was supposed of observation for the time being, that is, it was until an enemy shell smashed into it and wrecked it. Grace, who had been sitting on the ground with her associates back there,
listening to the enemy shells screeching overhead, crept up the rising ground until she could see the top of the observation post from the top of the roof down to the eaves. Just beyond that lay the woods, dark, mysterious and dangerous. She knew that out in that stone house were the eyes of the attack, and that beyond, in the woods, were enemy eyes watching every movement within range of their vision.
General Bridges was there, so she had been told, in the old stone house, practically between the lines, his line of communication being a ground telephone wire strung by two creeping signal men who had wriggled around the end of the little hill under cover of a thin fringe of bushes. Just before five o'clock in the afternoon, the zero hour, meaning the hour at which the marines were to go in, the Americans sent a scattering artillery fire into the forest, and shortly after that the firing on both sides died down, as if both sides had decided to waste no more ammunition on the other.
Then, and for a few moments, silence settled over the scene. It was a peaceful scene, too, with waving grain off in the valley, a field of green wheat to the left, and the sun hanging low on the horizon. The silence was a brief duration. It was the law before the blast. A trilling whistle sounded to the left, and another to the right, whistles that thrilled Grace Harlow, that caused her heart to beat faster, and little nervous chills to race up and down her back,
for she knew that those whistles indicated the zero hour. The marines are going in, she murmured. May heaven help those brave fellows. There they go. On both sides of her she saw them spring up,
on the left to enter into an open wheat field, on the right into an open field of half-grown grass. The platoons advanced steadily into these fields with no protection and it was then that the earth seemed to split wide open with the crashes of the enemy's guns out there in those dark forbidding woods.
She saw men stumble and fall, some to rise again and stagger forward, others disappearing altogether. Gaps began to appear in the lines that kept pressing steadily forward. Bullets of small calibre, machine gun and rifle bullets were hissing low above the crouching ambulance girl, for the Germans were shooting low with
their small arms, while their heavy gunfire was higher to sweep the planes to the rear of the marines and retard the bringing up of reserves. They're wavering, moaned Grace, as the men on her left began to throw themselves down, when within a mere hundred yards, as nearly as she could judge of the woods, and there they lay, shooting from their positions prone on the ground, but not seeking to make further advances in the face of that certain death to all of them.
On the right the marines were doing better. They were moving in as steadily as if on parade, but for some reason they had not suffered so much as had their fellows at the opposite end of the line. There was neither running nor shouting, but just a steady moving forward that so thrilled the watching woman that she could scarce repress a shout of admiration and encouragement. Shrapnel and high explosives were now bursting, but the fascination of that terrible scene was
greater than her fears for her own safety, and besides, she felt that she would be as safe there as down below where her companion drivers were waiting until the stretcher bearers could get out and bring in the wounded. Twilight had settled over the scene before Grace realised that time had passed so swiftly,
but in that time she had lived a lifetime. Now she saw the men on the left spring up and under cover of the uncertain light move steadily forward as had their brothers on the right of the line. First the right of the line disappeared into the mysterious forest
then those on the left went in The crash of falling trees added to the terror of sound and above the tops of the trees lived flashes of flame flickered throwing the forest itself into a more sombre shadow than before Artillery fire from the German side was incessant
but since the troops went in the American artillery had elevated its fire and was raking the forest further to the eastward so as not to hit their own men in there. The thought of thousands of men locked in deadly combat in the darkness of Bellow Wood almost terrified Grace Harlow.
That any of them ever would come out alive she doubted and then again the number of men on the German side that were in there was unknown to the American officers. It was sheer pluck and moral stamina that permitted the Marines to go through with the job that had been set before them. Crash! Crump!
It was a new sound in the uproar, but having heard it before, Grace knew that a building had been struck, and then she saw what building it was. The O.P. observation point is hit, she cried. What's that you say? shouted a voice in her ear. "'The observation post, Mr. Baldwin, and the general in command is out there.
"'I'm going out, Mr. Baldwin. "'If the general is not dead, he surely will need assistance. "'No, no, Mrs. Gray, you can never make it,' "'protested the young ambulance driver. "'I must.
"'The fate of the battle may depend upon it, upon getting to the general. "'If anyone goes, I'll go myself,' declared Jimmy. "'Look out for the calls. "'That's what you are here for. Grace shouted and was off with the bound across the open space like a frightened animal fleeing from the hunter's gun
not even pausing to think that the advice she had given Jimmy Baldwin was equally applicable to herself. Bullets whizzed past her head and ripped through the growing wheat about her with a swish swish swish. In the faint light she could see the tops of the wheat swaying as if under the pressure of an unsteady wind. It was not a pleasant thing to contemplate that those waves of the wheat field were stirred by bullets, and perhaps it was fortunate that Grace Harlow had little time for contemplation. The Overton girl stumbled at the edge of the ridge overlooking the stone house and went rolling and tumbling down, never stopping until she brought up at the bottom.
She was on her feet in an instant, leaping for the building. One end of it was a mess of ruins, and Grace, taking the first entrance that came under her observation, crawled in through a window from which all the glass had been knocked out. Once inside the house the noise of the battle was lessened, for the walls were thick and the end toward the enemy was crumbling ruin. General Bridges! shouted Grace. Oh, General!
Hearing no reply, Grace crawled further into the massive wreckage and resumed shouting. General, are you here? Yes. Hurry, I'm suffocating, came the reply in a weak voice, the location of which she was at a lost place. Where are you? You are about standing on me. Get me out in the air as quick as possible. Grace drew her flashlight, knowing very well that she was courting death by showing a light there,
but she knew also that there was no time to be lost and she must see what she was to do. Put out that light, shouted someone behind her. The light flashed out in a twinkling. "'Who—who is it?' gasped Grace. "'It's Baldi. Want to bring down a shell on our heads? Is he here? Yes.
Hurry, please. The general is under this pile of wreckage, and he must have air. We must dig, dig, dig, with all our might!' Throwing herself down, Grace went to work with her companion driver assisting. There were heavy stones to lift and pieces of timber, slivers from which tore their hands and clothing,
but they did not know it as they dug and dug, all the time sending cheering messages to the man imprisoned under the mass. Rapid progress was made there in the black darkness, while outside the tide of battle raged furiously, rising and falling, the old stone house quivering under shock after shock as shells broke in its vicinity. Where are you? called Grace, groping about after they had removed a lot of wreckage. here under this piece of roof my legs are fast one of you lift it if you can and the other pull
you may pull my legs off but i don't care about that so long as you leave my head jimmy baldwin after feeling about and getting the general's position fixed in his mind found a piece of scantling and using this as a lever succeeded in raising the weight from the officer's legs sufficiently to enable grace to pull him out and there the general lay breathing heavily for several minutes while Grace fanned him with her steel helmet. Are you wounded? she asked finally.
Yes, I think something hit me in the legs. Don't know whether it was a piece of shell or a stone that hit me. The ligaments of both legs appear to be torn. Grace informed him after examining the wound solely by the sense of touch. Jimmy, we must get him back at once. No, no, protested the General. My runners will be coming back here. I can't leave. You were going to leave, and at once.
Jimmy, will you take him over to the ambulances and send a runner to post one for a surgeon to come out and dress the General's wounds? He must go to a dressing station. I will take him there. You had better not suggest that to him, warned Grace. General Bridges will not leave the field so long as he has a breath left in him.
Do you think that you can get him across without both of you being hit? I'll go round to the right where for some reason the fire doesn't appear to be so severe. There are some stone farm buildings just beyond here which perhaps are intercepting the small arms fire. And now what do you propose to do? Stay here to direct the general's runners where to find him, answered Grace promptly. Telephone connection here was destroyed when the building
got smacked so the general would have to rely wholly on his runners to keep him informed of the progress of the battle. It is vital that he should continue in touch with them. Very good, agreed Jimmy after a few seconds' thought. It is a desperate chance for you and for me, either way you look at it, but that is a part of the game. While you were man, I should feel better about your staying here, but—
Leave the question of sex out of it, retorted Grace sharply. Now, General, we are going to take you to the ambulances where you will have medical attention. I'll not go exclaimed the officer oh yes you will I have arranged so that your runners may find you there
and you will be having attention from the surgeon and from your runners at the same time Mr Baldwin I will help you get him through the window now added Grace to her companion in a lower tone please hurry
Jimmy gave Grace a quick hand clasp then together they shuffed the protesting threatening officer out Grace asked him if they had given him pain. Never mind me. I'm only a general, growled the suffering officer. General Bridges appeared to be getting weaker,
leading Grace to surmise that he had lost considerable blood. Once outside of the house, Jimmy got the general on his own back, the officer's arms around his neck and staggered away, Grace Harlow watching from the window of the doomed house until the young ambulance driver and his burden had disappeared into the night.
End of chapter 7. Recording by Ashley Jane.
