THE RAID

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 281, 16 August 1918, Page 6

THE RAID

AN EPISODE OF WAR QUEST FOR A LIVE GERMAN (By Rifleman Patrick Mac Gill, Author of "The Great Push," Eto.J

The job was a dangerous one, as all raids are, esi.-cially on a clear night when the world is lit by a full and brilliant moon and No Man's Land is ablaze with star-shells. Tho men had crossed from the British trenches, their faces darkened and their bayonots sheathed. They had crawled out for most of tho way. It was dangeious to stand up, as enemy patrols might be wandering about, and tho job was not one to be spoilt by a chance encounter with a party ot the foe. What the raiding party wanted was a live German, one who could provide useful information. The raiding party crawled through tho enemy wire and lay down as a machinegun snapped through tho night, fhen the firing ceased, tho men got to their feet again, and made one rush forward. Bayonets were bare now, and shine glinted on the weapons. One ot the mon, a soldier named .Ryan, did not go forward. When the men 6prang to their feet ho lay close to the earth, put the green branch which he carried over his head, and fixed his eyes on his mates as they rushed tho lip oi the trench and disappeared behind_ it. A flashing ot bayonets, steely bright, showed for a moment over the sandbags, and then became one with tho dark lino of tho parapet. Thero was the dull roar of bombs bursting in dug-outs; muffled shrieks and agonising yells followed. The men wero getting on tho job. "Well, it's much, safer lym here, said Ryan. A thiu stream of blood was trickling down over his collar. ''Wonder what's made mo feel so queer. 111 be all right when they com© buck, and 111 ffst back with them." Away 011 tho right stw-shells rose m the ail', glittered, and died. .The dewdrops sparkled in front of Ityan, and waved backwards and forward as tho grass to which they hung rippled in tho night breeze. In front a bayonet appeared over the parapet, and was followed bv a head surmounted by a round helmet. Ryan could see tho face of tho man, and even as ho saw it the face, bayonet, helmet and all disappeared. The man was drawn back into tho trench. A hoarse yell fpllowed, and then a strange silonce settled on tho trench in front.

"I'm feelin' very sloepy," said Ryan, speaking to himself in a whisper as if afraid of being heard. "Sloepy, but I must keep awake if only to get in. . . . If I'm asleep, I'll forget ... I wonder if they havo missed me. ... I hope . . He closed his eyes only to open them as a few bullets whistled overhead. Tho machine-gnn was at work again, and bombs were bursting in the trenches. More yelling and more cursing. . . . "I'll have a sleep anyway," said Ryan in a weik, nerveless voice. "It doesn't matter. -.... 1 feel go stupid somehow." Again he closed his eyes, and again he woko with a start, feeling tho presence of a danger that was in some way very near. He looked to the right and .there he saw, quite close to him, black figures silhouetted against the sky.-They were not twenty yards away, and instinctively Ryan know that they were not his own mates. They were Germans; three, four, five of them. A patrol party probably; returning to the trench after finishing the rounds of No Man's Land. The sight was more than sufficient to rouso Ryan from '.his dazed condition.

"If I couldn't go on with tho'boys, maybe I can help them he said, and reached for his .rifle.

Ho stretched tho riflo out in front of him and ran liis eye along the barrel. To his dazed sight the weapon seemed big and ponderous, more like the barrel of a machine-gun than a riflo. But 110 took aim, pulled tho trigger, and one of tho silhouetted figures disappeared as if it had dived through the earth.

Tho report and recoil of his riflo woke Ryan to full consciousness. A mad- berserker rago took possession of him. He fired madly until lio emptied every round in the magazine. Then he slipped another, clip into tho weapon and looked for more Germans to kill. But the dark figures had disappeared, and two shadows were just vanishing over tho sandbags into tho trench.

"Back with you, you swino!" Ryan heard somebody shout, and he recognised tho voice as that of his own platoon sergeant. Two figures came towards Ryan and were on tho point of passing him when ono of them bent down.

"Hero he is!" he exclaimed. "Hullo, Ryan, old man, what are. you lying hero for? We'vo been looking evorywhere for you. Been hit?" "Dunno," said Ryan in a drowsy voice. "Let mo alone, I want to sleep." "Come and givo me a hand here, boys," said the man, calling in a hoarse whisper to his mates. "Come and give mo a hand. Old Ryan's been hit."

Two men came back, and they raised the soldier from tho ground.

"Lemmo be! Leiurne be!" said Ryan in a husky voice. "I want to have a sleep.' "All right, you come back with ns, and you'll have a 6leep when \ve get homo again," said ono of the men. Ryan was carried in by the raiders, who had also two German prisoners in their charge. He was sent to hospital, and when there ho recovered consciousness. He had onlv a very dim remembrance of the events of the raid. "I was lying down with my mates," he told the doctor. "We were waiting for a machine-gun to stop its row, and I don't remember much more. But somehow I got very sleepy. I didn't know what had happened to me, and 1 didn't seem to care. All I wanted was to havo a sleep. And then I saw somo Germans to shoot at, and that bucked me up a lot. I don't think I hit any of tliein, though." Ryan's supposition was wrong, as the two prisoners captured on the night of the raid can testify. Three other Germans might have testified to tho 6amo effect, but they will never do so 111 this world. ■■