Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 59: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Sergeant of Cavalry 41 Nell poked his head over the edge of the shell hole. Oh man! There was a column of big husky Huns advancing at the gallop, so near that Nell could see their expressions. They looked mean. Their coal-scuttle helmets shadowed their faces and from un- der the vizors peered burning eyes, tight- lipped scowls and teeth skinned by blood- curdling grins. These Boche were not tired looking, their uniforms were neither wet nor torn, they displayed intense eagerness to drink hot blood from Yankees’ throats. Nell thought of a crowd he had once seen sweep off the center field bleachers and start for an umpire. Pop bottles began to fly. They weren’t really pop bottles, but stick grenades, as the sound soon told. Nell remembered that once upon a time a famous man had said that the Americans had no quarrel with the German people. Nell wished that man was there then to remind those Germans of that fact. ! The Germans had come out from behind the town—there must have been a trench there—and were attacking the right of the American advance. Two-thirds of the Americans could not fire because their own men were between them and the Germans, and the Germans had foreseen that when the counter attack had been planned. They moved along rapidly. Some Yanks stood up. in the first bunch of shell holes and gave battle. The counter attack rolled over them without even hesi- tating, the Germans being very nearly fifty to one. The men in the next shell hole had their hands in the air when they stood up. They might just as well have put up a fight. Some of the Americans began to go away and Nell remembered that he had no rifle. He looked to see if there were any on the ground, and discovered that he was alone, and the rush not ten feet away. Something struck him on the arm, numbing it. He thought at once that he had been hit, but on looking he saw a stick grenade still rolling in the bottom of the shell hole. Nell retired. A man that disputes the way with an express train is not called brave. All along the line the Americans gave back. The men weren’t panic-stricken, but they saw quite clearly that they were licked and there was no use staying there to be mopped up by those wild barbarians with their sawtoothed bayonets. It was lucky the Germans had no cavalry, thought Nell. A cavalry charge at this time would have gone through and through the lines, lashed a retreat into a panicky rout, hurled these men back in a mob upon their machine- guns, and driven the remnants into the river to drown. Infantry, while they may achieve the same initial success as cavalry, can not exploit it, for they can not move any faster, or even as fast, as the men who are retreating. NOW in back of the Yank ad- vance had been machine-guns, one-pounders and mortars, using = overhead fire. When the Ameri- caus reached these guns there was some effort made to stop them. There were non- coms and an officer or two there who made heroic efforts to get the men to turn. The American artillery, unaided by balloon or plane and firing blindly for the most part, had its own observers on the high ground across the river, and these had telephoned their guns the instant the rush began. It takes a minute or two to figure a little fire dope and change the sights, but now the enemy column was getting a flock of shells in its ranks. The machine-guns were pounding it with a will and its formation began to have cracks in it. Panic is much like a fire in dry leaves. It starts from very little, but it doesn’t take long to spread and the farther it goes, the worse it gets. Nell tried hard to keep his head, but every time he looked around he saw men going, and when he got to the machine-gun line, he could see two or three guns already abandoned. {t looked as if all the ground that had been taken with so much trouble, and that had cost so many lives, was going to be lost. The Germans were advancing from right to left of the Americans, their idea being to roll up the flank and drive the Yanks out of their positions so near the town. Hence Nell, who had run parallel with the river, had got some distance from the boche. He jumped into a shell hole to catch his breath, and removed his mask to breathe easier. ‘Got a letter for me?”’ said a voice. Nell turned. Behold the high cheek- bones and lantern jaw of the hard-boiled man. COMIGDIOOKSEEO