The French
family could not do too much for them, and the daughters of the house
waited on the table. Almost before the meal was finished the alerte
sounded, and the battle was on them. When they retreated by the house
where they had been so prettily entertained such a few hours before,
there was not one stone standing on another, and what became of the
family he had no idea.
The other that I remember was of the way the Germans passed the river at
Saint-Quentin and forced the battle at La Fere on them. The bridge was
mined, and the captain was standing beside the engineer waiting to give
the order to touch off the mine. It was a nasty night--a Sunday (only
last Sunday, think of that!)--and the rain was coming down in torrents.
Just before the Germans reached the bridge he ordered it blown up. The
engineer touched the button. The fuse did not act. He was in despair,
but the captain said to him, "Brace up, my lad--give her another
chance." The second effort failed like the first. Then, before any one
could stop him, the engineer made a dash for the end of the bridge,
drawing his revolver as he ran, and fired six shots into the mine,
knowing that, if he succeeded, he would go up with the bridge.
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