Read Online Casca 21: The Trench Soldier by Barry Sadler - Free Book Online Page B

on top of one of the trenches and guessed that it was a British shell exploding. But these shells had only the slightest comic effect on the ants below. A few of them would fall down, a few others would move a little more quickly for a second or two, and then it seemed they would all revert to their previous pointless, slow activity.
    "Did you ever see such a stupid, boring, bloody waste of time in your life?" the officer beside him muttered. Then a little louder, "Take those glasses and see if you can make any sense of it, eh, private?" Casca took up the binoculars. They helped somewhat. He could see that the tiny animals were indeed men, and looking over the captain's shoulder, he could now see that the shape of the river below them approximated the wriggly line on the captain's map. And some rather straighter lines, he realized, were roads. The captain was busily dotting the map with new information – trench and gun positions and troop concentrations. He pointed to the biggest curve in the river on his map.
    "Can you find this place on the ground?" he asked.
    That was easy enough even without the glasses. And when Casca brought the binoculars to bear on the spot, he saw great numbers of men moving about with field pieces and wagons.
    "Looks like they're setting up a large artillery emplacement," he said.
    "Yes. Just as I thought." The captain's finger moved eastward away from the bow in the river. "And here, somewhere about here – what's going on there?"
    Casca moved the glasses slowly, trying to approximate the line of the officer's finger. He saw a lot of men, many mules and wagons, and some large tents, a few of which were marked with red crosses.
    "Looks like a field hospital," he finally answered.
    "Oh, I thought it was more guns. Well, we'll leave them alone. Bad enough for the poor blighters being wounded, eh, without being shelled in their beds. But it certainly is a big hospital – must be getting ready for a major push, eh?" He handed Casca a tightly rolled paper on which he had noted the coordinates of what they had observed. "Break out one of those pigeons, will you, and send her off with this info."
    Casca reached through the spring door into the pigeons' cage and brought out a bird. Placing the paper in the clip on its leg, he threw it over the side. The bird fell like a stone, but after a little way opened its wings and leveled out to sweep around in a wide circle. Then it headed for the British lines where it knew the bird handler was waiting with some tasty seeds, breadcrumbs, and affectionate pats.
    The balloon was now squarely over the German lines, and Casca saw tiny puffs of smoke from the trenches as riflemen chanced their aim at the balloon. But he heard no gunshots or the whine of bullets passing anywhere near.
    "Dumb krauts," the officer chuckled. "They don't realize we're moving all over the sky and even if they could get a good shot, the bullet's losing power every foot it climbs. By the time a round got up here, you could damn near catch it in your hand."
    Casca had already caught all the hot lead he ever wished to and had no intention of trying this experiment. But he picked up his Lee Enfield and took careful aim at one of the tiny figures in an open area below. The man seemed to dance away out of the rifle sight, then back in a sort of irregular circle. Casca concentrated and managed to keep returning the tiny figure to the bead of the sight. When he squeezed the trigger he was gratified to see a tiny puff of dirt rise close to the German who turned and ran for the safety of a trench.
    "Damn near got him, eh," the captain chuckled. "Curious, eh? We're so big and they're so small, but they make the better targets."
    "If I had something like a Mills bomb," Casca answered, "and a way to aim it, I could hit a target down there."
    "Yes," the officer pondered; "you're a pretty good marksman. Would you like to go lower and try a closer shot?"
    Casca looked over the side at the tiny creatures.