Part 21 (1/2)
One of the sentries presently came to a halt in the shadow cast by a tree. He was thus out of sight of his comrades on either side, and the three men in deadly attendance upon him were satisfied that their chance had come. Noiselessly emerging from the shadows, they stole upon him from behind. One seized him by the throat in a grip of iron, stifling all utterance, another pinioned his arms to his sides, while the third caught the rifle which fell from his startled hand. Between the three the struggles of the unfortunate sentry were quickly mastered. He was securely pinioned, gagged, and dragged out of harm's way into the shelter of the bushes.
The capture of one made the capture of the two others comparatively easy. It was only necessary to await a moment when the farther sentinel was facing away from the next man marked down for attack, before springing upon him. One after the other the three guards were successfully placed out of action, and the stern work of reprisal was at hand.
As a precautionary measure, two men, wearing the tunics and helmets of the captured Germans, were stationed as sentries one at each end of the break, to satisfy their German neighbours in case they should miss the sight of the comrades who had gone.
Then rapidly Max selected two pairs of rails, one pair on the up-line and one on the down-line, and the dozen great spanners were quickly at work. Certain of the nuts of the rails and of some of the chairs were carefully loosened a little, and everything was made ready to s.h.i.+ft one end of each rail as soon as the signal should be given. Then the men withdrew once more to the obscurity of the bushes.
Having satisfied himself that everything was in readiness, Max settled himself to watch the trains as they pa.s.sed, and to seize upon the essential moment. Trains were now running less frequently than at every hour in the twenty-four, and in the comparative silence he could tell when a train was approaching while it was yet some miles away. It was his intention to await the almost simultaneous approach of two trains from opposite directions, and in steady patience he waited.
His men did not know the full extent of his plans and were impatient to see the result of their--to them--successful labours. They could not understand this halt, and grumbled under their breath at the strange hesitancy of their young leader. But everything had gone so well under his guidance that none of them dared to express his discontent aloud, and Max was left to put the finis.h.i.+ng touch upon his plans in peace.
Suddenly his ear caught the sounds he had been awaiting.
”Forward!” he commanded in an undertone in two languages.
The men sprang quickly on to the lines and wrestled with the nuts and bolts with all their might. In a very short s.p.a.ce of time the rails were loose at one end and the chairs removed. Then Max gave the word for all four rails to be levered inwards, towards the centre of the track, until the loose ends were a foot out of line with the other rails.
The chairs were then roughly refixed at the extreme ends of the sleepers, and the bent rails bolted as firmly as possible in their new positions. While this was being done the four rails next the gaps were unbolted and entirely removed. When all was done there was a break 40 feet long in each track, and the pair of rails on the side from which the trains were approaching had been bent inwards, and now pointed towards the corresponding pair on the other track, thus:--
[Ill.u.s.tration]
For the first time the men now understood the whole significance of the work they were doing. They had known enough of their young leader's plans to expect much, but now they expected a great deal more and moved off the track full of suppressed excitement and jubilation. Like a pistol-shot it had come to them that the brutal destruction of the poor village beyond Bastogne was about to be very amply revenged indeed.
The rumble of the two trains approaching from opposite directions was now drawing very close, and the men hung about in the bushes, a few yards up the side of the cutting, watching eagerly for any sign that the drivers had seen the short breaks in the line and were bringing their trains to a standstill. But there was no sign of this. The trains approached at a steady speed, and the drivers, if on the look-out, noticed nothing amiss in the patches of deeper shadow in the half darkness of the gloomy cutting.
The two trains reached the fatal spot almost at the same moment. Both followed the direction of the tampered rails and left the track with a b.u.mping grind that made those who heard it shudder. Then they collided with a crash that could be heard for miles. The engines reared up almost on end--as though in a desperate attempt to leap over one another--and rolled over on their sides. Behind them the great wagons still drove on and piled themselves up on high in a welter of hideous confusion.
The noise, the confusion, the sense of dire destruction, were almost paralysing; but, almost without being conscious of it, Max found himself eagerly scanning the wrecked wagons to see what they contained. The ”bag” was one sufficient to satisfy the most ardent patriot. The trucks, or some of them, of the train bound outwards to Liege clearly contained the guns of several heavy batteries. Those of the inward train were filled with machinery and other stores filched from the great Belgian workshops and being transferred to Germany to set up fresh works there.
A few of the trucks of the inward train appeared to contain sh.e.l.ls, and these Max marked down as the point for the final attack.
The noise of the collision, of course, brought all the men guarding the line, within hearing, hurrying to the scene. None of them, or of the survivors of those on the trains, had any thought that the catastrophe was anything but an accident, and no attempt was made to search for possible enemies. Most of the German soldiers, indeed, flung down their weapons and busied themselves in the task of extricating men and horses from the piles of overturned wagons.
Thus when again, at Max's signal, the band of British and French soldiers left their hiding-places they were able, in the darkness, to mingle with the Germans and go about their final work almost unchallenged. In only two instances were German officers or non-commissioned officers inconveniently inquisitive, and those difficulties were solved by an instant attack with the bayonet. Even these conflicts were insufficient to attract special attention amid the general turmoil. Any who noticed the actions might readily enough have concluded that they were the result of a quarrel or of some demented victim of the accident attacking an imaginary foe.
The work which still kept Max and his auxiliaries on the dangerous scene of their successful exploit was that of bringing down great bundles of straw and dead wood, prepared some time beforehand, from the top of the railway cutting where they had been hidden in readiness. The wagons, which Max had ascertained to be indeed full of sh.e.l.ls, were what they were after, and against these the bundles were piled. Almost unmolested the exulting men made all ready for the final blow which should set the seal upon their terrible reprisal.
And yet, when it came to the point, Max hesitated to give the order to fire the pyre. There might yet be some unfortunate men pinned alive beneath the wreckage, and he was unwilling to add to their miseries the dreadful fate of being burned alive. For ten, fifteen, and almost twenty minutes he waited, until he could feel satisfied that none were likely still to remain alive beneath the pile. His own men indeed, well knowing what was coming, had busied themselves in dragging out their fallen foes from the certain fate which would otherwise have befallen them, forgetting their desire for reprisals in their pity for wounded and helpless men.
At last the moment arrived. Max gave the word, the straw was fired, and the band beat a hasty retreat to the shelter of the bushes on the north side of the cutting.
A loud cry of warning and alarm arose from the German soldiers as the flames shot up into the air, illuminating the track for many yards around. A harsh command rang out, and a number of men dashed forward to beat or stamp out the flare.
”Those men must be kept away, Corporal,” cried Max quickly. ”We must not leave until the fire has got firm hold.”
”Bayonets, men,” cried Corporal Shaw sharply. ”Get ready to charge home.”
”No, no, Corporal,” cried Max, seizing him by the arm; ”no bayonet fighting this round. Keep them away by rifle-fire from the bushes. They know nothing of us now; let them remain as ignorant as possible.”
”Right. Ten rounds, rapid, boys! Ready! present! fire!”