Army Boys in the French 
Trenches (Or, Hand to Hand 
Fighting with the Enemy) [with 
accents] 
 
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Title: Army Boys in the French Trenches 
Author: Homer Randall
Release Date: January, 2006 [EBook #9789] [This file was first posted 
on October 17, 2003] 
Edition: 10 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, ARMY 
BOYS IN THE FRENCH TRENCHES *** 
 
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ARMY BOYS IN THE FRENCH TRENCHES 
OR 
HAND TO HAND FIGHTING WITH THE ENEMY 
BY 
HOMER RANDALL 
AUTHOR OF "Army Boys in France" and "Army Boys on the Firing 
Line" 
Illustrated by ROBERT GASTON HERBERT 
1919 
 
[Illustration: There was a grinding, tearing, screeching sound, as wire 
entanglements were uprooted.] 
 
CONTENTS 
I A SLASHING ATTACK 
II THE UPLIFTED KNIFE 
III TAKING CHANCES 
IV BETWEEN THE LINES 
V THE BARBAROUS HUNS 
VI A TASTE OF COLD STEEL 
VII NICK RABIG'S QUEER ACTIONS
VIII COLONEL PAVET REAPPEARS 
IX THE ESCAPE 
X A GHASTLY BURDEN 
XI WITH THE TANKS 
XII BREAKING THROUGH 
XIII CAUGHT NAPPING 
XIV IN CLOSE QUARTERS 
XV THE FOUR-FOOTED ENEMY 
XVI CHASED BY CAVALRY 
XVII THE BROKEN BRIDGE 
XVIII RESCUE FROM THE SKY 
XIX PUTTING ONE OVER 
XX SUSPICION 
XXI A FAMILIAR VOICE 
XXII THE SHADOW OF TREASON 
XXIII A HAIL OF LEAD 
XXIV A DEED OF DARING 
XXV STORMING THE RIDGE 
 
 
CHAPTER I 
A SLASHING ATTACK 
"Stand ready, boys. We attack at dawn!" 
The word passed in a whisper down the long line of the trench, where 
the American army boys crouched like so many khaki-clad ghosts, 
awaiting the command to go "over the top." 
"That will be in about fifteen minutes from now, I figure," murmured 
Frank Sheldon to his friend and comrade, Bart Raymond, as he glanced 
at the hands of his radio watch and then put it up to his ear to make sure 
that it had not stopped. 
"It'll seem more like fifteen hours," muttered Tom Bradford, who was
on the other side of Sheldon. 
"Tom's in a hurry to get at the Huns," chuckled Billy Waldon. "He 
wants to show them where they get off." 
"I saw him putting a razor edge on his bayonet last night," added Bart. 
"Now he's anxious to see how it works." 
"He'll have plenty of chances to find out," said Frank. "This is going to 
be a hot scrap, or I miss my guess. I heard the captain tell the lieutenant 
that the Germans had their heaviest force right in front of our part of 
the line." 
"So much the better," asserted Billy stoutly. "They can't come too thick 
or too fast. They've been sneering at what the Yankees were going to 
do in this war, and it's about time they got punctures in their tires." 
At this moment the mess helpers passed along the line with buckets of 
steaming hot coffee, and the men welcomed it eagerly, for it was late in 
the autumn and the night air was chill and penetrating. "Come, little 
cup, to one who loves thee well," murmured Tom, as he swallowed his 
portion in one gulp. 
The others were not slow in following his example, and the buckets 
were emptied in a twinkling. 
Then the stern vigil was renewed. 
From the opposing lines a star shell rose and exploded, casting a 
greenish radiance over the barren stretch of No Man's Land that 
separated the hostile forces. 
"Fritz isn't asleep," muttered Frank. 
"He's right on the job with his fireworks," agreed Bart. 
"Maybe he has his suspicions that we're going to give him a little 
surprise party," remarked Billy, "and that's his way of telling us that 
he's ready to welcome us with open arms."
"Fix bayonets!" came the command from the officer in charge, and 
there was a faint clink as the order was obeyed. 
"It won't be long now,"    
    
		
	
	
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