e
breathed softly to himself. "Tell them what they should do for the sake
of France, and...."

Dave Dawson never finished that prayer. At that moment there came to his
ears a new and entirely different sound. At first he could think only of
tons of brick sliding down a slanting tin roof. Then suddenly he knew
what it was, and in that same instant the rising hysterical scream of
the passing throngs echoed his own thought.

"_Les Boches! Les Boches!_ Take cover at once!"

Like thousands upon thousands of stampeded cattle the refugees broke
ranks and went scattering madly and wildly in all directions. Carts and
wagons were left where they had come to a halt on the road with their
horses, or oxen, or dogs standing dumb eyed and drooping in their
tracks. Dave stayed where he was for an instant, not moving an inch, and
his eyes fixed upon the cluster of dots streaking down from the blue sky
high overhead. In the twinkling of an eye they ceased to be dots. They
became planes! German planes. Heinkels, and Messerschmitt 110's, and
Stuka dive bombers. Winged messengers of doom howling down upon the road
choked with wagons and carts, and countless numbers of helpless
refugees.

Even as Dave saw them the leading ships opened fire. Tongues of jetting
red flame spat downward, and the savage yammer of the aerial machine
guns echoed above the blood chilling thunder of the engines. Tearing his
eyes from that horrible sight Dave glanced back at the road. It was
still filled with frantic men, women, and children, and at the spot
directly under the diving planes bullets were cutting down human lives
as swiftly as a keen edged scythe cuts down wheat.

His feet rooted to the ground, Dave stared in horror. Then suddenly one
of the diving Stukas released its deadly bomb. The bomb struck the
ground no more than twenty feet from the edge of the road. Red, orange,
and yellow flame shot high into the air. A billowing cloud of smoke
filled with dirt, and dust, and stones fountained upward. Then a mighty
roar akin to the sound of worlds colliding seemed to hammer straight
into his face. The next thing he realized he was flat on his back on the
ground gasping and panting for air while from every direction came the
screams of the wounded and the dying.

The screams seemed to release a hidden spring inside of him and make it
possible for him to set himself into action. He scrambled to his feet,
stared wild eyed up at the diving planes and shook