f the defenders.

He reached the crown of the wooded hill without finding a second
lieutenant who was not a referee. He had almost reached the bottom of
the forward slope when a small bush jumped up and yelled, "Hey, jerk!
Why'n't ya watch where ya goin'?"

Wims pulled back just in time to avoid falling into a well camouflaged
machine-gun nest. One of the foliage-covered gunners, thinking Wims was
about to topple on him, jumped aside. His ankle twisted under him and he
fell, catching the barrel of the machine gun just under the edge of his
helmet and sagging into unconsciousness.

A platoon sergeant heard the steely clatter and rushed over. "That's
funny," he growled ominously, "I coulda sworn I set up a machine-gun
emplacement here but it's makin' noises like a boiler factory."

The assistant gunner pointed to the unconscious gunner. "He fell an' hit
his head. He's breathin' but he ain't movin'."

The chattering of a machine gun from the woods opposite the hill was
noted by the sergeant and he knew the Blues would be coming soon. He
turned to the gunner. "Get up the hill an' snag one of our looeys or a
referee. Tell 'im we got a man hurt here, needs lookin' at."

The gunner dashed off and the sergeant jerked his thumb at Wims. "You!
Get on that gun!"

"But Ah got an important message fer the lieutenant," Wims protested.

The sergeant, annoyed, glanced at the green bar. "What lieutenant?"

"The captain said the lieutenant in charge."

"Gimmee the message. I'll tell 'im."

Wims started to protest but the sergeant's eyes crackled. "Well, the
captain said fer the lieutenant not to move out 'til he saw the white
flare fired outta the woods on his left."

"Not to move out?" the sergeant echoed doubtfully. "That don't sound
right. Are ya sure he didn't say not ta _fire_ until we saw the white
flare?"

"Maybe that's it," Wims said agreeably.

"Maybe!" the sergeant roared, "whaddaya mean, maybe?" He grabbed Wims by
the collar and pushed his face against the boy's as if he were about to
devour him. "Is it YES or NO?"

"Y-yes," Wims agreed nervously.

"What's your name, soldier?" the sergeant asked.

"Dolliver Wims."

"You don't happen to be a gen'ral do ya?"

Wims looked confused. "No," he ventured.

"Well then say so!" the sergeant screamed.

"Ah'm not a gen'ral," Wims said, desperately trying to please.

"Are ya tryin' ta get wise with me? WHAT IS YOUR RANK?"

"Private."

"Now, what's your name,