Megiddo's Shadow by Arthur Slade

Author:Arthur Slade [Slade, Arthur]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical, War, Young Adult
ISBN: 9780006395683
Google: Ih6i0d8f3g0C
Amazon: 0385909454
Barnesnoble: 0385909454
Goodreads: 1149607
Publisher: Wendy Lamb Books
Published: 2006-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Cheevers joined me; Blackburn, too, followed by Pitts. Several seconds later most of the regiment was singing or shouting the words:

“When there's trouble brewing,

When there's something doing

Are we downhearted?

NO! Let 'em all cornel

Here we are! Here we are! Here we are again!”

At least we were fighting back with our voices. Maybe the Germans had stopped to listen to us.

The gun roared, and a screeching shell struck only thirty feet away, smacking several troopers off their feet. The heat of the explosion burned us; metal splinters whistled by. We cowered but held our position.

Many of the singers were moaning now. Dr. Purves, his orderlies, and the chaplain sifted through the wreckage of metal and men.

The section next to us was already in their boat, ready to be lowered.

“Did someone order abandon ship?” I asked.

“We're going too fast,” Blackburn said. “They shouldn't be in the lifeboats.”

A shell hissed through the air and cut the davit rope, and the lifeboat tipped and dumped the men into the water.

“Oh, God,” I whispered. “Oh, God, save them. Save them.”

They were bobbing in the sea, waving their hands, mouths open, but their yelling was drowned out by the noise of the ship. “Cut the davits!” Sergeant Applewhite commanded. “Let the boat drop!” I yanked out my knife and Cheevers and I hung over the edge, Blackburn and Pitts holding our legs. We hacked at the thick ropes until they snapped and the lifeboat fell. It smashed into the side of the ship and rolled in the air, miraculously landing upright. Who knew if the men could even reach it, let alone pull themselves aboard.

Captain Trollope walked by, his riding stick under his arm. “Hold your positions, and don't lower any more boats! Good lads! Look the Huns in the eye. Sing another song!”

Look and sing, that was all we could do.

Trollope carried on. “Hold the line! Hold—”

A flash filled my vision as something struck my temple and I collapsed. I struggled to open my eyes, but all I saw was blue sky and smoke. There was no sound and I couldn't feel my arms or legs. The sky shifted, and the deck of the ship and a face came into focus. I was being propped up by Blackburn. “Bathe! Bathe! Are you hurt?”

I could hear again, and see, so I still had eyes and ears. I sucked in a cloud of sooty smoke and coughed so hard I thought my chest would burst. “I'm all right.” I sat up and counted my fingers. Ten. Shrapnel had torn a hole through my uniform and sliced my shoulder. I poked at it and found a trickle of blood. “Just a scratch!” Blackburn nodded and moved on. I was able to stand again on shaky legs.

Several troopers were facedown on the deck. The tongue of one hung out like a dead calf, and he was missing his lower jaw. Then I noticed his stripes and recognized the top half of his face—Sergeant Applewhite. My sergeant was dead.

I took a wobbly step and stumbled over a leg, reached down and picked it up.

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