were ordered to
do.

They reached the first German trenches which were named the _Ludwig_.
The Huns named their trenches so as to identify them readily in orders
and upon the maps. These trenches were empty and they went on to a row
of fancy concrete and iron dugouts, called by the Germans _Karlsruhe_,
where they made their headquarters for the night.

The next day they met stubborn resistance from artillery and nests of
machine guns, but they were able to make progress. In the first mile
they passed over twelve abandoned trench systems.

As they went forward they left men behind at regular intervals to keep
them in touch with the regimental headquarters. Along this line of
men, stationed near enough together to communicate easily with each
other, orders, ammunition, and rations could be passed.

The Germans knew their plan and as the battalion in the next days
gradually got ahead of the main American line and out of touch with it
on the flanks, the Huns pushed through, killed part of the men on the
line of communication, and surrounded it, placing machine-gun nests in
the rear.

When Major Whittlesey discovered their predicament, he directed his
adjutant, Lieutenant Arthur McKeogh, with two men to make an attempt to
get back to regimental headquarters and inform the colonel of the
situation. Lieutenant McKeogh has told the story of his success. It
is intensely exciting and makes one shiver at the horror of men, who
have no personal enmity but might be friends, killing one another, and
also makes one thrill with pride and admiration for the courage that
dares even to death--not the quick death of the glorious charge, but
the slow death of thirst, exhaustion, and fatigue. It shows us the
worst and the best of war, and that the worst is too great a price to
pay for the best. Lieutenant McKeogh writes in an article in
_Collier's_:--

I took Munson and Herschowitz, and on hands and knees, with drawn
revolvers, we began a detour of the nests. I was keeping my direction
by compass every foot of the way. We had been going a scant ten
minutes when shots from a light Maxim and rifles broke out in front. I
thought we had been spotted, but after a wait, when we started again,
we crawled within a few feet of the real target, now lifeless; he was
in khaki and apparently he had strayed from his outfit. During our
wait we saw a boche passing through the trees. From the crackling of
the brush there seemed to be oth