turned to sweep the intervening space between the lines, the
whisper rose to a shirring hiss. The men dropped to the ground,
flattening themselves into the earth. But Talbot stood still. Now, if
ever, was the time when an example would count. If they all dropped to
the ground every time a machine gun rattled, the job would never be
done. So, hands in his pockets, but with awful "wind up," he waited
while the soft patter of the bullets came near and the patter
quickened into rain. As it reached him, the rain became a fierce
torrent, stinging the top of the parapet behind them as the bullets
tore by viciously a few inches above his head. Then as it passed, it
dropped into a patter once more and finally dropped away in a whisper.
Talbot suddenly realized that his throat was aching, but that he was
untouched by the storm. The men slowly got to their feet and continued
their work in silence. Although the machine gun continued to spatter
bullets near them all through the hours they were working, not once
again did the men drop when they heard the whisper begin. The job was
finally done and they filed wearily back.

The attack was timed to come off at dawn. An hour before, while it was
still as black as pitch, the tanks moved again for their final
starting-point. McKnutt's machine was the first to go.

"Cheero, McKnutt," we said as he clambered in. "Good luck!"

The men followed, some through the top and some through the side. The
doors and portholes were closed, and in a moment the exhaust began to
puff merrily. The tank crawled forward and soon disappeared into the
blackness.

She had about fifteen hundred yards to go, parallel with the
Hindenburg Line, and several trenches to cross before coming up with
the enemy. We had planned that the tanks would take about three
quarters of an hour to reach their starting-point, and that soon after
they arrived there, the show would begin.

Since it was still dark and the attack had not commenced, McKnutt and
his first driver opened the windows in front of them. They looked out
into impenetrable gloom. It was necessary to turn their headlights on,
and with this help, they crawled along a little more securely. A
signal from the driver, and they got into top gear. She bumped along,
over shell-holes and mine-craters at the exhilarating speed of about
four miles an hour, and then arrived at the first trench to be
crossed. It was about ten feet wide with high banks on each side.

"On