sickening. But war is not child's play, and the gallant upholders of Old Glory made the best of it.
"Forward!" shouted Ben to his command, as the order came from his superior, and forward went Company D over the field to where there was a small irrigating trench, now half filled with water. The cracking of rifles—Mausers and old Springfields—was constant, and more than one man went down, a few never to rise again.
"Tell you vot," panted Carl Stummer, "of dem Filibinos keep on running, ve got to go after dem mit automopiles, hey?"
"Either thim or trolley cars, Carl," answered Dan Casey. "It's mesilf that's gettin' tired av sprintin' like a college athlete afther 'em."
Soon the command was in the thickest of the fighting, and then Ben and Larry got another taste of what this long-drawn-out war meant.
