Page:History of the 305th field artillery (IA historyof305thfi01camp).pdf/251

Rh Lieutenant Thayer and the 16th officer decided to take their men to a flank until the show should end.

"Jump out and run for it after the next shell," they directed.

One burst closer than before. The little party clambered from the trenches. Some were quicker than others. A following shell hit directly on the lip of the smaller trench. The 16th officer fell back, his rain coat drilled full of jagged holes. Private Martin W. Silber slipped in on top of him, and the rest turned back without hesitation to see what could be done. They lifted Silber out. He was dead. The 16th officer had not been injured.

So those that remained dashed to the left and fell in shell holes where they waited for the curtain to lift again. But gas came in for a time with the high explosive, and they put on their respirators and worked from shell hole to shell hole until they were out of range.

In the command posts at the farm everyone knew the ridge and the crossroads were getting it. Our men were in the observatory and our platoons before long would have to pass the crossroads.

A drop on the switchboard fell.

“Silber's dead," the operator commented.

He commenced to test.

“O.K.—O. K."

He paused, He whirred the magneto of his home telephone.

“Red line out, sir."

A moment later he reported two other lines out. That's the way they went at Les Près.

Linesinen left through the noisy darkness with coils of wire and testing telephones over their shoulders.

In the First Battalion cellar the operator called to Major Easterday.

“Second Battalion wants you, sir."