“Let ’im be, Mole,” Bagger said, waving him back to the table. “If Hellfire Jack’s not questioning his age, neither are we. Besides, we need all the help we can get. I was in a meeting at the command center with Major-General Harington and the other crew leaders before picking up these lads. Jones’s crew is almost finished with the Kruisstraat Four chamber, which leaves only Banning’s crew working on the Ontario Farm gallery and us.”

“If Jones’s crew is almost done, why doesn’t command send us their tunnelers?” Bats asked as he shuffled the cards.

“They’re being sent to Vimy along with most of the hundred and seventy-fifth to help the French with dugouts for the Second Army.”

Bats passed Mole the deck. “So we’re to finish two galleries and chambers while Banning’s crew just has one to dig?”

“Major-General Harington ordered that we abandon the Wytschaete Wood chamber, so we’re down to one.”

Mole slammed a hand on the table, causing Charlie to jump back. “What? Why?”

“There’s not enough time to finish both,” Bagger explained. “He wants us to focus on finishing the gallery and chamber at Maedelstede Farm. It’s a race to the finish line, chaps, and we’re currently losing.”

“Not exactly a fair race when our gallery has to be almost one hundred and ten yards longer than Banning’s,” Mole grumbled, “especially if they’re sending us children to help.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bagger said. “Harington commanded that all twenty-four chambers be completed and ready by June, so we’re accepting any extra hands he sends our way.” He tossed a fleeting glance at Thomas. “Even if they are small.”

Thomas tucked his hands in his trouser pockets.

“What happens in June?” George asked, retrieving his two shillings and snatching an extra while the men weren’t looking.

“Nothing you need to know about now,” Bagger said. “You just concern yourselves with packing bags with clay, hauling the spoil up top, and keeping your mouths shut.”

“What are we digging all these tunnels and chambers for anyway?” Frederick asked. “Coal?”

The men laughed.

“Coal?” Mole said. “Under no-man’s-land? No. We’re the Allies’ first line of defense and offense.”

“It was my understanding the infantry was the army’s first line of defense and offense in the war,” Frederick said.

Bagger shook his head. “Eton, we could fill a million graves with what boarding-school soldiers think they know about this war.”

Mole sat back and smiled.

“But for now,” Bagger added, “all you need to know is that down here, you follow my orders and obey my rules.” He ticked them off on his beefy fingers. “No talking in the lower galleries. Between shifts, sleep is not optional. Tired tunnelers make mistakes, and down here, mistakes cost lives. In the dugout, no cheating at cards or stealing.” He gave George a hard look and held out his hand. A blush tinted George’s freckled cheeks as he fished the extra shilling from his pocket and dropped it into Bagger’s open palm. The crew leader tossed the coin onto the pile on the table. “And lastly, you can go in the reserve and support trenches, but stay away from the front-line trenches. There’s a reason we had spots to fill on our crew, and it’s not because the lads before you were promoted.”