and led the battalion back, all singing, "Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag." At the Abeele airdrome the cemetery was located where Colonel Liebman had been buried, and here I made a list of the 71st men killed in Companies D, F and G, obtaining emergency addresses and all possible details as to their deaths, which information I sent to Mrs. Maslin, who wrote to each man's relatives giving them the information.

While here we learned that Lieutenant Conway, acting Second Battalion-Adjutant, had died of wounds received a few days before. A piece of shrapnel struck Lieutenant Conway in the back as he was leaning over the Sergeant-Major's shoulder looking at some reports. It was fate again, for Lieutenant Conway had arisen to go about some other duty and if he had not been there at that moment the shell would have killed the Sergeant-Major instead of him.

After three days' rest we left the airdrome and rumor had it that we were leaving Flanders and "the mud of Ypres." For once rumor was true, and we found ourselves at Doullens, where the whole regiment was billeted. Three months before, on our first halt there, the inhabitants were few and the troops were many. Now we found business resumed, very few troops, and the people moving their furniture back to their homes. It was like coming back from Hades to Heaven. There were several good hotels, plenty to eat and drink and the men had received a month's pay two days prior to the last tour of trench duty. A large number of British officers came for a few days' rest here and occasionally we would have guests. After we had been at Doullens for about ten days I remarked to one of them that we were having a good time and that I wondered when our next move would come. He said, "You are being fattened up for the next killing, you know. We always know that something is coming when we are sent to rest in a big town for a few weeks. In about another ten days you will be up again.'

And he was right, for within ten days we were at the front again and the "big killing" was very close. Our stay at Doullens was taken up with drills, a tank demonstration and a division maneuver. The Brigade Commander had ordered that gas masks and steel helmets should be worn at all drills and maneuvers. It was a good order, as it gave the men an oppor

tunity to accustom themselves to their "tin Lizzies" and gas masks, but the men did not like either of these articles, especially when they were not within even hearing distance of the big guns. A tank demonstration one morning entailed a twelve-mile hike for the round trip. Remembering the advice of General Pershing to use common sense with the men, and the day being quite warm, I paraded the battalion in overseas caps and without gas masks. It was the first time we had seen tanks. Each battalion had a different day for the demonstration, so I did not expect any of the "wax works" to be present, but after the show commenced, to my horror, the Brigade Commander appeared, and a little later a German airplane was heard, probably scouting. Our steel hats were six miles away! If the Brigade Commander had only left his there, too! Suppose Jerry began to drop bombs! After the demonstration the Brigade Commander inquired, "Where are your steel helmets and gas masks?" I replied that I did not think it was necessary to wear them. He said, "Don't you know that an order was issued to wear them at all drills and maneuvers?" I acknowledged that I did, but said that I did not consider this either a drill or a manœuvre; that the steel hats were in a filthy condition and that I had given orders that they should be cleaned and oiled by Retreat that evening; that responsibility was wholly mine. The steel hats were cleaned by the next assembly, with the exception of those of Lieutenants Merz, Giblyn, Callahan and O'Connor, who had forgotten to tell their strikers to clean them. Captain Bulkley noticing the shining helmets next day asked what gallery I was playing to. Perhaps the Brigade Commander saw them, too, for he made no report of the occurrence.

One evening Lieutenant Merz invited a Canadian officer, some other officers and myself to dinner, and during the course of the evening an officer criticized the English soldiers. The Canadian officer's reply was, "I am a Canadian and have been here since 1916. I want you to know that never has an Australian or Canadian soldier gone over the top first when English soldiers were present. The English soldier is an unassuming fellow, modest in victory and uncomplaining in defeat; and don't you forget that there are 450,000 of them buried in France.”

While here we had a divisional maneuver that covered two

days. My battalion was the advance guard the first day and the rear guard the second day. One of the long halts was close to a rest camp of British air officers and with their traditional hospitality they entertained our battalion officers in their quarters. One of the British officers asked me when I was going on leave, and when I stated that there was no chance at present, but I hoped to get one, as I had a number of relatives in England and Ireland, he smiled broadly and laughingly informed me that I was the first American who had answered in that way. The others had said, "Oh, Hell! We don't want any leave; we want to finish this war and get back to the United States."

Our "fattening period" drew to a close, and soon it was the popping of guns instead of corks at champagne dinners. My battalion was ordered to entrain at 7:30 A. M. September 23rd and to proceed to some point beyond Peronne. The other battalions were to leave Doullens earlier on the same morning. On the evening of September 20th the officers of the battalion were the guests of Lieutenant Merz at a dinner in his billet prepared and served by his French landlady and her daughter, and on September 22nd the battalion officers were my own guests at a dinner held in the British Officers' Mess. We were agreeably surprised to learn that the British had solved the making of a Manhattan cocktail. It was a glorious war between September 7th and 22nd for the 105th!

We entrained on the morning of September 23, accompanied by a battalion of 106th Infantry, commanded by Captain Blaisdell, and I, being senior captain, was in command of the train. It was a memorable journey, filling us with awe. It was about 35 miles to Peronne, and after we passed Amiens it was through villages with not one house standing. The journey was a very slow one and we saw at close range the awful havoc of the four years of war. We passed Albert, where I had been on duty with the 7th London Regiment three months before, but now the Germans had been driven back for miles. As we reached Peronne we passed rest areas of Australian troops, a number of whom were on a small lake fishing in a unique way. One man would throw a hand grenade into the water and the others would quickly leave the spot. When the grenade would explode they would return and pick up any fish floating on the water. We passed

over the Peronne Bridge, which resembles the Harlem River Bridge, and detrained at Tincourt at 9:00 P. M. It had been a very tiresome trip for the men, with forty in cars not large enough to properly accommodate more than fifteen. We had taken more than thirteen hours to travel about 35 miles. We were met by a member of the Red Cross, who reported they had hot chocolate for the men and requested that they have their mess cups ready as they passed the kitchen so that they might be filled to the top. It was a Godsend and put new life into the men, who have never forgotten the Red Cross chocolate at Tincourt, close to the Hindenburg line.

The next morning, September 24th, orders were received from Regimental Headquarters to be prepared to go into the trenches to take over from the British at a moment's notice. At about 2 o'clock in the afternoon the three Battalions Commanders with their Adjutants rode almost up to the support trenches. It was a ride long to be remembered, both from its serious and comic sides. We started at a trot and in a few moments were in the shell-swept area; then the horses became unmanageable. They first cantered and then galloped. I would perhaps be leading the column when a shell would explode in front and my horse would turn around and gallop back; then perhaps Captain Bulkley would lead and a shell would explode in front of him and his horse would turn-tail and bring up in the rear. Each one of the six officers had a turn at leading the column and then trailing at the rear, through no choice of his own. It was impossible not to laugh at the mix-ups caused by these very frightened animals. We passed an ambulance that had been shattered by a shell.

I

My battalion was to relieve the 8th London Regiment. directed my Adjutant to notify the company commanders as to the details for the take-over and Captain Bulkley and I mounted and rode together back to our battalions. But this ride was different. The horses were going back to their corral, the shells were still dropping, but the horses' efforts were all in one direction.

The battalion was met by British guides that evening, and each company was reported in position by 9:00 P. M. On the morning of the 25th runners reported casualties by shell-fire,

and inspection showed the companies to be in support trenches not under observation by the enemy, but in a shell-swept area. Company D having gone "over the top" at Vierstraat Ridge was placed in reserve trenches, and it had no casualties between Sept. 24th and 28th. Companies A, B and C suffered equally from the shell-fire, but Company B, under Lieutenant O'Connor, of the 71st, was under heaviest fire.

An attack on Guillemont Farm by parts of the 105th and 106th Infantry was arranged for Sept. 27th. A trip along the trenches that afternoon found the men keeping well down on account of shell splinters. Shortly after returning to battalion headquarters, Regimental Headquarters telephoned for a company to be sent forward to Major Gillett who was meeting strong opposition at Guillemont Farm. The order was, "Get this done quickly and notify me the moment your company leaves its trenches." I figured that it would be a welcome. change to Company B to get a chance to fight back instead of suffering casualties in a shell swept sector, and Lieutenant O'Connor was ordered by telephone to prepare his company as quickly as possible to report to Major Gillett. In 12 minutes Lieutenant O'Connor telephoned, "Company B is moving forward." This fact was reported to the commanding officer, who exclaimed, "Fine! Fine piece of work!" To Lieutenant O'Connor belonged the credit; packs had been rolled, supplies gathered and the men moved forward in 12 minutes. On Sept. 24 Company B, with a strength of two officers and 138 men, took over from the British. On the night of Sept. 29th there were only 12 men left-2 officers and 126 men were casualties in five days. Two of the remaining twelve men received the D. S. C. They were both old 71st men-Sergeants Kirk and Boykin.

Company B was attached to a 106th Battalion, commanded by Major Gillett, until noon of September 28th and its only casualties occurred as it left to go forward to Guillemont Farm. September 27th a dashing young Australian, Lieutenant Sheldon, reported to me as our Intelligence Officer. He had come over with the first Australian contingent and was to go home on a six months' leave in a very short time, such leaves being granted to all Australians of the first contingent. He was a wonderful chap, but was nearing the "Valley of Death," as on September