such emergency. With little
difficulty five tons of army rations were secured, and, accompanied by
good Major Hirch, I set out.

Our journey took us through miles of devastated country. Tons upon tons
of war material, abandoned by the retiring German troops, littered roads
and fields. Clothing, helmets, small arms of all description, whole
batteries of Howitzers still in position, dense black fumes from burning
ammunition dumps, acres of barbed wire fields and hillsides shell-torn,
bodies still unburied--all this was the spectacle of war havoc greeting
the eye on every side.

In the chill of that bleak November evening we crossed the German
frontier and entered Gorz. Aged and feeble men and women looked sadly at
us from their doors. Children, whose pinched faces clearly showed the
ravages of hunger, timidly followed our supply trucks up the deserted
street.

[Illustration: "GREATER LOVE THAN THIS NO MAN HAS."]

We were the first American soldiers they had ever seen. Drawing up in
front of the old market place, Major Hirch explained our mission,
speaking to the people in German.

When the poor starved creatures realized we were bringing them food,
their joy knew no bounds; the children shouted with very joy and swarmed
up into the trucks. We found ourselves crying, but supremely happy in
the realization that we were doing the Master's work.

The inhabitants fluently spoke French as well as German; and when the
children saw the Chaplain's cross and found I was a priest, their
reverence and affection was most pronounced.

The food, indeed, was but the coarse Army fare, "bully" beef, hard tack,
and condensed milk; but, withal, it was relished most keenly. We felt
gratified in the humble part we had played in saving the lives of those
unfortunate non-combatants, and organizing our first Divisional Relief
Expedition into Germany.

CHAPTER XI

DOMREMY--HOME

"Major Whittington, I have not had a furlough since we landed in
France."

"I guess that's so, Chaplain; which city would you prefer visiting,
Paris or Metz?"

"Domremy--."

"Domremy!" he exclaimed, "I never heard of the place. However, you may
go." Then, with forced seriousness, added, "I believe you are needed in
Domremy on Official Business."

It was December eleventh. We had long been anxious to visit the
birthplace of Joan of Arc. The story of her heroic brilliant life had
ever interested and inspired us; and now, to actually be in the hil