el ferry and in this royal craft, under escort
of destroyers, aeroplanes, and dirigibles, we crossed to Calais in an
hour and thirty-five minutes. The crossing was enlivened when two
riflemen of the crew took to firing at mines that endangered our
passage.

Picardy and Flanders--April 20th to June 10th

[Illustration: (C) _Underwood & Underwood_
_"Let's Go!" Washington's Birthday, 1918_]

Once in Calais we found that we divided honors with Company C of our
regiment in being the first two National Army companies to land in
France, having debarked on French soil April 20, 1918.

That night we experienced our first real touch of war. Sheltered in
tents in British Rest Camp No. 6, we received a call of welcome from a
squadron of Jerry aeroplanes. A truly thrilling reception it was, with
the thunder of Hun bombs alternating with the "ping!" of British
anti-aircraft guns,--and thru it all the "pat-pat" of a multitude of
machine guns. But best of all, there were no casualties.

Next day we spent in adding to our equipment gas masks and trench
helmets and we exchanged our American Enfield rifles for British
Enfields,--lighter, shorter pieces having a magazine capacity of ten
rounds of ammunition.

April 23d introduced us to the famous little "_40 hommes--8 chevaux_"
box-cars of the French. A three-hour journey in these brought us to the
British base at Audruicq. Our first real hike started from here and
ended at Zouafques, a little village in Picardy. We occupied some of the
best sheep-pens, cattle stalls, and hen roosts in town and during our
five-week stay we became really comfortable inhabitants.

Zouafques proved to be a sort of military high school, where we polished
our elementary knowledge of tactics. Our "noncoms" were sent to
specialized schools in scouting, sniping, musketry, automatic rifles,
grenades, and infantry tactics. The instruction, as well as the food and
equipment, was distinctly British.

Five weeks of this work and we took our next step trench-ward. Hiking
from Zouafques at 1.30 A.M., May 13th, we entrained _a la chevaux_ at
Audruicq. A day's journey _via_ Calais, Boulogne, Etaps, and Doullens
brought us to Mondrecourt, in Flanders. Then an almost heartbreaking
hike thru Pas to the war-worn village of Couin.

Our assimilation by the British forces became most complete when we
found ourselves brigaded with a battalion of the Lancashire Fusileers of
the 125th British Brigade. Our position