ne was formed while the band struck up a mournful
dirge, and they marched to the cemetery as escort of their lost and
well loved officer.

The survivors of the company to which Paul belonged were now drafted
into the regular army in the section known as "Bataillon Des
Tirailleurs." Paul did not relish the change from the free and easy life
of the Franc-tireurs to the strict discipline of the regular army. The
company to which he was joined had two "Gatling guns" or
"Mitrailleuses" as the French called them. It was drill, drill all day
long and as the pay was now only six cents a day and payments only
once a week, they had but little chance to play their favorite game of
"Petit paquet," a game that had been more regular than prayers in the
camp of the "Franc-tireurs." Having become thoroughly drilled in the use
of the "Gatling gun" the company was ordered to the front. One
evening a comrade said to Paul: "We will have bloody work to-morrow.
General Menteuffel's army is advancing and all the out posts have
been driven in." But the expected battle was never fought. That night
news came that caused a heavy gloom to settle on the camp. No longer
the laughing joke passed from comrade to comrade. No longer the
patriotic songs were heard through the camp. Bronzed heads were bowed
in sorrow and tears trickled down many a cheek. Paul anxious to know the
cause of the general depression, asked an officer what was the
matter and received the answer: "Paris has fallen." Soon after came the
news of the armistice and that no more fighting should take place for
thirty days. Notwithstanding the armistice and the conditions that
neither army should move, the "Mitrailleuses" were advanced to a
favorable point nearer the enemy and the heavy and constant drill
resumed.

All expected that hostilities would continue at the close of the
armistice. The two armies lay within plain sight of each other.
Discipline was strictly enforced; several French soldiers were executed
for neglect and disobedience of orders. One cold night Paul stood two
hours guard over a Gatling gun that was placed in a shed with no sides
and the fierce, cold wind whistled and penetrated his very bones. He was
worn out with a heavy day's drill and concluded that he could watch the
gun as well above in the shelter as by standing alongside. He mounted
the beam and stretched himself out on a board. He knew, that it was
instant deat