red rocket rose whether it
called for normal barrage, "green" barrage, or whatever other barrages
might have been given us.

The following morning, September 20, about 5 a. m., the call came over
the telephone for normal barrage, no rocket having been seen. No sooner
was that fired than orders were given for green barrage. Later we
learned that the enemy raiding party had gone around the first barrage
but were caught by the second and none escaped back to his lines.

Two days later, September 22, we crawled out of our tents at 3 a. m. to
carry 100 rounds per gun from the piles along the road back of the
position. From 4 to 5:45 the battery fired a slow bombardment and then a
barrage till 6:30, to accompany our infantry's highly successful raid of
Marinbois Farm, strongly held by the enemy. About noon a few rounds were
fired on an enemy working party.

At 3:30 a. m., September 23, at the cry, "Normal barrage," from Kulicek,
then on watch at the rocket post, the guard in each gun pit woke the men
sleeping in their pup-tents in the bushes behind. Hastily pulling on our
shoes, we dashed out into a drizzling rain, and fired about 100 rounds
per gun in the next two hours. A raiding party of American troops and
one of the enemy had accidentally stumbled on each other in the
darkness. The following night there was heavy firing on both sides, and
the battery was aroused twice, but fired little either time. Both sides,
it seemed, were uneasy in anticipation of the great drive that began
September 26.

Though the actual drive on this date was northward, by troops west of
Verdun, the preliminary cannonading stretched along the line facing
eastward, south of Verdun, as well, thus concealing from the enemy the
actual line of attack until it was too late for him to concentrate his
forces. Battery E, firing from 11:30 p. m. till 6:30 a. m., the morning
of September 26, expended about 1,500 rounds in this ruse, our infantry
having been withdrawn from the front lines, in anticipation of heavy
counterbombardment.

Perhaps the worst task on this night was that of the drivers on the
caissons which carried the shells from the railroad track to the
position. The haul was short, but the mud was deep and heavy. They made
trip after trip, using every possible means of urging the horses to
their task. But when the last load had been carried, about 3 a. m., the
horses were so exhausted that they could not pull the empty caissons
through the