ding letters from home or writing in reply, sat or
lay on their cots, iron beds with steel springs, furnished with
mattress, pillow and plenty of blankets. On the shelf between the
windows and on the row of hooks below, were arranged each man's
belongings. Electric lights cast some glow from the beams above, but
reading or writing demanded the aid of a candle at one's side. Save when
the rain, falling heavily, dripped through the roof, so that certain
unlucky men had to stretch their shelter-halves as awnings over their
cots, the quarters were comfortable enough, so comfortable that at a
later date, in some muddy gun-pit, we looked back with longing upon the
winter months at Coetquidan.

While the cannoneers had been firing at the range, the drivers had been
busy with horse exercise and grooming. Four guns had been left in
permanent position at the range. Now the time had come when we were to
practice on other ranges, and our guns to be taken thither by our own
drivers and horses each time. The first of these occasions is historic,
for it was the day of Sergeant's Newell's famous report.

Rain had caused postponement on the first day set, Monday, January 7.
Two days later snow made the attempt abortive, blowing in the windows
all night and lying on the ground several inches deep when we arose, at
4 a. m. At 6 the battalion was harnessed and hitched, ready to start.
The ground was so slippery and the winter morning was still so dark that
the drivers did not mount, but led their horses. Things went difficultly
but regularly until the Third Section piece was leaving the gun park.
There was a slight downhill slope; the brakes refused to work; the
horses, new to artillery harness, became tangled up, and ended by
running away, disappearing from the column into the darkness. Sergeant
Newell was having some concern over starting the caisson. When he caught
up with the column on the road, he learned his piece was missing. At the
call, "Chiefs of sections, report," he approached the captain, saluted
and said:

"Sir, I understand my piece has run away."

"Understand?" exclaimed the battery commander. "My God, man! Don't you
know?"

The piece had not gone far. The horses had entangled the harness with
the pole of a wagon at the end of the gun park, and halted. No damage
was done, and a fresh start was made. Out on the road another runaway
started, but came to a quick end when a horse fell. To the perseverance
of Lieutenant Ap