hat they helped form a cog in
the mighty machine which straightened the St. Mihiel salient, and marked
the first American triumph over the Hun.

FROM FIVE TRENCHES TO SENARD

While at Five Trenches, we were in constant readiness to move, and on
Sept. 18th, orders were received to embuss at three o'clock P. M. Where
we were going we did not know, but we prepared for a ride, which, we
were told would be a long one. A short march brought us to a large
number of French trucks which we boarded, filling each to its utmost
capacity.

The trip was through a country of rolling hills, dotted with the
picturesque French villages with their stone houses and red tile roofs.
Late in the afternoon the Moselle was crossed and we passed through the
outskirts of the ancient city of Toul. Our journey continued throughout
the night and after passing through Bar-le-Duc, and Triacourt, we
arrived at our destination, the small village of Senard, about six
o'clock the following morning. The truck containing our kitchen had been
sent on ahead to prepare breakfast for us when we got there, but with
the usual fortune of the kitchen buss, it had been mis-instructed and so
it was afternoon before it arrived to fill the stomachs of the very
hungry soldiers.

Our billet was a large barn, over a hundred years old, in which the
whole company was housed. Its bunks with straw mattresses were a welcome
change after sleeping on the ground in the forest. It had at one time
been quarters for German soldiers, for in 1914 when the army of the
Kaiser poured into France, Senard had been occupied for about nine days.
Although the city shows plainly the scars of battle, it was fortunate
compared to some of the neighboring villages, many of which were
complete ruins.

The stay here was a short one. We left on the night of Sept. 18th and
marched for several hours along roads already crowded with artillery and
supply trains moving toward the front, and shortly after dark pitched
pup tents at Camp Wagon, in the heart of the Argonne Forest. The few
days spent here passed uneventfully; even pay day failing to cause its
usual enthusiasm, for what good was money in the heart of a forest? An
occasional barrage sounding nearby kept us on the alert, for we imagined
each one to be the prelude to the big drive we knew we were soon to
engage in.

Finally, definite information came and it left us rather dazed, causing
many of us to write home letters that we thou