warm to eat and drink to fortify them against the cold. Not
content with doing that for their charges the Red Cross people soon hope
to have enough workers to take care of mending the aviators' clothes,
for aviators have to wear lots of clothes, and, when they land in trees,
in barbed wire, on stone walls and so forth, their clothes suffer in
consequence. A doughboy, who wears one suit at a time, doesn't have a
hard job keeping it in order; but an aviator with heaven knows how many
layers of clothes--oh, my!

The young women who constitute the Red Cross working staff at this
particular base, are, for the most part, prominent in society in the
larger American cities. Voluntarily they have given up lives of luxury
to tackle the job, and a hard job it is. They live in small barracks of
their own, as do the "Tommywaacs" (Women's Army Auxiliary Corps) of the
British army; but they are "roughing it" gladly to help Uncle Sam win
his war.

----
OUR SANCTUM
----

It's an office, all right, for it has a typewriter in it. No, not the
feminine person who usually decorates offices; simply the typewriting
machine. It has a calendar too, as all well-regulated offices should
have. The only things every well-regulated office has which it lacks are
the red-and-white signs "Do It Now" and the far more cheerful wall
motto, "Out to Lunch."

It has lamps, to be sure, not electric lights, as is the custom among
offices in the States. It has maps on the walls, but they differ a great
deal from the ones which used to hang above the Boss's desk back home,
and at which we used to stare blankly while waiting for him to look up
from his papers and say, "Well, whazzamatternow?" These maps have no red
circles marking zones of distribution, no blue lines marking salesmen's
routes and delimiting their territories, no stars marking agencies'
locations. True, they have lines on them, and a few stars on them, but
they stand for far different things....

Furnishings are Simple.

The office has a few rickety chairs, and one less rickety than the
others which is reserved for the Big Works, as he is affectionately
called, on the occasion of his few but none the less disquieting visits.
It has a rickety table or two, usually only one, for firewood is scarce
in France. It has a stove, which, from its battered appearance, must
have been us