ight miles to the base
headquarters, which we reached at three in the morning drenched and
exhausted and literally covered with mud. After three hours of good
refreshing sleep we were up again and ready to serve our boys--the
invincibles.

CHAPTER IV

HOLDING THE LINE

"On to Berlin," was the cry of the whole Yank army. And the boys were
impatient of every delay that kept them from their goal. They all felt
like the colored private from Alabama who was asked to join a French
class: "No, I don' want to study French. I want to study German."

After the hisses had died down some one asked, "Why is it you want to
study German rather than French?"

"I'se goin' to Berlin."

Then the hisses gave way to cheers.

It was that same spirit which caused Corporal Cole, of the Marines, to
say: "The marines do not know such a word as 'retreat.'" That was the
spirit which brought the curt reply from Col. Whittlesey when the
Huns asked his "Lost Battalion" to surrender.

The American army was a victorious army. It had never been defeated.
It had faith in its ideals. Those ideals were neither selfish nor
arrogant. It wore no boastful "Gott mit uns" on its belt. It desired
only the opportunity of striking low that nation which dared to
dictate terms to the Almighty as well as to men. It braved three
thousand miles of submarine peril to meet such an enemy.

Even an invincible army has to breathe and eat and sleep. They can
hold their breath long enough to adjust a gas mask, but the mask tells
us that even in gas they must be enabled to breathe. In the heat of
the chase when the Hun is the hare, they can forget for a time that
they are hungry, but the field kitchen testifies to the fact that
hunger undermines courage and that an efficient army must be a
well-fed army.

To see men curled up in muddy shell-holes with the sky for canopy,
peacefully sleeping, while cannon are booming on every side and shells
whining overhead, is sufficient evidence that sleep is not a myth
invented by the Gods of Rest.

While the spirit of the boys was willing to go right through to
Berlin, their flesh asserted its weakness. Their first dash over the
top was invincible, and we were told that in ten hours they swept
forward to their goal sixty hours ahead of schedule. There they dug in
and for four days _held the line_ in the face of a murderous and
desperate German fire.

During those four awful days I saw no sign of "yellow," but everyw