HEARS AMERICAN VOICE

You have a ticket that calls for first-class military compartment, but
you climbed into the first open door you saw, and didn't know and
didn't care whether it was first, second, third, or tenth class just so
you got on your way. Your eyes soon became accustomed to the darkness
and you discerned two or three forms in the seat opposite you. You
wondered if they were French, Italians, Belgians, English, Australians,
Canadians, Moroccans, Algerians, or Americans. It was too dark to see,
but suddenly you heard a familiar voice saying, "Gosh, I wish I was
back in little ole New York," and you made a grab in the darkness for
that lad's hand.

All during your trip no trainman appears. You are left to your own
sweet will at nights in the war zone when you are on a train. No
stations are announced. You are supposed to have sense enough to know
where you are going, and to have gumption enough to get off without
either being assisted or told to do so. The assumption, I suppose, is
that anybody who travels in the war zone knows where he is going.
Personally, I felt like the American phrase, "I don't know where I'm
going but I'm on the way," and I tried to jump off at two or three
towns before I got to my own destination, but the American soldiers had
been that way before on their way to the trenches, and wouldn't let me
off at the wrong place. I thought surely that somebody would come
along to take my ticket, but nobody appeared. I soon found that night
trains "on the line" pay little attention to such minor matters as
tickets, and I have a pocketful that have never been taken up. Time
after time I have piled into a train at night, after buying a ticket to
my destination; have journeyed to my destination, have gone through the
depot and to my hotel without ever seeing a trainman to take the
ticket. I was let severely alone. And even if a conductor had come
along through the train it would have been too dark for him to have
seen me, and I am sure I could have dodged him had I so desired. Maybe
that's the reason they don't take the tickets up. Anyhow, I have given
you a picture of a great train in the war zone, winding its way toward
the front, in complete darkness.

FLASH-LIGHTS

Flash-lights have come into their own in this war. One would as soon
think of living without a flash-light as he would think of travelling
without clothes in Greenland. It simply cannot be done. In any city,
fr