rn warfare from the infantryman's
viewpoint. I know that there is no glamour in it for them;
that it has long since become a deadly monotony, an endless
repetition of the same kinds of horror and suffering, a
boredom more terrible than death itself, which is repeating
itself in the same ways, day after day and month after
month. It isn't often that an aviator has the chance I've
had. It would be a good thing if they were to send us into
the trenches for twenty-four hours, every few months. It
would make us keener fighters, more eager to do our utmost
to bring the war to an end for the sake of those _poilus_.

The dressing-station was in a very deep dugout, lighted by
candles. At a table in the center of the room the medical
officer was working over a man with a terribly crushed leg.
Several others were sitting or lying along the wall,
awaiting their turn. They watched every movement he made in
an apprehensive, animal way, and so did I. They put me on
the table next, although it was not my turn. I protested,
but the doctor paid no attention. "Aviateur americain,"
again. It's a pity that Frenchmen can't treat us Americans
as though we belong here.

As soon as the doctor had finished with me, my stretcher was
fastened to a two-wheeled carrier and we started down a
cobbled road to the ambulance station. I was light-headed
and don't remember much of that part of the journey. Had to
take refuge in another dugout when the Huns dropped a shell
on an ammunition-dump in a village through which we were to
pass. There was a deafening banging and booming for a long
time, and when we did go through the town it was on the run.
The whole place was in flames and small-arms ammunition
still exploding. I remember seeing a long column of soldiers
going at the double in the opposite direction, and they were
in full marching order.

Well, this is the end of the tale; all of it, at any rate,
in which you would be interested. It was one o'clock in the
morning before I got between cool, clean sheets, and I was
wounded about a quarter past eight. I have been tired ever
since.

There is another aviator here, a Frenchman, who broke his
jaw and both legs in a fall while returning from a night
bombardment. His bed is across the aisle from mine; h