When the war came, however, Jeff was quite rested and perfectly game. He went to France with one of the first divisions, and is now in the artillery, which is showing the Huns something new and interesting, and is thereby earning the admiration of France and England. As a matter of fact, when I met him he was acting as instructor in one of our big artillery camps. But he ached to get to the front, and by this time he must be there. “Why were you willing to fight for America when you were not ready to go on fighting for Russia?” I asked him. “In Russia the soldiers never get a square deal. In the American army they do,” was the reply. “But that is not the only reason. There’s something about America that makes you willing to do anything that is necessary. I guess it’s because everybody feels free.” “But our army was drafted,” I suggested. “Some people think that was an offense against individual freedom.” “Drafted, yes,” said this real American, “but drafted to defend their individual freedom. Can’t they see that?” Jeff would be perfectly happy fighting for freedom if he only knew what fate had befallen his father and mother since the Russian upheaval. He has had no word from them since then, and he fears they have fallen victims to the bloody-handed Bolsheviki. His fine gray eyes filled with tears when he spoke of his mother, whom he left when he was little more than a boy. The chances are that he will never see her again. We have thousands of Italian youths in our army. I talked with a handsome Italian sergeant, a well educated young man who had been a teller in an Italian bank in New York. “You know what would make me the happiest man in the world?” he asked me. “It would be to be transferred to the Italian front with my whole company. I am a great admirer of the French and English, but of course I love Italy, and it would be great if we could go there, and in American uniforms, under the American flag, help to win back our Italia Irredenta, our Alsace-Lorraine. “There are only four men in my company who were not born in Italy. Some of them were born in the lost provinces, and were naturalized as Austrians. But they hate Austria even more than they hate Germany. Think what it would mean to Italy to see her sons, who left her because they were poor, come back with the American army to fight for freedom on her soil.” I sincerely hope that these soldiers will be given a chance to fight in the land of their birth, under the flag that means freedom wherever it waves. Nothing would put more enthusiasm into the Italian army, in my opinion. Rightly or wrongly, the Italians, or some of them, have felt that the allies have neglected them a bit. Of course, German propaganda has worked overtime to make them feel that way, but there was, at one time, a slight basis for the feeling. I want to see American troops in Italy.