The next evening they called for me. In army style we marched snappily through the streets to F Co. mess hall, a long wooden building with dirt floor. I was placed in the front row with a corporal on either side to keep me in position. The mess was a real and delicious feast. Those boys had contributed extra to it, and a whole pig had been roasted, not to mention caldrons of vegetables, jelly-cake, doughnuts, and coffee--_sweetened_ coffee! I drank a quart of it at least. Then Sergeant Riggs, a humorous character and my staunch friend now, gave a speech welcoming me to Pouillenay. I can tell you it made the tears come to my eyes, these men, so chivalrous, so unreserved in their welcome of a woman into their midst; and I dedicated myself there and then to them, resolved to do everything in my power to make their stay here brighter and better. But the biggest thing that I do is not of my doing at all; it lies in simply being a woman. You really wouldn't laugh if you were over here and saw these boys hungering for love and for home. Well, of course I answered the sergeant's speech, and then there was cheering and then singing. Corporal Martin then stepped forward and said in his oratorical manner. "We have now come to the conclusion of this ceremony, which consists in your washing your mess kit." Roars of laughter! I was placed in the line and we all moved up to the garbage pail; next, to a huge tank of decidedly greasy hot water into which we plunged our mess kits; then on to a kettle of rinsing water where we gave them another dip. That being over, I was invited to a show given by one of the other companies in one of the mess halls, and as there was half an hour to spare, it was decided that we have a parade through the town. Of course it was dark by this time. So with a sergeant taking one arm and a corporal the other, we marched and marched, singing all the time, through the little black streets, up the hill and round the church and down again, over the bridge and back to the mess hall where the show awaited us. "Now you can write home that you have marched with the American army," said Sergeant Riggs. On another day I happened to be passing when F Co. was drilling. The sergeant insisted that I join the ranks. So with a rifle I blundered through the drill, my mistakes causing much merriment.