To the average Frenchman who had always been accustomed to a sound scheme of preparedness and trained men who could go to the colors for immediate service, we were taken to be simply the first contingent of an enormous army which would follow without interruption. The poor people were bitterly disappointed when they found that the handful of untrained men alluded to by our papers in this country as "the splendid little regular army" represented all that we had available in the United States, and that ten months would pass before a really appreciable number of troops would arrive. From Bordeaux we went by train to Paris. In the train the same interest in and excitement over us continued. The compartment was full of French soldiers, who asked us all about our plans, the number of our troops and when they would arrive. Outside it was a beautiful day, and the green, well-cultivated fields and picturesque, quiet villages made it hard to realize we were really in France, where the greatest war in history was being fought. On reaching Paris we reported to General Pershing. He asked us what duty we wished. We both replied, service with troops. He assigned my brother at once to the Sixteenth Infantry, and ordered me to go with the advance billeting detail to the Gondecourt area, where our troops were to train. Meanwhile the convoyed ships containing the troops had arrived at St. Nazaire. On the way over officers and men had tried to do what they could to prepare themselves. One of the officers told me he spent his time learning the rules of land warfare for civilized nations as agreed on by the Hague tribunal. Like the dodo, the mammoth, and international law, these rules had long since become extinct. From St. Nazaire a battalion of the Sixteenth Infantry went to Paris and paraded on the Fourth of July. The population went crazy over them. Cheering crowds lined the streets, flowers were thrown at them, and I think the men felt that France and war were not so bad after all. As a side light on our efficiency in this parade the troops were marched in column of squads because the men were so green that the officers were afraid to adopt any formation where it was necessary to keep a longer line properly dressed. Meanwhile three officers and I had left Paris and gone to Gondecourt. The officers were General (then Colonel) McAlexander, who since made a splendid record for himself when the Third Division turned the German offensive of July 15, 1918, east of Château Thierry; General (then Major) Leslie McNair, afterward head of the artillery department of the training section; and Colonel Porter, of the medical corps. We knew nothing about billeting. The sum total of my knowledge was a hazy idea that it meant putting the men in spare beds in a town and that it was prohibited by the Constitution of the United States.