Back at headquarters one day an amusing incident occurred. I had bought a beautiful French pipe sometime before which I valued greatly. It happened, however, that I had gone out one afternoon and left it lying on my bed, which consisted of a straw mattress on the floor. While I was gone a couple of French poilus had come in to chat with the other boys. One of the poilus had been imbibing a bit and was feeling pretty good, I guess. He sat down on my bed and two of our boys did the same, thinking to talk and have a little fun with him. While the Frenchman was sitting there his eye fell upon that pretty pipe of mine and he picked it up admiringly, hinting to the boys that he would like to have it. They told him it was not theirs but they felt sure that the owner would not care if he took it. So he put it in his pocket with a wink and laid his cheap, smelly one in its place. He then noticed a little yellow cap on the bed. It was a sort of skullcap affair which the boys all wore when sleeping to keep their heads warm. When Mr. Poilu saw it he expressed a desire to have it also. The boys told him the cap belonged to me but they knew I would willingly let him have it. He took the cap and presently went out. Imagine my chagrin on returning at being told that one of the poilus had taken my treasured pipe and my nightcap! I did not care so much for the cap but I was very sorry to lose the pipe. I knew that the boys would not be able to identify this one man among all those hundreds who wore long blue coats and red trousers. But fortune was kind. Early the next morning when we were going to breakfast, we passed a large crowd of poilus, and one of our boys began to laugh. He called out, "Benson, there goes your nightcap!" And sure enough, on the head of a poilu, sticking down below his military cap, was the yellow edge of my nightcap. That identified my man, and I rushed gleefully over and smilingly said in my execrable French, "Monsieur, I believe I have your pipe," holding it up to his gaze. He took it, saying, "Yes; thank you." But he did not offer me my pipe, and there was an embarrassing pause. After a moment I said, "Perhaps, Monsieur, you have my pipe?" He smiled again and said, "Yes," and fished it out of his pocket. We both laughed, and I felt so good that I did not ask him for the cap. He's welcome to it. But as for the pipe, I now prize it more highly than before. CHAPTER XVII BARRAGE, OR CURTAIN FIRE At this juncture let me run over the development of barrage fire as military critics look upon and explain it. Petain, the great French general, has given expression to one of the outstanding facts of the present war. He says, "The artillery conquers, the infantry occupies." This, in a few words, is the explanation of that new method of attack by "barrage" or, as the English call it, "curtain fire."