We have slid into the New Year almost without knowing it. We did, however, have a small celebration New Year’s Eve; but as there was no ringing of bells or tooting of horns at midnight, we had nothing to remind us just what this party was all about. The night before last the French troops in town put on a show. Stage, scenery, and orchestra were very much there, even a spotlight. The acts were mostly singing ones; sad songs, glad songs, and every old kind of a song were dished up. There were also a couple of monologues thrown in for good luck. They talked so fast that I wasn’t able to get what they were all about, but from the laughs and cheers they must have been not only good but spicy. To wind things up, there was a one-act play. There were two women parts, both taken by French soldiers. They were right there with the looks and form divine. I was able to follow the play and as they say at home, it was rather broad. [Illustration: AH TAKE A CHANCE _DIC DONC_! J’AI SI FROID MONSIEUR! SENTINELS GENERAL ORDER N^O 7 TO TALK TO NO ONE EXCEPT IN LINE OF DUTY. KH DAY 17] Today was qualification card day. An officer sits at a table with a card, that has more questions on it than a questionnaire and shoots question after question at you. You are asked everything, from who your favorite actress is to how old is Ann. One question was, “What branch of the service would you choose, if you had to do it all over again?” Guess everyone answered that question the same: “Anything but this.” After all was said and done, it was still a question of when we would get home. [Illustration: THERE’S ONE PIPPIN OF A GIRL! WONDER WHAT LINE OF GOODS THIS JOINT CARRIES? MANY A SALE HAS BEEN MADE THIS WAY IN FRANCE] Went over to Charleville the other day. Same old reason—to get a bath. The bath house was closed, however, there being no water. Going over you came pretty close to collecting on my insurance. We got a ride on a truck, the driver of which would be a wonder as a tank jockey. After missing a few pedestrians, he ended up by trying to do a Brodie off a bridge. Some German prisoners were ahead of us on the bridge, pushing a field range along. There was a space left about big enough for a baby carriage to squeeze by, and “dauntless Harry,” seeing an opening, tried to see if his truck would fit said opening. It didn’t, and the first thing we knew the camion had crashed through the railing and the front wheels were dangling in space. The drop wasn’t a great distance, but if we had taken the fall no doubt we would have been found with the camion resting on the back of our necks. KIRKLAND [Illustration: HIS COMING-OUT PARTY] _January 20_ DEAR MOTHER: This week has been full of ’most everything from M. P’s. to Colonels.