The two weeks that elapsed between October 16th and November 1st were the dreariest, draggiest days we spent in the war. The men lay out on the bare hillsides in little pits they had dug for themselves, the bottoms of which were turned into mud by frequent rains. They had one blanket apiece, and were without overcoats, underwear or socks, in the unpleasant climate of a French Autumn. They were dirty, lousy, thirsty, often hungry; and nearly every last man was sick. Captain Bootz, an old-time regular army man and therefore not sympathetic with imaginary ills, made the following report on Anderson’s battalion as early as October 17th. “Checked up strength of battalion shows 405 men for active combat, including liaison detail. Of this number about 35% are suffering various illnesses, especially rheumatism, colds and fevers. The Company commanders state that these men are not receiving medical treatment, which should be given to them without fail or conditions will be worse in the next day or so. Some men are doubled up and should really be in the hospital. I cannot allow these men to leave, as it would set a precedent for many others to follow, and this would deplete our fighting strength so much more. First aid men attached to companies have no medical supplies other than bandages. A lack of proper clothing, such as overcoats, heavy underwear and socks, brings on a great many of these maladies. The majority of the men have summer underwear, if any, and no overcoat and only one blanket; and this is entirely inadequate to keep a soldier in fit physical condition for field service in the climate that is found this time of year in France. I deem it my duty that this be brought to the attention of higher authorities so that they may be rightly informed as to the actual conditions we are living in, and that means be found to have the defect remedied immediately.” As the days went on, conditions got no better. Hundreds and hundreds of men had to be evacuated as too weak to be of any military value; and nothing but the need of man-power kept our doctors from sending half the regiment to the hospital. The only relief from monotony was an occasional night patrol, or the prospects which were held out to us of a fresh order to attack. In spite of the bloody nose we had already received, our men wished for the order to try again. Patrols and observation posts reported a lessening of the enemy’s strength, and our fellows felt certain that if the tanks would do their share they could get through. They had met their first repulse. If they had been in the war as long as the British or French, they would have learned to take it philosophically as part of the give and take of the game. But it was their first one, and they were burning with the desire to get back at the enemy.