We are out of the line tonight with the exception of Reilley’s 3rd Battalion, which is to lie out there in their shelter pits under our barrage and whatever the Germans may send back in reply until the 2nd Division goes through them tomorrow. Twelve months ago we had scarcely left our native shores, a wonderful year in the lives of all of us, and the last one for many a poor fellow now sleeping in the soil of France. A lot of the officers are crowded together in Kinney’s quarters at the Esperance Farm. The room is hot and close, as shelter-halves and blankets screen every nook through which light might pass to give information of human habitation to a passing bomber. Everybody feels tired, dirty and discouraged. I said to them, “You are the glummest bunch of Irish that I ever saw on a Hallowe’en. Johnnie Fechheimer, you are the best Harp in this bunch; start them singing. Frank Smith, warm us up with some coffee, since there’s nothing better to be had.” So Pete Savarese soon had the coffee boiling and the two Ganymedes, Bob Dillon and Charlie Lowe, ministered to our needs. Pretty soon they were all singing—Major Anderson, Kinney, Mangan, Fechheimer, McDermott, Flynn, McCarthy, O’Donohue, Joe McNamara, Smith, John Schwinn, even Flannery, Scanlon, and myself. Joe McNamara, who is as good a youth as they make them, and who has done great service during the past three weeks with his signal men, sang a song that was just on the verge of being naughty, with his handsome blue eyes twinkling provokingly at me. Dan Flynn knows all the old songs that our mothers used to sing, “Ben Bolt,” “You’ll Remember Me,” and all that sort of thing. Fechheimer and McNamara supplied the modern element in the concert. But no matter what it was, everybody joined in, including the men in the loft upstairs and in the shelter tents outside, especially when it came to songs in praise of Good Little Old New York; and truck drivers and ambulance men and passing officers along the road got first-hand information that the New York Irish 69th had come through their three long weeks of fighting and hardship with their tails still erect. [Illustration: THE BATTLE OF THE ARGONNE] We had no doubt of the success of the 2nd Division. Artillery was lined up hub to hub on all the roads around Exermont, Fleville and Sommerance and the machine guns of both divisions were to give them a sustained preparatory barrage. I may add incidentally that the thorough preparations for their attack were the best justification for our failure to reach the last objective. We heard the artillery hammering away through the early morning and it was soon evident that the sturdy infantry and marines of the 2nd Division had carried the battle line well towards the north.