It was a winter of unprecedented severity. A freezing wind blew through the great holes in the tumble-down sheds where the men slept, covering them, night after night, with snow. They learned many soldierly things. How to make blouse and overcoat supplement the thin army blankets, for instance. How to keep shoes from freezing in the night by sleeping on them. How to dress and undress in the dark—for lamps were unknown and candles forbidden. These things the soldiers taught themselves, or were taught by circumstances during their stay in Naives-en-Blois and environs. Their work consisted of close order drill, guard duty, and the thorough and much needed policing of the ancient village street. Now, Naives was near the front—so near that the guns could clearly be heard when the wind blew in the right direction. This was cheering for the men, but as there were indications of a strengthening of the German lines at this point, with a possible view to an offensive, it was necessary to use the district for troops whose training had been completed; and, according to the new European standards, that of the 69th had not yet begun. So it was necessary for the Regiment—indeed, for the whole 42nd Division, which then had its headquarters in the nearby city of Vaucouleurs—to give place to seasoned French troops. So the men made their packs, the wagons were loaded, and the Regiment changed station from the 4th to the 5th area. After two days of hiking (very easy hiking it seemed, in the light of later experiences) the Regiment arrived, on December 13, in the historic town of Grand. Here, centuries before, the conquering Romans had encamped, one hundred thousand strong. The ruins of the mighty ampitheatre that they built still stands, and the tower of the great church was once part of a fort. It was Caesar himself who planned the broad roads on which our Regiment drilled, and Caesar’s soldiers who made them. In this venerable church Father Duffy said midnight Mass on Christmas, and all the town came to see these strange, gentle, brave, mirthful, pious American soldiers, who, coming from a new land to fight for France, practiced France’s ancient faith with such devotion. The Regimental colors were in the chancel, flanked by the tricolor. The 69th band was present, and some French soldier-violinists. A choir of French women sang hymns in their own language, the American soldiers sang a few in English, and French and American joined in the universal Latin of “Venite, Adoremus Dominum.” It was a memorable Midnight Mass—likely to be remembered longer even than that which Father Duffy had said on the Mexican Border just a year previous, which troops for fifty miles around had crossed the prairies to attend.