There were humorous incidents; that is, humorous when we look back on them, safely in camp. One goes as follows: Three cars running out to the _poste_ about thirty yards apart. The whistle of shells and a great increase in speed in the cars. (Somehow speed seems to give the feeling of more security.) Road getting too hot--shells falling between the cars as they run. First car stopped short and driver jumped about thirty feet into a trench by the roadside. Landed in six inches of water and stayed. Car No. 2 stopped, but not short enough to prevent smashing into tail-board of No. 1. Driver made jump and splash No. 2 into trench. Ditto for Car No. 3 (me). Whistle and bang of shell, crash of hitting cars, and splash of falling men in water. Here we remained until the "storm blew over." I am mighty glad we are through and out of it all. Whatever action we go into again, it cannot be harder or more dangerous than what we have been through. That will be impossible. I don't know yet whether I am glad or not to have had such an experience. It was all so gigantic and terrifying. It was war in its worst butchery. We all of us lost weight, but health and morale are O.K., and we are ready for more work after our repose. When you read this, remember I am out of it and in less dangerous parts.... The French military is giving half of us forty-eight hours _permission_ for the Fourth of July. We are going for a two days' spree in Paris! My debits to date are one letter from mother of the 7th; one shirt, chocolate, and corduroy suit. I would rather you didn't pass this letter around much. It is too hurried and slapdash, and I may have quite different opinions after we have calmed down a bit. EDWARD (_Tinkham_) P.S. Barber was given the _Médaille Militaire_--most coveted of military honors. IV ----_France, June 30_ _Dearest "folks at home," abroad--and Grandma!_ Four nights ago I had a pretty narrow escape. I can mention no names here, but this is the gist of the story:-- I was driving my car with three wounded soldiers in it along a road that was being shelled. Well, I got in the midst of a pretty hot shower, so I stopped my car and got under it. A few minutes later I supposed it was blowing over, so I got out. I had no sooner done so than I heard one of those big _obus_ coming, the loudest I had ever heard. I ran to the front of my car, crouching down in front of the radiator. When it burst it struck the car. My three soldiers were killed. I was hurt only a little. I am not disfigured in any way. It just tore my side and legs a bit. The French treated me wonderfully. I succeeded in getting the next American Ambulance driven by Wheeler (a great boy) who took me to the City of ---- where our _poste_ is. Here I was given first aid, and the _Médecin chef_ personally conducted me in an American Ambulance, in the middle of the night, to a very good hospital. They say I have the best doctor in France--in Paris.