At this time I was gaining strength rapidly and was able to get around fairly well. I was given a pass out of the hospital, and with two other boys who were fairly strong, we went into the business district of Tours to witness the celebration. It was like a great city gone mad. The streets were crowded with civilians, and everybody was waving flags. Most people had a French flag in one hand, and the flag of one of the Allied nations in the other. The American flag predominated above all other Allied flags; in fact, the people of Tours seemed to be very partial to America. "Vive l'Amerique" they shouted, "La guerre est fini." They are very emotional and demonstrative. They lined the sidewalks of the business streets, waving their flags and shouting in their native tongue, while an American Marine Band playing patriotic music, marched up one street and down another. It was a general holiday and no business was done that day, and but very little for several days thereafter. All American soldiers in the city were lionized. When a group of enthusiastic Frenchmen would get hold of a buddy, they would insist on taking him to a cafe and buying the most expensive of wines. If we could have conserved all the liquor the French were willing to buy for us that day, dry America would not worry us. I was seated on a bench in one of the parks watching the demonstration and contrasting it with the probable demonstrations in American cities on that day, when two flags, one French and the other American, dropped over my shoulders. I straightened up and the next thing I knew I was strongly clasped in the arms of a beautiful young French girl, elegantly dressed and bewitchingly charming. She kissed me fervently on each cheek. The sensation was pleasant, but it was rather embarrassing inasmuch as it was in full view of hundreds of people who were celebrating. If the shades of evening had been falling, the spot more secluded and the number reduced to two, it would have been more to my American tastes. However, I arose, conscious that I was blushing, and offered the beauty my hand. She could scarcely speak a word of English and I scarcely a word of French, but we managed to make each other understand that it was a pleasurable greeting. She was soon on her way joyfully waving her flags, and I--well, I charged myself up with a lost opportunity for not being more proficient in the polite use of the French language. We remained in the city until 9:30 that evening, and the people were still celebrating. And they kept it up for several days and several nights, so great was their joy in knowing that the war was over and that the enemy had been crushed.