Then one night we were slipped in darkness from Folkestone across the English Channel to Calais. If the joy of the British in seeing us two thousand strong was great it wasn’t a marker to that of the French who cheered us as we marched through the streets of Paris, and later when the batteries had been dismissed they opened their arms to us--especially the _demoiselles_. Talk about _morale_, why I could have licked a dozen _boches_ with my left arm tied back of me. That was the kind of fighting men the Hindenburg line had to go up against. A couple of weeks later we were joined by our 75’s and horses which had been shipped across on a different boat. From that time on we moved by forced marches until we were only twenty miles back of the fighting line. For a month we were held in reserve and each day we would go out, as did numberless other batteries, set up our station and work with our airplane as we had done at West Point. We were getting pretty tired of it for we wanted to see action and there right ahead of us was the big adventure where there was action a-plenty. At last one day came the call we had looked forward to so long and we marched under cover of the night to our position somewhere between the Argonne foothills and Château Thierry. When daylight broke a most amazing sight spread out before us for there was a string of 75’s stretching on either side of our battery as far as the eye could reach and forming an almost solid wall. There was no trench fighting going on here, just open warfare between artillery, that’s all. [Illustration: “BUT FOR EVERY ONE THE BOCHES SENT WE PUT OVER TWO OR THREE”] The registering of the batteries was guessed at so that the enemy would be taken by surprise and he was. The command to fire was given and we let go a howling hurricane of shells that deluged the enemy. The German guns rallied to meet our attack and from that time on a royal artillery duel was on. Once under cover of a heavy _barrage_ their shock troops came on only to be mowed down by us at point blank range. Talk about fire and brimstone of the infernal regions, it is a feeble place of punishment as against the hades let loose in our sector that morning. Shells were screaming through the air and bursting all around us but for every one the boches sent we put over two or three. Our men were dropping but we kept the guns going as if they were fed and fired by machinery. A shell had put our wireless equipment out of action, killed a couple of our men, wounded a couple more and stunned me for a few minutes. When I came to I went over to the battery and was giving the gunners a hand. Planes were darting back and forth over us and every little while terrific battles took place between our fliers and the _boches_ for the supremacy of the air. Suddenly I saw the airplane attached to our battery fighting half a dozen enemy planes, which was often the case for the Germans had four or five times as many airplanes as we had at that time.