Then we settled into the car; rifles in place, kits hung up on the sides, a lantern swung in the center. We were, despite all the growling, very comfortable. There was a seat for every man. All voted that it beat third class cars. We reached a coffee station, and lined up outside the car in double ranks, and each man got a cup full of French coffee. Then came an all night ride. The men took off their boots and, with a haversack for a pillow, slept snug as bugs in a rug. I slept, sitting up, with my back against the door, querying to myself if the buck private’s job was not easier than that of a sergeant. And I thought, possibly the skipper himself did not have so easy a time as I had sometimes thought. The scenery was beautiful. We followed the course of a river. On the banks were old castles, beautiful châteaus, villages with red topped roofs, and always stone bridges. “Say, boys!” exclaimed Sam, “we would have to pay big money for this sight seeing excursion, before the war.” It was getting so interesting that we forgot to eat. “Where are we going, Sergeant?” “Don’t know.” “How long will it take to get there?” inquired another inquisitive Yankee. “Don’t know,” I replied, “there are three days’ rations on board, and seven in a freight car.” “Don’t the skipper or eagle know?” “Guess not; we are travelling on confidential orders; perhaps the eagle does know.” So on through France we travelled, to heaven knows where! At last we halted at a small station. An officer met us and inquired for the commanding officer. The train pulled in to a high platform, where we unloaded. We had reached the limits of our railroad travel. It was dark, and we were tired and hungry, with prospects of cold grub for supper. We were assigned to billets by an American officer--stables, barns, stores and lofts. Some big galvanized cans of hot coffee were sent us by the officer of an American regiment already established. “Thanks!” I heard the colonel say. “I hope to return the compliment some time.” “You can return the coffee out of your ration tomorrow; it is the rule here to help each other.” The most expressive part of our location was that for the first time, we were within sound of guns. We heard a dull boom! boom! and at times thought we heard the sharper sound of rifles. We were near the front at last, and were to get practical experiences in the trenches, further to fit us for the grim duties of soldiering. CHAPTER VII IN THE TRENCHES I, with others, was billeted in a house and barn tenanted by a little French woman with a brood of several young children, whose husband was fighting for France. Others were billeted, by the town major, in warehouses, lofts, and other places. After a few days’ rest in our billets, we were marched to the trenches.