Nothing in all France with its grandeur and beauty of ages had looked so fine to our eyes as this little unassuming American lady. She was attended by her French maid, who, judging by her acts and expressions was devoted to her. We gave her a reception fit for a queen, and in return were treated to coffee in delicate china, and dainty sandwiches, and slices of fragrant American ham. Never to me or my comrades had the American woman and American language, seemed so dear as when in this distant land she had brought to us a breath of home. A few more days of marching brought us again to the sound of battle and the distant booming of guns. Here again were signs of war’s withering touch. We began to meet hurrying French and American battalions with cannon, machine guns, airplanes, and all the seeming clutter of moving columns. Here and there were fleeing citizens, mostly women, old men and children, with wagons piled high with their household goods. Airplanes were soaring like the white sea-gulls we had seen when leaving New York harbor. They flew singly and in flocks, some so high as to be but dimly seen, others swooping down as though about to attack us. These latter were said to be German craft in search of information. Nearer and nearer came the boom! boom! boom of the guns. Then, late that evening, we were assigned to billets, and knew that our long hike was over, and that we were again confronted by the enemy. Thus ended our six weeks’ march through France. CHAPTER XII ON THE BATTLE LINES We had come to a halt near a beautiful village, with vine-clad cottages and an old château; and were quartered in billets and temporary barracks. “Have you seen this?” said our French lieutenant interpreter, whom we met as we were on our way to the “Y”. “What is it about?” we answered, Yankee fashion, by asking another question. In reply, he translated from a French newspaper he held in his hand, the message of General Pershing tendering to General Foch all the American forces as follows: “_I come to say to you that the American people would hold it a great honor to her troops, if they were engaged in the present battle. Infantry, artillery, all are yours to dispose of as you will. Others are coming._” “That’s great!” was the general comment. And then we gave three rousing American cheers for our general, which drew a crowd of soldiers and citizens to inquire its cause. Then there was a general talk about the military situation, in which our captain took a part, and some of which I will repeat, to explain the situation. On Tuesday, March 21, 1918, the German army made its first great drive of the year, by concentrating an immense force consisting of one-half of its armies, on a fifty-mile front between the Scarp and the Oise rivers, and drove the British back before they could bring up their reserves to the point of attack.