"I got eight out of the bunch by a little surprise shooting," said the Sergeant with a considerable show of pride. "They flopped nicely. Then I turned on the other squad, but they were leary and I only got one. The rest of them got into the ditch and crawled back without showing themselves. Later in the day their Red Cross men came out to pick up the wounded. We've got orders not to fire on members of the Red Cross, so I let 'em work unmolested. But I kept tally all day when their Red Cross men came out. By my count they carried off nine and they weren't all wounded, either." The Germans during the day of June 1 gained the hills overlooking the north bank of the river. Their machine guns and their artillery observers, therefore, were able to direct a galling fire on the south bank and portions of the north bank which still were held by French colonials and two machine guns under an American Lieutenant. DEADLY MACHINE GUNS The enemy's position thus made the north bank untenable and orders were given to retire to the south bank under cover of the darkness. At 9:30 P. M. the French, in accordance with these plans, retired to the south bank and blew up a stone bridge. The American machine gun companies during the retirement poured a galling fire from the flanks into the areas evacuated by the retiring troops. The enemy was now shelling the south bank more heavily and the enemy machine-gun fire was multiplied. The commander of Company A was forced to change the position of his guns in order to secure a better field of fire. With the light Hotchkiss pieces on their shoulders he led his men into a wood further down the river. Here they were spotted by enemy observers and thirty high explosive shells crashed into the wood. The shelling ceased and the guns went into their positions. The French were still retiring at 10:30 P. M. It was pitch dark, except for shell bursts and the streaky flame stabs from the machine guns on both sides--the Americans were in the wood and along the south bank of the river, the Germans on the crest of the hill on the other side. Suddenly there was an immense detonation. It was the big bridge blowing up. Then there came out of the darkness across the river, as the firing lulled, the ghostly chant of the advancing enemy. It was one of those German mass attacks, where men, shoulder to shoulder, singing in guttural tones the praise of Germany and the Kaiser, blindly walk into death like fanatics.