“Not one, sir,” was the reply. “What! Not the rule about keeping the Sabbath?” “No, sir.” “Ah, well, you’re the very man I’ve been looking for to scrub out the canteen.” LIFE AT THE FRONT HERE are letters from the boys at the front telling the folks at home of their experiences, humorous, pathetic, and tragic. They present pictures of war life with an intimate touch that brings out all the striking detail. James E. Parshall, of Detroit, is serving with the American ambulance unit in the French army. The Detroit _Saturday Night_, which prints his letter, believes that the “drive” referred to by him was either on the Aisne front or in the Verdun sector. The letter says in part: DEAR PEOPLE: Sherman was right! I have been debating with myself about what to say in this letter. I think I’ll tell you all about it and add that if by the time this reaches you you have heard nothing to the contrary, I am all O. K. You see, we are in a big offensive which will be over in about ten days. As a rule it’s not nearly as bad as this. The day before yesterday we arrived at our base, about seven miles from the lines. It is a little town which has been pretty well shot up, and is shelled now about once a week. In the afternoon one driver from each car was taken up and shown the roads and posts. The coin flopped for me. The roads to the front run mostly through deep woods. These woods are full of very heavy batteries which are continually shelling the enemy, and, in turn, we are continuously being sought out by the _Boche_ gunners. As a result, it’s some hot place to drive through. Also, as a result of the continuous shelling, the roads are very bad. [Here there is a break in the letter, which begins again after four days.] I was so nervous when I started this letter that I had to quit, and this is the first time since then that I have felt like writing. A great deal has happened, but in order not to mix everything up I’ll start in where I left off. Our first post from the base is in a little village which is entirely demolished. It is in a little valley, and the two big marine guns that are stationed there draw a very disquieting _Boche_ fire about five times a day regularly. The next post is at a graveyard in the woods. There are no batteries in the immediate vicinity, and so it is quiet, but not very cheerful. (That’s where I am now, “on reserve.”) The third post out is where we got our initiation. It was a hot one! Right next to the _abri_ is a battery of three very large mortars. Besides these there are several batteries of smaller guns. When we came up they were all going at full tilt. In addition, the _Boches_ had just got the range and the shells were exploding all around us. As we jumped out of the car and ran for the _abri_ two horses tied to a tree about fifty feet from us were hit and killed. We waited in the _abri_ till the bombardment calmed a bit. When we came out two more horses were dead and a third kicking his last.