"It was in 1914, and the Great World's War was on, and there was I, in the United States and--_neutral_. For thirteen years I had been soldiering but had never been under fire. In my imagination I could hear the guns booming on the Western Front. I admit I was a trifle afraid; nevertheless, I had a great desire to get into the mix-up. How could I get over? I planned out many ways, but not one of them was practical. "One day, while walking down Greenwich Avenue, New York, I passed an employment agency. Staring me in the face was a great flaring sign, 'Horses for France.' Under this was 'Men Wanted.' Here was my chance. "Upon returning to my office I immediately got in touch, over the telephone, with two prominent men in New York who I knew were distinctly pro-Ally. After I had outlined my desire, an appointment was made for me to meet a certain gentleman at the Hotel Astor at four o'clock that afternoon. I met him. He was a Frenchman. At that time, in my eyes, a Frenchman was a hero, a man to be looked up to, a man fighting in the Great Cause. But now a Frenchman to me is more than a hero. After being introduced I went up into the Frenchman's room and talked over the matter of horses for France for about twenty minutes. "Upon leaving the Frenchman I was told to report to him three days later, at the same time and place. I left, bubbling over with enthusiasm and anticipation. "During that interval of three days I mapped out a story of my life to present to him upon our second interview. The eventful day at last came, and once more I was closeted with him. "I started in to tell him my history. He interrupted me by waving his right hand to the right and left. It reminded me of the 'butts' on a target range during rifle practice, when the soldier marking the target wigwags a miss to the firing-line. My heart sank. Then he spoke, and I was carried from despondency to the greatest height of expectation. He said: 'Pardon me, Monsieur, I already know your life,' and in an amazingly short time he told me more about myself than I ever knew. I had been carefully investigated. "My instructions received from him were confidential, so I will not go into them. Anyway, he handed me an envelope and told me to carefully follow all instructions as contained therein. "I immediately went back to my office, opened the envelope and on a typewritten sheet I read: 'Report at Goldsmith's Employment Agency, No. ---- Greenwich Street. Ship as an ordinary horseman and during voyage carefully follow the verbal instructions received by you during our interview, making careful note of all details immediately after happening. Be cautious in doing this. Upon landing in France report to the Prefecture of Police, Bordeaux, and obey his instructions to the letter. Good luck.' "I went home and put on my oldest clothes; an old blue serge suit, an olive drab shirt, a heavy pair of army shoes and a woolen cap. I had let my beard grow and I certainly looked rough.