On August 25th the London Evening Mail published the news of General NcNair’s promotion. We were of course glad of the obviously merited reward, but selfishly would rather have had it otherwise, for of course he would cease to be our Brigade commander. However, at the time we consoled ourselves with the thought that he might command the Corps artillery of which we would be a part. That night there was a dinner and celebration at Brigade Headquarters. The scene was picturesque and one to be remembered. The French Mayors of the villages where our troops were billeted were invited and came. The meal was served on the lawn under a huge tree in those beautiful gardens. A hundred yards down the lawn through the trees we could see the 301st band, conducted by Lieutenant Keller. They played as even they had never played before. The villagers, hearing the music, flocked to the gates and the General sent word to the guard that the sentries were to let them in. In they came and went straight to the music. Sitting on the lawn they made a huge circle around the band, and gave our Headquarters a very festive appearance. It was a rare occasion for them. Lovers of music that they were, it was seldom that they had an opportunity to hear it. Their own bands had long been busy nearer the front. On September 5th and 8th the two regiments, 302nd and 301st respectively, moved to Souge for the final six weeks firing before going to the front. We made the trip, some twenty miles, with our own transportation. Brigade Headquarters was established at the camp on September 8th and the Ammunition Train moved in the same day. Souge is located in the middle of a sand desert at the end of the world. As far as you can see there is not a landmark to relieve the monotony. It is as flat as a table all the way to the sea, some twenty-five miles distant. As Major Hadley of the 301st remarked: “It is a nice beach but where is the water?” Souge may best be described as follows,--a camp some two miles long of ramshackle, broken down, foul smelling barracks in the middle of the desert which was to be our range. Flies, sand, dust and heat were in abundance, as were dysentery and the “Flu” at times. The flies were like ours except larger, more abundant and infinitely more obnoxious. As one of our men wrote home, he was in the hospital as a result of having been kicked by a fly. _Of all the camps in the A. E. F. Whether S. O. S. or zone of Advance, You will cuss until you’re out of breath This Camp de Souge in France._ But there we were. We ate the dust, we killed flies and we sweat in the sweltering heat, as we pulled guns, trucks and tractors through that damnable sand.