During the early days of the Salvation Army work in France, while the work was still under inspection as to its influence on the men, and one Colonel had sent a Captain around to the meetings to report upon them to him, “Ma’s” was one of the meetings to which the Captain came. She did not know that she was under suspicion, but that night she spoke on obedience and discipline, taking as her text: “Take heed to the law,” and urging the men to obey both moral and military laws so that they might be better men and better soldiers. The Captain reported on her sermon and said that he wished the regiment had a Salvation Army chaplain for every company. The hospital visitation work was started by “Ma” in the Paris hospitals while she was in that city for several months regaining her strength after a physical break-down at the front. She was idolized by the wounded. If she walked along any hospital passageway or through any ward, a crowd of men were sure to call her by name. They knew her as “Ma,” and frequently, overworked nurses have called up the Paris Salvation Army Headquarters asking if Ma could not find time to come down and sit with a dying boy who was calling for her. She observed their birthdays with books and other small presents, wrote to their mothers, wives and sweethearts, and performed a multitude of invaluable, precious little services of love. For weeks after she left Paris, returning to the front, the wounded called for her. She is one of the outstanding figures of the Salvation Army’s work with the American Expeditionary Forces in France. She is indelibly enshrined in the hearts of hundreds of American soldiers. A Salvation Army lassie bent over the bed of a wounded boy recently arrived in the Paris hospital from the front, and gave him an orange and a little sack of candy. “I know the Salvation Army,” he said with a faint smile, “I knew I should find you here.” She asked him his division and he told her he belonged to one that had been coöperating with the French. “But how can that be?” she asked in surprise, “we have never worked with your division. How do you know about us?” “I only saw the Salvation Army once,” he replied, “but I’ll never forget it. It was when I came back to consciousness in the Dressing Station at Cheppy, and the first thing I saw was a Salvation Army girl bending over me washing the blood and dirt off my face with cold water. She looked like an angel and she was that to me. She gave me a drink of cold lemonade when I was burning up with fever, and she lifted my head to pour it between my lips when I had not strength to move myself. No, I shall not forget!” One bright young fellow with a bandaged eye turned a cheerful grin toward the Salvation Army visitor as she said with compassion: “Son, I’m sorry you’ve lost your eye.”