At St. Joire, the wood pile had entirely given out and it looked as if there was to be no heat at the Salvation Army hut that night. The sergeant promised them half a load, but the wood wagon lost a wheel about a hundred yards out of town. “Never mind,” said the sergeant to the girls, “the boys will see that you get some to-night.” So he requested every man going up to the Salvation Army hut that evening to carry a stick of wood with him (“a stick” may weigh anywhere from 10 to 100 pounds). By eight o’clock there was over a wagon load and a half stacked in back of the hut. Two small stoves cast circles of heat in the big hut at Demange. Around them the men crowded with their wet garments steaming so profusely that the hut often took on the appearance of a steam-room in a Turkish bath. The rest of the hut was cold; but compared to the weather outside, it was heaven-like. For all of its size, the hut was frail, and the winter wind blew coldly through its many cracks; but compared with the soldier’s billets, it was a cozy palace. The Salvationists spent hours each week sitting on the roof in the driving rain patching leaks with tar-paper and tacks. The life was a hard one for the girls. They nearly froze during the days, and at nights they usually shivered themselves to sleep, only sleeping when sheer exhaustion overcame them. There were no baths at all. The experience was most trying for women and only the spirit of the great enterprise in which they were engaged carried them through the winter. Even soldiers were at times seen weeping with cold and misery. One night the gasoline tank which supplied light to the hut exploded and set the place on fire. A whole regiment turned out of their blankets to put out the blaze. This meant more hours for those in charge repairing the roof in the snow. They also had to cut all of the wood for the hut. Later details were supplied to every hut by the military authorities to cut wood, sweep and clean up, carry water, _etc_. Soldiers used the hut for a mess hall. There was no other place where they could eat with any degree of comfort. By this time the fact that the Salvation Army was established at Demange was becoming known throughout the division. One of the towns where there had been no arrangements made for welfare workers at all was Montiers-sur-Saulx, where the First Ammunition Train was established, and here the officer temporarily commanding the ammunition train gave a most hearty welcome to the Salvation Army. Two large circus tents had been sent on from New York and one of these was to be erected until a wooden building could be secured. The touring car went back to Demange, picked up a Staff-Captain, a Captain, five white tents, the largest one thirty by sixty feet, the others smaller, carried them across the country and dropped them down at the roadside of the public square in Montiers. There stood the Salvationists in the road wondering what to do next.