“That’s where all our headquarters was located—regimental, brigade, division, and the whole damn shootin’-match. At that time Mudgy Jones, also known as Chisel-Face or Whistlin’ Jaws, was colonel of our regiment. Let me tell you right now our regiment had a hell of a time gettin’ where it was, handicapped as we were with that man as a C. O. All he could do was walk ’round whistlin’ somethin’ that didn’t have no tune at all and find fault. Well, just to show you what kind of a gink Mudgy was, when the stuff started comin’ and breakin’ near regimental P. C. he dives down into a cellar and loses himself. The general comes over to give him hell ’bout somethin’, and he couldn’t be found. Finally some guy bribed Jones’ orderly to tell where he was. Mudgy didn’t pull any whistle stuff when the old gen. hauled him up. “The battle of Boucq lasted ’bout four days, durin’ which the One Hundred and Fourth Infantry—hardest bunch of doughboys in this man’s army—got lined up on a hill by some French general and handed the Craw de Guerre for the whole damn outfit. Only outfit in the A. E. F. that can wear that thing as a regiment, too. “We had a gang fight down ’round Xivray that lasted a day or so and made us lose quite a number of the fellows. Then we got pulled out of the Toul lines and loaded on another bunch of foolish-lookin’ trains. When we was loadin’—that was ’bout the last day of June or nearbouts—they handed out some wild rumor stuff ’bout us goin’ to parade in Paree on the Fourth. All the _soldats_ believed it and a hell of a lot of second looeys—even the C. O. By the way, Davis that was with us at Seicheprey had been made a captain and put in charge of our outfit. “The train started toward Paree and made ’bout three hundred kilos in that direction. All along the tracks and in the big towns we passed through there was gangs of girls and school-kids shoutin’ at us. Throwin’ kisses and askin’ for _bisqués_—them’s biscuits in _anglay_. We fired all the hardtack we had to ’em, as usual. “That was the time we learned how to call ourselves in _fransay_. I kept hearin’ the French kids sayin’ somethin’ that sounded like ‘_Van Seezeum_’ and wondered what the hell it meant. A French Canuck up and says, ‘That’s the way they say Twenty-sixth in Frog.’ They was glad, he says, because the old _Van Seezeum_ was on its way. Then I began gettin’ it. The kids knew who we was somehow. Some of ’em hollered, ‘_Caput_ Boches at Seicheprey.’ Gosh! there must have been somethin’ in the papers ’bout us, the way they was talkin’ it off. “Right when we got close enough to smell Paree—and Otto Page began swearin’ that he could see the Eiffel Tower—the trains got switched off to the right and started hell bent for election toward Château-Thierry. Noisy-le-Sec was where we got switched off, and that’s where the cussin’ started and it lasted until we got in the old _guerre_ again up ’round Saacy and Citry.