We sat Mr. Prussian on the firing step and told him a few things that would not look well in this book, and he finally spoke in English, when we called the escort to get what information we could from him. He asked after some friends he had made at Columbia College, New York City, where he had been educated. He told us that just before the war broke out he had been called back to Germany, supposedly to attend a military fête, as he was still subject to military service. He had no idea, he said, that he was going to be sent to war and he had been drugged and sent into battle, forced on by officers in the rear. After we had "pumped him dry" he was handed over, together with fourteen other prisoners, who were taken the same night, and sent to the cage, four miles to the rear. On the way to the cage he complained to a soldier, in the guard accompanying the prisoners, of the difficulty of marching through the mud, which was very deep. The guard told him he should be thankful that he was not in his (the guard's) place, as he had to walk back again. I should have stated before that I cut off the buttons from the officer's uniform when he died and kept them together with his field glasses as souvenirs. I have them still as no one has claimed them. A MACHINE GUNNER'S STORY BY MACHINE GUNNER GEORGE ECKHART, NO. 165688, 1ST M. G. BATT., 1ST DIV., A.E.F. I ENLISTED in the service of my country April 6, 1917, when we declared war on Germany. I was sent to Fort Douglas, Arizona, in the same month, put in the 18th Infantry, Regular Army. On June 4, 1917, we got orders to pack up and leave for another camp, and one night when our train came to a halt I got up from bed and said to the boys: "Boys, we are in Hoboken," and we all knew then where we were going. We got on the transports the same night about eleven o'clock. There were a lot of sad faces watching their dear boys going "Over There" to fight to make the world safe for Democracy. We sailed away from dear old America, June 14, 1917. When we passed the Statue of Liberty we watched her holding the light of freedom and strained our eyes as our transport moved out into the ocean for a last look at her, wondering if we would ever see that dear old Statue of Liberty again. [Illustration: MACHINE GUNNER GEORGE ECKHART] We had a pleasant, fourteen-day trip across the ocean. And one bright morning we saw land. All the boys shouted "France, we have come to you." Four hours later we were beside our dock, and got off the boats. All the French people kissed us and were glad to see America come to help her sister republic. The French people shouted "Vive la America." We shouted back "Vive la France." We had a big reception and the peasants took us around and showed us the villages. We did not stay there long, but moved toward the front where we could hear the thundering of the artillery barrages. We had two months of strenuous training with the French Blue Devils.