Lying near me on the chill ground that night was Major Winthrop
Whittington of Cleveland, Ohio, one of the most efficient, kindest and
wittiest of our officers, and who later served as our Chief of Staff.
Someone had just remarked that Napoleon used frequently to come to
Ponteneuson. "That explains," quietly remarked the Major, "the
three-hour sleep theory held by Napoleon--(sufficient for any man);
three hours is all any man could sleep in such a hell of a place."

How we survived that night and the following six days and nights can
only be ascribed to that merciful dispensation of God which has carried
us through many a trial. Our habitation was now the open field, drenched
in a dust storm that blew constantly. We sat on the roadside and ate our
meager fare, making joke and jest of our utter lack of comfort.

Immediately adjacent to us was the guard house, a prison camp, pitched
in the open field, and surrounded by barbwire fencing. The only shelter
these wretched boys had--they were all Americans--were holes they had
burrowed in the ground and little shacks they had constructed from odd
pieces of boards they had found. Through the days and nights the chorus
of their angry, cursing voices was borne to our ears on the howling
wind.

One day we were hurried into formation and sent past the reviewing
stand. President Poincare of France was paying us a call. His motor car,
escorted by an outriding troop of French cavalry, and heralded by shrill
bugle calls, came whirling into our midst on the wings of a dust cloud.

[Illustration: TAPS AND FAREWELL VOLLEYS FOR OUR HEROIC DEAD.]

Alighting in front of the improvised reviewing stand, he immediately
became the center of an animated group; the khaki of our camp
officers mingling with the blue, red and gold of the French. No time
was lost by the little man in black suit and cravat in starting the
review. The long lines of our doughboys, their rifles, with fixed
bayonets, flashing and dazzling in the rays of the setting sun, swept by
like some rushing, splashing Niagara torrent. The review was evidence,
at least, as to our number, stamina and equipment.

The following morning, a full hour before the dawn, we were quietly
aroused, ordered to roll our blanket packs and get into line. Glorious
news! We were on the move, starting for our training area and thence
into the fighting lines! Within forty minutes we were on the march,
leaving Ponteneuson, as we had entered it, u