tern New York Diocese, who had journeyed over
from Chaumont to visit us. A thorough gentleman and efficient officer
was the good Bishop; and naught but the best and most cordial good will
has ever characterized our relations.

It was but a few days subsequent to his visit that I received from
General Pershing the special orders making me Senior Chaplain of the
Seventh Division and brevet of Captaincy. For this honor I have ever
been grateful to Bishop Brent and our gallant Division Commander General
Baarth.

Although our sojourn with the Burgundians had been brief, the conduct of
officers and men had won universal respect. Genuinely sad the villagers
were to see us fall in, that rainy afternoon, under marching orders. We
had just been equipped with gas masks; and for the first time wore our
prized chapeaus, the steel helmets.

Sad was the house of Barnicault! Petit Andree followed me about, weeping
constantly. Madame prepared her best omelet and cafe-au-lait and
Monsieur opened his most prized bottle of Burgundy. I left with them
many odds and ends the zealous merchants back home in the States had
thoughtfully recommended, but which stern Army regulations decried for
front line use. Trunks were left behind; and all we needed we carried in
our ever-faithful packs. With a last blessing to the dear old couple,
kneeling sobbing at my feet, a last hug from Andree, whose fond little
arms I had to forcibly release from my neck, I put on my helmet,
shouldered my pack and was gone!

The rain fell in torrents; and quickly I took position in the long,
waiting line. We marched at once, taking the road to Neuite-sur-Yonne;
and far on our way the old church bells called sadly after us in their
benison of last farewell. We never returned to Ancey-le-Franc; but to
its beloved inhabitants we still live, for,

"To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die."

We reached our Rail Head, the main line to the regions of
Meurthe-et-Moselle, at nine o'clock; and struck camp in the yards and
fields for the night. As the night was chill and our camp sufficiently
secure from observation, fires were kindled by the various companies.
Gathered in their cheering circles of warmth and glow, the boys beguiled
the hours preceding Taps, with jest and song. They sang of love and war
and God; and through all their melody, as a golden thread, could be
traced the thought of home and of a Great Tomorrow! Gradually, as glow
of sunset paling in the