lgerians would take us over at midnight. We then began to collect our
wounded. Some had been evacuated during the day, but at that, we soon
had about twenty on the field near us.

"A man who had been blinded wanted me to hold his hand. Another, wounded
in the back, wanted his head patted; and so it went; one man got up on
his hands and knees; I asked him what he wanted. He said: 'Look at the
full moon,' then fell dead. I had him buried, and all the rest I could
find.

"The Algerians came up at midnight and we pushed out. They went over at
daybreak and got all shot up. We made the relief under German flares and
the light from a burning town.

"We went out as we came, through the gully and town, the latter by now
all in ruins. The place was full of gas. We pushed on to the forest and
fell down in our tracks and slept all day.

A FUNERAL, AT THE FRONT

"That night the Germans shelled us and got three killed and seventeen
wounded. We move a bit farther back to the cross road and after burying
a few Germans, some of whom showed signs of having been wounded before,
we settled down to a short stay.

"It looked like rain, and so Wilmer and I went to an old dressing
station to salvage some cover. We were about to go when we stopped to
look at a new grave. A rude cross made of two slats from a box had
written on it:

"Lester S. Wass, Captain U. S. Marines. July 18, 1918."

"The old crowd at St. Nazaire and Bordeaux--Wass and Sumner killed,
Baston and Capt. LeRoy T. Hunt wounded. We then moved further to the
rear and camped for the night. Dunlap came to look us over. A carrier
pigeon perched on a tree with a message. We decided to shoot him. It was
then quite dark, so the shot missed. I then heard the following remarks
as I tried to sleep: 'Hell! he only turned around!' 'Send up a flare!'
'Call for a barrage!' etc.

"The next day we were back in a town for some rest and to lick our
wounds."

IMPRESSION OF A FRENCH LIEUTENANT

A French lieutenant thus describes the American fighting quality:

"The finest thing in the combat was the dash of the Americans. It was
splendid to see those grand fellows, with their tunics thrown off and
their shirt sleeves rolled up above their elbows, wading the rivers with
the water to their shoulders and throwing themselves on the Boche like
bulldogs.

"Any one who has seen such a sight knows what the American army is good
for henceforth and to the end of the war. At the sight of these