ers to find that we were first to reach
the sector allotted for American occupation. The name of the town was
Serevilliers.

Our ears did not delude us about the activity of the sector, but I found
that officers and men of the detail were inclined to accept the heavy
shelling in a non-committal manner until a French interpreter attached
to us remarked that artillery action in the sector was as intense as any
he had experienced at Verdun.

If the ever present crash of shells reminded us that we were opposite
the peak of the German push, there was plenty of work to engage minds
that might otherwise have paid too much attention to the dangers of
their location. A chalk cellar with a vaulted ceiling and ventilators,
unfortunately opening on the enemy side of the upper structure, was
selected as the battalion command post. The men went to work immediately
to remove piles of dirty billeting straw under which was found glass,
china, silverware and family portraits, all of which had been hurriedly
buried by the owners of the house not two weeks before.

While linemen planned communications, and battery officers surveyed gun
positions, the battalion commander and two orienting officers went
forward to the frontal zone to get the first look at our future targets
and establish observation posts from which our firing could be
directed. I accompanied the small party, which was led by a French
officer familiar with the sector. It was upon his advice that we left
the roads and took cuts across fields, avoiding the path and road
intersections and taking advantage of any shelter offered by the ground.

Virgin fields on our way bore the enormous craters left by the explosion
of poorly directed German shells of heavy calibre. Orders were to throw
ourselves face downward upon the ground upon the sound of each
approaching missile. There is no text book logic on judging from the
sound of a shell whether it has your address written on it, but it is
surprising how quick that education may be obtained by experience.
Several hours of walking and dropping to the ground resulted in an
attuning of the ears which made it possible to judge approximately
whether that oncoming, whining, unseen thing from above would land
dangerously near or ineffectively far from us. The knowledge was common
to all of us and all of our ears were keenly tuned for the sounds. Time
after time the collective judgment and consequent prostration of the
entire party was p