the gutters on either side of the road, long lines of American
infantry plodded forward through the mud and darkness. In the occasional
flash of a light, I could see that they were equipped for heavy
fighting. Many of them had their coats off, their sleeves rolled up,
while beads of sweat stood out on the young faces that shown eager
beneath the helmets. On their backs they carried, in addition to their
cumbersome packs, extra shoes and extra bandoliers of cartridges.

From their shoulders were suspended gas masks and haversacks. Their
waists were girded with loaded ammunition belts, with bayonet hanging at
the left side. Some of them wore grenade aprons full of explosives.
Nearly all of them carried their rifles or machine gun parts slung
across their backs as they leaned forward under their burdens and
plunged wearily on into the mud and darkness, the thunder and lightning,
the world destiny that was before them. Their lines were interspersed
with long files of plodding mules dragging small, two-wheeled, narrow
gauge carts loaded down with machine gun ammunition.

Under the trees to either side of the road, there was more movement.
American engineers struggled forward through the underbrush carrying, in
addition to their rifles and belts, rolls of barbed wire, steel posts,
picks and shovels and axes and saws. Beside them marched the swarthy,
undersized, bearded veterans of the Foreign Legion. Further still under
the trees, French cavalry, with their lances slung slantwise across
their shoulders, rode their horses in and out between the giant trunks.

At road intersections, I saw mighty metal monsters with steel plated
sides splotched with green and brown and red paint. These were the
French tanks that were to take part in the attack. They groaned and
grunted on their grinding gears as they manoeuvred about for safer
progress. In front of each tank there walked a man who bore suspended
from his shoulders on his back, a white towel so that the unseen
directing genius in the tank's turret could steer his way through the
underbrush and crackling saplings that were crushed down under the tread
of this modern Juggernaut.

There was no confusion, no outward manifestations of excitement. There
was no rattle of musketry, shouting of commands or waving of swords.
Officers addressed their men in whispers. There was order and quiet save
for the roll of thunder and the eternal dripping of water from the wet
leaves, punctuated