suite on the upper deck.
His aides and secretaries had already transformed it into a
business-like apartment. In the General's mind there was no place or
time for any consideration of the dangers of the Channel crossing.
Although the very waters through which we dashed were known to be
infested with submarines which would have looked upon him as capital
prey, I don't believe the General ever gave them as much as a thought.

Every time I looked through the open door of his cabin, he was busy
dictating letters to his secretaries or orders or instructions to his
aides or conferring with his Chief of Staff, Brigadier General Harbord.
To the American commander, the hours necessary for the dash across the
Channel simply represented a little more time which he could devote to
the plans for the great work ahead of him.

Our ship was guarded on all sides and above. Swift torpedo destroyers
dashed to and fro under our bow and stern and circled us continually. In
the air above hydro-airplanes and dirigible balloons hovered over the
waters surrounding us, keeping sharp watch for the first appearance of
the dark sub-sea hulks of destruction.

[Illustration: THE ARRIVAL IN LONDON, SHOWING GENERAL PERSHING, MR.
PAGE, FIELD MARSHAL VISCOUNT FRENCH, LORD DERBY, AND ADMIRAL SIMS]

[Illustration: GENERAL PERSHING BOWING TO THE CROWD IN PARIS]

We did not learn until the next day that while we were making that
Channel crossing, the German air forces had crossed the Channel in a
daring daylight raid and were at that very hour dropping bombs on London
around the very hotel which General Pershing had just vacated. Some day,
after the war, I hope to ascertain whether the commander of that flight
of bombing Gothas started on his expedition over London with a special
purpose in view and whether that purpose concerned the supposed presence
there of the commander-in-chief of the American millions that were later
to change the entire complexion of the war against Germany.

It was a beautiful sunlight day. It was not long before the coast line
of France began to push itself up through the distant Channel mists and
make itself visible on the horizon. I stood in the bow of the ship
looking toward the coast line and silent with thoughts concerning the
momentousness of the approaching historical event.

It happened that I looked back amidships and saw a solitary figure
standing on the bridge of the vessel. It was General Pershing. He seemed
rapt