you that, in
spite of my "extreme youth," I was near to being frozen en route. We
were so cold that finally the whole regiment had to dismount and
proceed on foot in the hope of warming up a bit. We were all, in the
end, sad, cross, and grumbly. You had spoiled us all at Huiry and
Voisins. For my part I longed to curse someone for having ordered
such a change of base as this, in such weather. Wasn't I well enough
off where I was, toasting myself before your nice fire, and drinking my
tea comfortably every afternoon?

However, we are working tremendously for the coming offensive. And
I hope it will be the final one, for the Germans are beginning to show
signs of fatigue. News comes to us from the interior, from a reliable
source, which indicates that the situation on the other side of the
Rhine is anything but calm. More than ever now must we hang on, for
the victory is almost within our clutch.

Accept, madame, the assurance of my most respectful homage,

A------B------.

So you see, we were all too previous in expecting the offensive. The
cavalry is not yet really mounted for action. But we hope all the same.

The 118th is slowly settling down, but I'll tell you about that later.

XXXIV

February 10, 1917

Well, the 118th has settled down to what looks like a long
cantonnement. It is surely the liveliest as well as the biggest we ever
had here, and every little town and village is crowded between here
and Coulommier. Not only are there five thousand infantry billeted
along the hills and in the valleys, but there are big divisions of
artillery also. The little square in front of our railway station at
Couilly is full of grey cannon and ammunition wagons, and there
are military kitchens and all sorts of commissary wagons along
all the roadsides between here and Crecy-en-Brie, which is the
distributing headquarters for all sorts of material.

As the weather has been intolerably cold, though it is dry and often
sunny, the soldiers are billeted in big groups of fifty or sixty in a room
or grange, where they sleep in straw, rolled in their blankets, packed
like sardines to keep warm.

They came in nearly frozen, but they thawed out quickly, and now
they don't mind the weather at all.

Hardly had they got thawed out when an epidemic of mumps broke
out. They made quick work of evacuating those who had it, and stop
its spreading, to the regret, I am afraid, of a good many of the boys.
One of them sa