d the Hudson River with
bands playing fore and aft, drowned by the whistles that hailed us from
boats and from shore. The office buildings of lower Manhattan blossomed
with waving handkerchiefs, and passing ferryboats seemed a mass of
fluttering humanity. But their welcome was not more heartfelt than the
intense, though quiet, satisfaction and joy of the boys at being home
once more.

As they transferred from the ship to the ferry boat at the adjoining
dock, the boys received apples, candy, chocolate and other food, none of
which was so welcome as a quarter of a juicy American apple pie, truly a
token of home. After a short ride up the river, we boarded a train of
American passenger cars, a great change from our previous mode of
railway transportation. A driving snow and a chilly wind reminded us
that we were in a new climate, much different from the mild weather of
the winter we had just passed. It was nearly midnight, after a hike of
several miles to Camp Merritt with full packs, when we at last found our
barracks, but the place buzzed in sleepless excitement long afterward.

After going through the required sanitary processes next day and moving
to new barracks, there followed several days of basking in the warmth of
the New Jersey spring sun, trips to New York quite without regard to the
limited number of passes allowed the battery, and details that bothered
no one save perhaps some conscientious corporal.

But everyone awaited impatiently to entrain for Chicago. May 6 was a
joyful day. Indeed, no days were otherwise for the rest of the week.
Leaving, at Dumont, at 3 Tuesday afternoon, the Second Battalion train
reached the outskirts of Chicago early Thursday morning. The bedlam of
engine blasts as we passed the train yards was deafening. From then on,
there was a continuous accompaniment of whistles and bells. All along
the I. C. tracks, flags and pennants and handkerchiefs waved welcome.
Nobody seemed to notice the light rain that fell. The way out of the
Park Row station was so blocked by relatives and friends that it took
over an hour to cover the three blocks to the Coliseum. As each soldier
emerged, a joyful cry marked his discovery by those who hastened to
fling themselves upon him. There is doubt whether there was a girl in
Lagrange who failed to kiss Dick Barron. Nobody much cared about the
formation of the columns; before long there wasn't any. Just happy
soldiers walking along, each in the midst of his