les, dipping their colors as they went by.
Then came the Artillery in its seeming magnificent disorder. The great
horses plunging, caissons rattling, drivers holding the reins taut,
scarlet flags fluttering, it galloped over the muddy, bumpy field with
a wonderful rush. This was followed by the Motorized Artillery which
came out of the woods like a swarm of huge creeping beetles. Weird
monsters they were, and their deafening rattle reached us at a
distance like some great magnified buzz. General Pershing gave a
speech next, but I couldn't stand up a minute longer so I left, one of
the officers who had also had enough taking me back in his car. So
when our boys came marching back at 8.30 that evening, after eleven
and a half hours on their feet, I was able to greet them with hot
chocolate and cakes in the tent, to their great satisfaction.

Let's see; what else have I been doing? I have been cooking simple
meals regularly for the sick boys in the infirmary, and feeding one of
them who is too weak to sit up. Then my knowledge of dressmaking has
been taxed to the limit, for I was called upon to make a stylish gown
for the lady in the battalion show; the lady being a tall and
extremely lanky man. We have had lots of fun out of it. We are told
that our show is the best in the Division, and it is now touring the
whole area, playing every evening. Often I go with them, just for fun,
and to dress the lady. We have good times, singing as we tour the
country in the two big ambulances that the army provides for our
transportation. The boys treat me like their sister.

Of course I am most needed in Pouillenay in the evenings, and that is
where I usually am, doing my utmost to bring amusement and gaiety into
the tent. I fly from one thing to another. I get the chocolate made,
forty gallons or so, (that's the easiest thing I do, Mamma!) then I
give two men the job of serving it while I fly for my guitar, tune it
up, spend a lot of energy coaxing some bashful soul to play, perhaps
getting some one to play the mandolin too, then organizing a Virginia
reel or a square dance. It invariably takes coaxing, cajoling,
insisting, to get them started, and then they get going, and we dance
and swing our partners and grand right and left on the dirt floor, a
helpful crowd of bystanders clapping their hands, whistling and
singing in syncopated rhythm. Then usually the music gives out, and I
take the guitar and play anything and everything I know