was well concealed on a hill thickly
covered by forest trees and a dense tangle of underbrush. Much time
had been spent by the Boche soldiers in making it not only secure but
attractive. Rustic fences protected the wooden walks leading to the
main entrance. A maze of paths as in a garden, connected the various
entrances (doorways). Long flights of wooden steps led down fifteen,
twenty, and even thirty feet underground. The deepest cave was
connected by a tunnel with the railway system that had branches
everywhere through the Forest.

[Illustration: FRENCH OFFICER]

[Illustration: GERMAN OFFICER]

When we found the head surgeon we told him we had chocolate for his
patients. He took us to one of the wards where thirty men were crowded
into four small rooms. The odor of death was in the air. The labored
breathing of unconscious men cast a gloom that was hard to shake off.

"How do you stay here and keep sane?" I asked the doctor in charge.
For five days and nights he had scarcely slept, and all he had to eat
was what he prepared for himself on a little stove in the six-by-ten
room that served for office and living quarters of himself and his
assistant. "The boys are wonderful," he said, "and one forgets himself
in trying to save them."

As we went from cot to cot with a piece of chocolate for each,
gripping the hands of some and looking into the eyes of others too far
gone even to speak, we knew he had spoken the truth. No complaint
escaped their lips. The light of a great new dawn kindled in the eyes
of many, and their smile of gratitude for the kindness done them made
the small service rendered a sacrament sacred on the field of battle.

Returning one evening after a wonderful but terrible day with the boys
on the front, we worked our way along a ridge where our 75's were
belching fire into the ranks of the enemy. We were giving out the
last of our supplies to the crews who were manning these guns. I
stopped to speak to an infantry major who was directing the movements
of his men by telephone and messenger from a former German dugout
where he had taken up temporary headquarters. When I came up he was
standing by a gun looking out over the battlefield and watching the
stretcher bearers returning from the "line." He had tried in vain to
get more artillery sent forward to support his men who were being
mowed down by the merciless fire from the Boche machine guns and
cannon. At first his voice choked with emot