Later in the day, the Red Cross unit from the hospital in the neighborhood of Château-Thierry took its place in the rear of the line of march of the American Army of Occupation toward Germany.
By this time the sun was shining and the roads had become comparatively clear. Hospital supplies had been sent on ahead with a group of hospital orderlies, Dr. Clark and a corps of his physicians following soon after.
In a later automobile Mrs. Clark had with her half a dozen Red Cross nurses, and in a second Miss Blackstone, the former superintendent of the hospital, an equal number. Also there was a third automobile filled with physicians and orderlies who were to keep as close to the two other cars as circumstances allowed.
Across No Man's land on this November morning, from the northern end of France to the southern, were passing the victorious allied armies, three hundred thousand American troops led by Pershing to victory, and an equal or greater number of French and British.
In the car with Sonya the American girls had but little to say to one another during the first part of their journey. Not only was the land before them desolate beyond description, but filled with tragic memories.
Early in the afternoon, reaching the edge of a little French town, the Red Cross automobiles stopped. The occupants were in no great hurry to move forward. In advance the cavalry had swept on to prepare the way, but the infantry was going ahead slowly and would encamp for the night. This division of the Red Cross intended keeping in the background so that in case the men became ill, they could drop out and be overtaken by nurses and physicians.
The girls were glad of the rest and also extraordinarily hungry, having spent the greater part of the night and every moment since daylight in preparation for the advance.
Their three cars had stopped in front of a small farmhouse on the outskirts of the town.
Approaching the house, Sonya and Dr. Raymond believed it to be empty. The blinds were closed, the pathway to the front door untrodden. Yet it had once been a gay little house of French grey with bright blue shutters.
A knock at the door and both Sonya and the young physician thought they heard scurrying noises inside. Yet knocking again there was no reply.