“Put some over from there and got orders to move up in the afternoon. The column had just got formed and was waitin’ on the order to pull when a drove of Boche birds headed straight toward us. We knew they were Boches long before they got close enough to fire.
“‘Look at ’em comin’,’ shouted one guy, and the whole crew popped their eyes out.
“I felt in my bones that we were in for a good lickin’ of some kind, but I had my horse to watch out for, so I was tied up, as it were. Lots of the other guys were in the same fix as me, and when the officer yelled, ‘Take cover!’ we didn’t know what in hell to do.
“‘Tie your mounts to a wheel and beat it,’ says my platoon commander.
“Didn’t ask for any further orders. Tied Jim so hard he couldn’t have answered mess-call. Beat it to the edge of the woods and dove under a ration-wagon. The Boches was in range by then and they started a machine-gun barrage. Worst thing I ever was in. They had us by the halter-shanks, and maybe they didn’t twist and squeeze! We didn’t have nothin’ to get back at them birds with. Blooey! The bombs started to fall and bust.
“An M. P. got crowned on the bean. He had been walking post on the pontoon bridge. Tumbled right in the river and floated away. Then a bomb lands right in the middle of a caisson team. Horses’ legs and wheels was flyin’ in all directions. I couldn’t find my tin hat and sure was glad that there was two fellows layin’ on top of me as the machine-gun bullets was zippin’ all ’round us. Everybody was sayin’, ‘Where in hell is the American birds? Why don’t they show?’ After the Boches had a big chance to finee us and the bridge, and missed out, a flock of Americans and Frenchmen showed up and the Dutchmen beat it toot sweet. That was one of the Hairbreath Harry things that we had happen that day. Believe me, there wasn’t much time lost in gettin’ that column movin’ after that. When they counted up the casualties it was found that there was ’bout twelve guys killed, nine wounded, and we lost at least eighteen chevaux. There you are, O. D.
“Moved toward Beuvardis that afternoon. That took us northwest from the Marne and farther in toward Swasson (Soissons), our old hunting-grounds. There was some tough fightin’ in there, believe me. The Boches began to put up a mean defense; their artillery was in position and the roads sure caught hell for a while. I can’t remember all the woods and hills we had to take and hold, but there was beaucoup and it took beaucoup men killed to make them objectives.
“The monjayin’ got worse all the time and our nerves began to get just like a ragged toothache. So many of the fellows was gettin’ bumped off and hit ’round us that a man couldn’t help wonderin’ if his own name wasn’t written on a shell or bullet. I saw fat guys get as lean as a penny stick of candy in a week’s time. There wasn’t no chance to shave or wash, so we all looked as wild as cannibals soon. I never had any underclothes after I threw away that stuff I got at Château-Thierry. We slept full pack all the time and the cooties had one big party all day and all night. That was the time, durin’ the Second Battle of the Marne, that young majors and colonels got gray-headed.
“The second day out from St. Pierre was the day that I had a big argument with a lieutenant who blew by in a Ford. He was wearin’ a campaign hat. Course I felt superior like to any man that was wearin’ a campaign hat in them days. A campaign lid was the sign of an S. O. S. bird, ’cause we had thrown ’em to the salvage-men months ago.
“I was ploddin’ along ’way behind the column, with Herb Carnes and another guy just as lazy—my horse had been taken by a loot. Course I happened to have my high hat on. I’d lost my overseas cap, also my helmet. The loot blows by. Never thought ’bout salutin’ him. That kind of stuff is a joke up at the front, especially in a drive. He stops toot sweet and calls us back.