At this time our army in northern France were holding a sector in the world’s great battle where our regiment, with other American and French forces, faced the German army at the peak of a German salient. At some points the American positions were maintained in the shell holes that pitted the battle ground; and I felt guilty at leaving my comrades when I felt myself fit for duty and there was fighting to be done.
I was ordered to report to the colonel and receive instructions.
I stood and saluted. He looked me over critically and said, “You will do, Sergeant.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, “I feel fit for duty, and it doesn’t seem right for me to leave now.”
He again radiated one of his indefinable smiles, partly of amusement and partly something else, and said, “A little lame yet, I see.”
Then, grasping me by the shoulder, he looked in my face and said, “The decoration ceremonies are to be tomorrow, of course you know?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, “I have just received the notice.”
“I am proud and glad, my friend!”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, my heart glowing with pride that he should name me, a sergeant, his friend! I am not sure but that those words gave me more pride and pleasure than the decoration I afterwards received.
After receiving directions for my simple part in the ceremonies I saluted and left with, I confess, grateful tears in my eyes.