January 18th. Since last writing nothing of great importance has taken place.

My recommendation for a majority was sent to Washington about ten days ago by Colonel Hansell. I hope it goes through and goes through quickly. The snow has all disappeared and beautiful, glorious mud reigns in its place. The Colonel is trying to jack up discipline—God knows it needs it. I caught one man staggering home dead drunk and had the pleasure of putting him under arrest. Blankets are being taken and electric-light bulbs. The same old lazy American methods. Saw our officers walking along the roads in their long coats, pretty sloppy looking objects. You cannot make a soldier unless you dress him in a soldierly fashion. The everlasting cry is we are a young country and it takes us time to learn, but, damnation, does it take one hundred and fifty years? Why could not our Government have attended to these matters twenty-five years ago?

February 1st. Kilbane, Steiner and myself are off in the morning for our seven days' vacation. We are going to Nice, motoring to Dijon where we hope to be able to catch the train or rather get accommodations on a train, as we hear everything is crowded.

Took my physical exam. for majority two days ago, Martin examining.

We have had a wonderful fifteen days of clear weather, half of them quite summery, but for the most part the air is very damp and penetrating.

February 14th. Back in Nice, with one day in Paris. We caught the train from Dijon at one thirty a.m., and stood up the balance of the night in the corridor as there were no seats—men and women stretched out full length lying on the floor. Reached Marseilles at twelve noon the next day, and stopped off for the balance of the day and night, taking the express next morning. Beautiful country. Stopped at Nice at the Hotel Negresco. First class. Perfect weather.

We have twelve new M. C. nurses and enlisted men. A perfect mob now, but they seem a fairly decent lot. Same old job, except this time I am to start some fool work on food with a test squad of fifty men. Cannot make out any point to it, except they want to find out how much waste there is in preparation of food.

February 22nd. Was sworn in as Major this morning by Colonel Island.

February 28th. Howard Peck died.

March 1st. Howard's funeral. 6th Artillery brass band, and all walked down to the new American Cemetery. Poor Major Peck!

March 2nd. We heard two weeks ago that Alfred Stillman's brother was killed while flying. Alfred has been in London, having left on receipt of the news.

There are twelve new raw-boned Southerners added to our Unit since my return from Nice.

This morning we sent two operating teams to American C.C.S. No. 1, McWilliams among them. Armitage Whittman has taken Henry James's bed in our rooms. He seems to be a nice fellow. Stuart Benson, Paul Draper, Beekman Hoppin and Mrs. "Bordie" Harriman have all turned up at one time or another.

March 9th. Alfred Stillman and I got a motor and rode out to American C.C.S. No. 1, just north of Toul—a beautiful spring day and a very pleasant trip. We lunched and dined at the Officers' Club, NeufchÂteau, which sports a fine bar.

March 10th. Last night some of the convalescent officers got two motors and we went down and saw Elsie Janis. She told stories, sang songs and danced for an hour and fifteen minutes. It was a delightful performance, she was so perfectly natural and joked and talked with the audience.

March 14th. Am leaving for Paris for two days to-night with Major Malone.

March 23rd. This has been an eventful day. In the first place, Colonel Hansell and Major Peck went on their vacations and I was left C.O., which entails many fussy details. Then this afternoon Colonel Mitchell of the Flying Corps, who was recently a patient of mine at the Officers' Pavillion, paid me a call, asked me to motor out to Hill 412 Aerodrome with him, and sent me off on an aeroplane flight with a French pilot.

It was a wonderful sensation. We flew about twenty miles, circling over Chaumont and the hospital. Words cannot describe it. It has all the thrill of flying. The woods looked like little bunches of moss. We flew over the Canal, which had the color of bright emerald. The Flying Corps for me, if it wasn't for this cursed age.

April 4th. This is approximately the tenth day of the great battle. For many days we have all been very anxious, but now a rapid feeling of confidence has arisen that the enemy is held.

Have been Commanding Officer at the hospital for the past thirteen days, the Colonel and Peck having taken their vacation in Nice.

April 19th. Paris—Medical conference. Hansell and I roomed together. I heard the big gun go off twice, otherwise all was quiet.

Alexander Lambert asked me to dine with him. There were eight at dinner—his wife, Major Strong and wife, and Colonel Island, also Colonels Martin and Cummings of the English Army. While there Major Thayer told me I was to be detailed to one of the Divisions as Divisional Consultant. I was much pleased, as the news was a great surprise, for among all the wire-pulling I hardly expected to have anything good handed out unsolicited.

April 25th. Orders to proceed to NeufchÂteau. Threw the necessities in my old grip, rolled up the bedding and off in a Ford ambulance. Of course, all haste was unnecessary, as when I got in Major Thayer was away and Boggs, the Assistant Director of Medical Service, had gone to Chaumont. Saw Finney, who invited me to lunch—one of those sweetly solemn male luncheons where every one was afraid to say anything.

Later that day Boggs turned up and we talked over affairs. The Consultant has charge and direction of all cases in his department. My orders were in a measure vague, and I should imagine it was largely up to me to create the position.

Spent the night at the Officers' Club and next day, Saturday, motored with Finney and Boggs to C. C. S. No. 1 at Sevastepol where we lunched. Saw Pool and McWilliams. The latter has gotten very fat. From there we went on to Bucy, the 26th Division Headquarters, situated in a charming old Norman chÂteau with beautiful grounds, and from the terrace a superb view overlooking "Bocheland." It seemed a sacrilege to desecrate the grounds. Guns were booming in the distance, and the streets of the village were full of United States troops and transports.

For fifteen miles and more behind the lines, the French were digging entrenchments and erecting barbed wire. They are evidently taking no chances.

My original orders were not sufficiently comprehensive, so Sunday returned to Chaumont with Brewer, and here I am (May 3rd) waiting further orders before embarking on my new mission.

May 6th. The new mission was just on the point of materializing when the 'phone rang and I was told, with Colonel Keller's compliments, to "disregard my orders." I felt like one personally conducted to hell and abandoned. Dumped for some reason. It was cruel. I debated for some time and then walked down to H. Q. and saw K. All the satisfaction obtainable was that the 2nd Division was coming out of the line and that a general reorganization was pending and to sit tight for further orders, which would surely come, and I would not be forgotten. Said he was not at liberty to divulge their plans further, and then changed the subject and talked about Colonel Reno's death by suicide, saying he was his best friend and showing me a letter from his wife.

Moved our mess-hall over on the south end of the ground. Not much to do, and every one depressed and gloomy. Cadwalader and Stillman having their afternoon naps. Saw Major Flint last night at Hotel France—said John Alsop was with him. Paul Draper regaled us yesterday with his days of prosperity. It was a very wonderful story.