“After the scrap ’round Seicheprey we didn’t encore the battle much except when the Battle of Boucq started. That was one hell of a curious battle. The Boches got mad and began heavin’ shells ’way back in the rears. Boucq wasn’t too far away to be in it.

“That’s where all our headquarters was located—regimental, brigade, division, and the whole damn shootin’-match. At that time Mudgy Jones, also known as Chisel-Face or Whistlin’ Jaws, was colonel of our regiment. Let me tell you right now our regiment had a hell of a time gettin’ where it was, handicapped as we were with that man as a C. O. All he could do was walk ’round whistlin’ somethin’ that didn’t have no tune at all and find fault. Well, just to show you what kind of a gink Mudgy was, when the stuff started comin’ and breakin’ near regimental P. C. he dives down into a cellar and loses himself. The general comes over to give him hell ’bout somethin’, and he couldn’t be found. Finally some guy bribed Jones’ orderly to tell where he was. Mudgy didn’t pull any whistle stuff when the old gen. hauled him up.

“The battle of Boucq lasted ’bout four days, durin’ which the One Hundred and Fourth Infantry—hardest bunch of doughboys in this man’s army—got lined up on a hill by some French general and handed the Craw de Guerre for the whole damn outfit. Only outfit in the A. E. F. that can wear that thing as a regiment, too.

“We had a gang fight down ’round Xivray that lasted a day or so and made us lose quite a number of the fellows. Then we got pulled out of the Toul lines and loaded on another bunch of foolish-lookin’ trains. When we was loadin’—that was ’bout the last day of June or nearbouts—they handed out some wild rumor stuff ’bout us goin’ to parade in Paree on the Fourth. All the soldats believed it and a hell of a lot of second looeys—even the C. O. By the way, Davis that was with us at Seicheprey had been made a captain and put in charge of our outfit.

“The train started toward Paree and made ’bout three hundred kilos in that direction. All along the tracks and in the big towns we passed through there was gangs of girls and school-kids shoutin’ at us. Throwin’ kisses and askin’ for bisquÉs—them’s biscuits in anglay. We fired all the hardtack we had to ’em, as usual.

“That was the time we learned how to call ourselves in fransay. I kept hearin’ the French kids sayin’ somethin’ that sounded like ‘Van Seezeum’ and wondered what the hell it meant. A French Canuck up and says, ‘That’s the way they say Twenty-sixth in Frog.’ They was glad, he says, because the old Van Seezeum was on its way. Then I began gettin’ it. The kids knew who we was somehow. Some of ’em hollered, ‘Caput Boches at Seicheprey.’ Gosh! there must have been somethin’ in the papers ’bout us, the way they was talkin’ it off.

“Right when we got close enough to smell Paree—and Otto Page began swearin’ that he could see the Eiffel Tower—the trains got switched off to the right and started hell bent for election toward ChÂteau-Thierry. Noisy-le-Sec was where we got switched off, and that’s where the cussin’ started and it lasted until we got in the old guerre again up ’round Saacy and Citry.

“Damn, but we was sore—been thinkin’ ’bout that promised rest and paradin’ up and down Paree, you know, and we felt that they was rubbin’ it in, that’s all. They just hated to think that some guy was rubbin’ it in. We was National Guard Boy Scouts, some of ’em called us before the guerre. But they can take their funny names plumb to hell to-day. Like to know where this man’s army would be if it wasn’t for the National Guard.

“Jerked us out of sleep ’bout midnight and unloaded the works at a joint called La FertÉ—hiked thirteen kilofloppers to a town that I couldn’t call out loud if I wanted to. Have to think it when I want to remember anythin’ ’bout the place. They put us up in a big park. Spent the Fourth there. The villagers hung out beaucoup flags, but I couldn’t recognize ’em, though a Frenchman pointed to some and said, ‘AmÉricain.’ Had a party on the Fourth. Beaucoup van rouge. Some old champagne—and a poulet. Forgot to tell you ’bout poulets—they’re chickens—the eatin’ kind, you savvy?

“Next day we got orders to haul it up to the front or pretty near it. We blew into a big chÂteau grounds ’round early mornin’—everybody was so darn tired they cushayed right off the bat without camouflaging the stuff. A nuisance by name of Boots Jenkins, who had been made a second looey when even corporals was hard to get, was the Officer of the Day. He didn’t come to until broad daylight and a bunch of Boche planes got hummin’ overhead. Boots tried to turn out the guard—and found out that he had forgot to put a guard on at all. ‘Some guy he was.’ Then he started wakin’ everybody up. ‘Get up, every mother’s son of you, move this picket-line and camouflage the wagons. Come on, shake it up,’ and he pulled the blankets off George Woods. ‘Git the hell out o’ here—I’m cushayin’,’ bawled Woods. ‘Don’t give a damn, get up,’ commanded Jenkins. ‘Ah, take a flop for yourself, I don’t belong to your gang. I’m a naval gunner on special duty.’ That’s what Boots got on every side.

“After a long time he got the stable sergeant—some draggin’ kitchen police and old Bill Conway—wonderful crew for a detail. They moved every damn cheval we had and threw bushes over the guns and wagons. The rest of us had dragged our blankets and stuff up to the top of a hill and cushayed right on.

“The outfits hid in that big woods until it got time for us to cross the Marne and relieve the Second Division. This happened ’bout July eleventh or so. We was all set for any trick that the Boches might be willin’ to try.

“There had been beaucoup bull flyin’ ’round that Germany was makin’ a last big drive for old Paree and most likely they’d try to cut through us ’round the ChÂteau-Thierry sector—that stuff was pretty well soaked into us and guess the gang wanted to show the marines that two weeks in Belleau Woods wasn’t such big stuff after all, considerin’ the way they jumped into the battlin’ when it started. Course I ain’t disputin’ that the marines didn’t pull off good stunts down there. But you got to remember we’d been in the lines damn near six months when the noise started at ChÂteau-Thierry.”