miserable we were on this trip, and the only thing that kept the boys from complaining was the fact that the country was new to us and strange sights and scenes made us forget our discomfort. Still, we did not have things as bad as some of the American boys, who were compelled to travel across France in box cars.

We were all glad to stretch our legs at Langres, and after we were given a little refreshing exercise, we were loaded on motor trucks and taken to our barracks, located in a stone building formerly used as a convent.

The city of Langres is beautifully situated. It is on a hill that rises from a plateau. It is a city of great antiquity, dating from the time of the Romans. There can be no doubt but that its original location was selected because of its strategic position, as it is on the summit of a ridge and commands the situation in every direction. In mediaeval times it was a stronghold for the feudal lords and in modern times it is still of importance as a fortress. The city is surrounded by a defense wall, built hundreds of years ago, and around the outside of the wall was a moat, wide and deep. In feudal days this moat was part of the defense works and it was kept filled with water. It was dry when we visited and has been so for many years, as a moat would be but as slight obstructure in modern warfare. But it made the city well nigh impregnable in the mediaeval days before gunpowder was invented and when most fighting was of the hand to hand kind. We entered the city through an arched gate and crossed the moat on a bridge which could be drawn up in case of attack. At present the gate is always kept lowered, but it could be drawn up if necessary. It was easy to picture in the mind's eye as we looked at these relics of former days, the feudal barons of the age of chivalry, sallying forth from this ancient stronghold on their steeds to make war or to plunder and prepared to retreat behind this moat and wall where they would be safe in the event that they were opposed by superior forces. I could not but think, as I stood upon this historic ground, that we ourselves were making history and that the fight that we were then preparing to make, while less romantic than the skirmishes of the feudal barons, was vastly more important to the welfare of the world.

Situated as it is upon an eminence, a view that is beyond description is to be obtained from Langres. From the ramparts one may see the upper valley of the Marne with its checkerboard of farms of various hues; the Vosges; and on a clear day the white peak of Mont Blanc, one hundred and sixty miles distant.

In strong contrast with the way in which ancient warriors entered Langres, we were loaded onto motor trucks and taken up the steep and winding way that led to the gates of the city by means of the most modern way of transportation. Our eyes were fastened on the oddities of this strangely interesting city as we wound through the streets, some of which were narrow, others wide, past well kept parks and buildings older than most of the modern governments, and we were filled with a sort of reverence for this historic spot as we took our places in the barracks made ready for us.

CHAPTER IVToC

Nearing the Front

After we were installed in the barracks at Langres and had our personal belongings straightened out, we were given the day to ourselves. This was the first freedom that we had had since our arrival in France. The boys, of course, all went to the business section of the city, where many of them were given their first glimpse of French customs and French methods of merchandising. As I had been fortunate in getting into the business section of Brest while we were there, this was not new to me, but to most of the boys it was a novel experience. They spent their time and much of their money in the French stores, buying small articles of various kinds. One oddity of the freedom that we were given here was the fact that the American soldiers, although forbidden to buy alcoholic liquors in America, were permitted to buy them without restrictions in France, and it is only telling the plain truth to say that many of them sampled the French beers, wines and cognac.

I had an experience in a French barber shop that may be of interest, as it shows the difference between French and American barbers. The French barber does his work very rapidly, in fact so rapidly when he is shaving that the patron wonders whether or not he is going to get out of the chair uninjured. I ordered a haircut, a shave, a shampoo and a face massage. I had much difficulty at first in making my wants understood, particularly as to the manner in which I wanted my hair cut. This finally made clear, I sat in the chair and the barber went to work on me with his sharp shears. His hands moved like lightning and it seemed like no more than two minutes that he had the job done. It was the fastest hair cutting I ever witnessed and a good job, too. He then proceeded to shave me, and for speed he exceeded his already phenomenal record as a hair cutter. He put a thin lather on my face and then with a thin razor—the thinnest I ever saw—he slashed off a four days' growth with six strokes—one down the right cheek, one down the left cheek, one across the entire upper lip, one—a fancy curved stroke—across the chin, then up one side of the neck and a final stroke up the other. In less time than it takes to tell, the job was done, and it was a clean smooth shave too. But while he was slashing that razor around I was uneasy. It was my first and last experience with a French barber; thereafter, it was safety first. The massage was excellent, but what impressed me about the shampoo was the small amount of water used. Water must be costly in Langres from the way that barber conserved it, but with no more than a handful of water, he did his work well. The face waters used by French barbers are all highly perfumed, in fact, too much so for the rough Westerner. When a man leaves a barber shop he carries a sickening sweet aroma with him and his friends know where he has been when he is as much as a hundred yards away. It may be of interest to note that the shave, hair cut, shampoo and massage cost me two and a half francs, or a little less than 50 cents American money. The price of the same service in the average American shop at the present time (August, 1919) would be about $1.65.

The following day the men in our detachment were assigned to various kinds of work at Langres. I was given a motor truck to drive. It was in very poor condition and my first duty was to get it in working order. I spent three days overhauling it and had it in fair serviceable shape. But after putting all this work on it, I had the pleasure of running it only about three days, for I received orders, along with 208 others, to pack and get ready for a special course in a military school. I had only half an hour's time to get ready, but at the appointed time I was prepared to go, and with the boys chosen for the schooling, was loaded onto a motor truck and taken to Fort St. Menge, one of the numerous protecting forts around Langres. This was an old fort, apparently built many years ago. It was situated on the summit of a mountain and was surrounded by a moat, which, however, was dry. It was substantially built and exceedingly interesting. The barracks were built underground and of stone. They were sealed and were water-tight. Soil from ten to fifteen feet in depth covered these stone compartments and they were proof from the bombs of other days, but would have but feebly