parishioners in the States, who wrote back and told me of the interest and comment it caused when shown at a church social.

From the outset we were very busy. I was put on the base or Paris squad in the beginning, as most all of the new men were, temporarily, and the very first night I was sent out with a Swiss Frenchman to a depot at Aubervilliers, which was being used as a receiving hospital. There on the floor of that great building many hundreds of wounded soldiers lay mutilated and suffering. Some had their jaws blown off. Others had eyes or noses gone. I shall never forget that dreary night. There was a cold rain driving and I was soaked to the skin, but there were many human beings who suffered worse than I did for their country's sake. When I saw one man who had been hit by a German dumdum or explosive bullet, I gritted my teeth. We were kept working all night transporting those poor fellows in Ford ambulances from the railroad station to the different hospitals, as the French officers instructed. On each trip we carried three lying-down cases, or if the wounded could sit up we conveyed five. For some time thereafter this was our main work.

But after several weeks had passed, the winter began to break and with it the spring offensive opened up. I was with section two of the Ambulance, later called section Y, and a very capable man from the Middle West, was in charge as commander. This section had been stationed at Beauvais, doing local duty mainly, but occasionally working up toward the Soissons Sector and on a line directly south of Ypres, afterward being transferred to the East. The wounded, whom we carried, were little more than bundles of mud and rain-soaked, blood-stained masses of human pulp. Most of them were French soldiers, we being with the French forces, but we did have also quite a number of British Tommies and still more Belgians. I shall always think of those Belgians as such plucky fellows. No matter how badly wounded they were, as a rule when we talked with them, and spoke about getting the "Allemands" or the "Boches" or the "Kaiser" they would double up their fists and jocularly show fight by hitting him an imaginary undercut, or they would draw their open hands across their throats and say, "The Kaiser Kaput!"

At first I liked the Belgians best. One night we carried a Belgian soldier who had both legs and both arms fractured, and every time we made a move he must have suffered the tortures of hell, yet never a sound came from him. In fact their stoicism was remarkable; hardly ever was there any groaning or complaining.

But as time went on and we became better acquainted with the French disposition, through intimate contact with French individuals, we liked them better. At first, I had not cared much for the French. I am ashamed to say it now, as it was my own lack of appreciation, but when my eyes at last were opened, my regard for them became high and lasting.

One day after a terrible bombardment near S——, a blessé or wounded soldier, whom we had carried back to the hospital said, "Comrade, I love the Americans." I did not reply at once. He continued, "Do you love the French?" "Yes," I said, "I have come to love them very deeply. At first I did not know about it but now I do." He lay very still and white, and after a moment said, "Mutual understanding is the basis of love," and then he went to sleep. He never woke up.

Many a poor mangled poilu who was just about to "go West" spoke in the same strain, and I came to realize that the old love for America which LaFayette had kindled over a century before, still lurked in the heart of France. America threw off the tyrant's yoke in 1776, and France threw off the despot's chains in 1789, and thirteen years is a very small difference in ages between brothers, nationally speaking. Since then both Republics have made a lot of mistakes and rectified many of them, but let it be said both have made marvelous records in the development of democratic government and they are now working and fighting side by side, comrades in the cause of human liberty.

CHAPTER IV A UNIT IN ITS INFANCY

The story of the American Ambulance Service has been written by abler pens than mine and so I will give but a brief account of it.

When the war first began the idea of serving France through ambulance work was conceived by a few large-visioned Americans. The plant of the fine new boys' school called the "Lycée Pasteur" was turned over to these men for the ambulance headquarters. The beginnings had been small, Henry Ford having donated in 1914 ten ambulances with which the movement started. Early in the next year, however, the American Ambulance institution became attached to the French forces which were in active service. The work of the preceding months was quite essential in its way, as its errors no doubt pointed out the path to the later efficiency, and a larger number of ambulances were being accumulated from week to week. The first donation of machines made it possible for the organization at the very beginning to participate in the transport work, and the ever increasing number of cars necessitated the forming of squads in the endeavor to broaden the scope of the service.

There were at first five ambulances in each squad and these were loaned to the French forces, but because the squads were so small they were used by the French to supplement the regular government sections which were already in action behind the lines. Their chief work was that of hospital evacuation, which it was soon perceived could be performed more advantageously by the heavier ambulances of the sections which had been working at these hospitals before. But in the early spring a change was made in the organization of the American service and a new man was given charge. Through his influence the French officials gave the American Ambulance Service a trial on the firing line. A section was dispatched to the Vosges which soon gained the recognition of its commanders, who requested that it be doubled in size. When this request was complied with, the section moved to the front in Alsace, in connection with a similar French section. Very soon after another section of the same size was organized and sent to Pont-à-Mousson, connected also, as the former one had been, with a French section. During this time also a squad had been stationed at Dunkirk in northern France.

The American Field Service was at last a reality. These three sections now began to make history and demonstrated considerable usefulness to the cause. The Americans in Alsace took over the dressing station on the battle line, and soon found themselves caring for an entire region, which became famous for its baptism of fire.

The section at Pont-à-Mousson has an enviable record. When it first went to Pont-à-Mousson the French service which was already stationed there was amalgamated with it. Later on this section made the mountain dressing stations possible, which heretofore had been quite impossible. The section at Dunkirk had been engaged in caring for the wounded from air raids and from bombardments by the Germans almost twenty miles away. This section was now honored by being doubled again and given work to do at several important points along the battle line, and with the French army in Belgium.

All the sections now became of acknowledged value and in a remarkably short period their practical possibilities were recognized. Wherever possible the French sections were speedily removed and the whole work given over to the American units. No car could have been