France regard her chances of final victory as slim. And each one of those simple poilus wrung my hand, and asked me if I didn't think we would have our troops here soon. I don't believe I was ever prouder of America than at that moment; and as they pointed to a faded old banner, hanging from their smoke-blackened ceiling, in which one could barely distinguish the colors, and I showed them the little American flag, pinned to my coat---we realized that the "Bleu, blanc et rouge," and the "Red, White, and Blue," were one and the same thing.
We talked together, or rather tried to talk, for a long time after the meal was over; finally I went outdoors, for I thought Cooky, or whoever was to relieve me, might be here already. And as I walked through the trees, I thought of many things, of Europe when the war would be over, of home, and if I would ever see it again. Suddenly I stumbled, and looking down to see what had tripped me, I saw a pile of dead soldiers, mangled by shell beyond all recognition. Some had been torn in two at the waist, and of others, very little but the head and shoulders remained. But they were Frenchmen, they had given all they had for France, and they must be treated accordingly. Tomorrow morning the priest would come to get the few personal effects of each man so that he could wrap them up and send them to their respective families. Sometimes these
