[Illustration: William Bramwell BoothGeneral of the Salvation Army]

The War Romance of the Salvation Army

by

Evangeline Booth

Commander-in-Chief, The Salvation Army in America

and

Grace Livingston Hill

Author of "The Enchanted Barn"; "The Best Man";"Lo Michael"; "The Red Signal, " etc. 

Copyright 1919, by J. T. Lippincot Company

[Illustration: Evangeline BoothCommander-in-Chief of the Salvation Army in America]

Foreword

In presenting the narrative of some of the doings of the Salvation Armyduring the world's great conflict for liberty, I am but answering theinsistent call of a most generous and appreciative public. 

When moved to activity by the apparent need, there was never a thoughtthat our humble services would awaken the widespread admiration that hasdeveloped. In fact, we did not expect anything further than appreciativerecognition from those immediately benefited, and the knowledge that ourpeople have proved so useful is an abundant compensation for all toil andsacrifice, for _service_ is our watchword, and there is no rewardequal to that of doing the most good to the most people in the most need. When our National Armies were being gathered for overseas work, thelikelihood of a great need was self-evident, and the most logical and mostnatural thing for the Salvation Army to do was to hold itself in readinessfor action. That we were straitened in our circumstances is wellunderstood, more so by us than by anybody else. The story as told inthese pages is necessarily incomplete, for the obvious reason that thework is yet in progress. We entered France ahead of our ExpeditionaryForces, and it is my purpose to continue my people's ministries until thelast of our troops return. At the present moment the number of ourworkers overseas equals that of any day yet experienced. 

Because of the pressure that this service brings, together with theunmentioned executive cares incident to the vast work of the SalvationArmy in these United States, I felt compelled to requisition somecompetent person to aid me in the literary work associated with theproduction of a concrete story. In this I was most fortunate, for a writerof established worth and national fame in the person of Mrs. GraceLivingston Hill came to my assistance; and having for many days had theprivilege of working with her in the sifting process, gathering from themass of matter that had accumulated and which was being daily added to, with every confidence I am able to commend her patience and toil. How wellshe has done her work the book will bear its own testimony. 

This foreword would be incomplete were I to fail in acknowledging in avery definite way the lavish expressions of gratitude that have aboundedon the part of "The Boys" themselves. This is our reward, and is a verygreat encouragement to us to continue a growing and more permanent effortfor their welfare, which is comprehended in our plans for the future. Theofficial support given has been of the highest and most generouscharacter. Marshal Foch himself most kindly cabled me, and GeneralPershing has upon several occasions inspired us with commendatory words ofthe greatest worth. 

Our beloved President has been pleased to reflect the people's pleasureand his own personal gratification upon what the Salvation Army hasaccomplished with the troops, which good-will we shall ever regard as oneof our greatest honors. 

The lavish eulogy and sincere affection bestowed by the nation upon theorganization I can only account for by the simple fact that ourministering members have been in spirit and reality with the men. 

True to our first light, first teaching, and first practices, we havealways put ourselves close beside the man irrespective of whether hiscondition is fair or foul; whether his surroundings are peaceful orperilous; whether his prospects are promising or threatening. As a peoplewe have felt that to be of true service to others we must be close enoughto them to lift part of their load and thus carry out that grandinjunction of the Apostle Paul, "Bear ye one another's burdens and sofulfill the law of Christ. "

The Salvation Army upon the battlefields of France has but worked alongthe same lines as in the great cities of the nations. We are, with ourevery gift to serve, close up to those in need; and so, as Lieut. -ColonelRoosevelt put it, "Whatever the lot of the men, the Salvation Army isfound with them. "

We never permit any superiority of position, or breeding, or even grace tomake a gap between us and any who may be less fortunate. To help another, you must be near enough to catch the heart-beat. And so a large measure ofour success in the war is accounted for by the fact that we have been withthem. With a hundred thousand Salvationists on all fronts, and tens andtens of thousands of Salvationists at their ministering posts in thehomelands as well as overseas, from the time that each of the Alliedcountries entered the war the Salvation Army has been with the fighting-men. 

With them in the thatched cottage on the hillside, and in the humbledwelling in the great towns of the homelands, when they faced the greatordeal of wishing good-bye to mothers and fathers and wives and children. 

With them in the blood-soaked furrows of old fields; with them in thedesolation of No Man's Land; and with them amid the indescribable miseriesand gory horrors of the battlefield. With them with the sweetest ministry, trained in the art of service, white-souled, brave, tender-hearted men andwomen could render. 

[Evangeline Booth]

NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS SALVATION ARMY, NEW YORK CITY. 

April, 1919. 

From the Commander's Own Pen

The war is over. The world's greatest tragedy is arrested. The awful pullat men's heart-strings relaxed. The inhuman monster that leapt out of thedarkness and laid blood-hands upon every home of a peace-blest earth hasbeen overthrown. Autocracy and diabolical tyranny lie defeated and crushedbehind the long rows of white crosses that stand like sign-posts pointingheavenward, all the way from the English Channel to the Adriatic, linkingthe two by an inseverable chain. 

While the nations were in the throes of the conflict, I was constrained tospeak and write of the Salvation Army's activities in the frightfulstruggle. Now that all is over and I reflect upon the price the nationshave paid I realize much hesitancy in so doing. 

When I think of England-where almost every man you meet is but a piece ofa man! France--one great graveyard! Its towns and cities a wilderness ofwaste! The allied countries--Italy, and deathless little Belgium, andSerbia--well-nigh exterminated in the desperate, gory struggle! When Ithink upon it--the price America has paid! The price her heroic sons havepaid! They that come down the gangways of the returning boats on crutches!They that are carried down on stretchers! They that sail into New YorkHarbor, young and fair, but never again to see the Statue of Liberty! Theprice that dear mothers and fathers have paid! The price that the tens ofthousands of little children have paid! The price they that sleep in thelands they made free have paid! When I think upon all this, it is with nolittle reluctance that I now write of the small part taken by theSalvation Army in the world's titanic sacrifice for liberty, but whichpart we shall ever regard as our life's crowning honor. 

Expressions of surprise from officers of all ranks as well as the privatesoldier have vied with those of gratitude concerning the efficiency ofthis service, but no thought of having accomplished any achievement higherthan their simplest duty is entertained by the Salvationists themselves;for uniformly they feel that they have but striven to measure up to thehigh standards of service maintained by the Salvation Army, whichstandards ask of its officers all over the world that no effort shall beleft unprosecuted, no sacrifice unrendered, which will help to meet the_need at their door_. 

And it is such high standards of devoted service to our fellow, linkedwith the practical nature of the movement's operations, the deeplyreligious character of its members, its intelligent system of government, uniting, and thus augmenting, all its activities; with the immenseadvantage of the military training provided by the organization, that giveto its officers a potency and adaptability that have for the greaterperiod of our brief lifetime made us an influential factor in seasons ofcivic and national disaster. 

When that beautiful city of the Golden Gate, San Francisco, was laid lowby earthquake and fire, the Salvationists were the first upon the groundwith blankets, and clothes, and food, gathering frightened littlechildren, looking after old age, and rescuing many from the burning andfalling buildings. 

At the time of the wild rush to the Klondike, the Salvation Army was, withits sweet, pure women--the only women amidst tens of thousands of men--upon the mountain-side of the Chilcoot Pass saving the lives of the gold-seekers, and telling those shattered by disappointment of treasure that"doth not perish. "

At the time of the Jamestown, the Galveston, and the Dayton floods theSalvation Army officer, with his boat laden with sandwiches and warmwraps, was the first upon the rising waters, ministering to marooned andstarving families gathered upon the housetops. 

In the direful disaster that swept over the beautiful city of Halifax, theMayor of that city stated: "I do not know what I should have done thefirst two or three days following the explosion, when everyone was panic-stricken without the ready, intelligent, and unbroken day-and-nightefforts of the Salvation Army. "

On numerous other similar occasions we have relieved distress and sorrowby our almost instantaneous service. Hence when our honored Presidentdecided that our National Emblem, heralder of the inalienable rights ofman, should cross the seas and wave for the freedom of the peoples of theearth, automatically the Salvation Army moved with it, and our officerspassed to the varying posts of helpfulness which the emergency demanded. 

Now on all sides I am confronted with the question: _What is the secretof the Salvation Army's success in the war?_

Permit me to suggests three reasons which, in my judgment, account for it:

First, when the war-bolt fell, when the clarion call sounded, it found_the Salvation Army ready!_

Ready not only with our material machinery, but with that precious pieceof human mechanism which is indispensable to all great and highachievement--the right calibre of man, and the right calibre of woman. Menand women equipped by a careful training for the work they would have todo. 

We were not many in number, I admit. In France our numbers have beenregrettably few. But this is because I have felt it was better to fallshort in quantity than to run the risk in falling short in quality. Quality is its own multiplication table. Quality without quantity willspread, whereas quantity without quality will shrink. Therefore, I wouldnot send any officers to France except such as had been fully equipped inour training schools. 

Few have even a remote idea of the extensive training given to allSalvation Army officers by our military system of education, covering allthe tactics of that particular warfare to which they have consecratedtheir lives--_the service of humanity_. 

We have in the Salvation Army thirty-nine Training Schools in which ourown men and women, both for our missionary and home fields, receive anintelligent tuition and practical training in the minutest details oftheir service. They are trained in the finest and most intricate of allthe arts, the art of dealing ably with human life. 

It is a wonderful art which transfigures a sheet of cold grey canvas intoa throbbing vitality, and on its inanimate spread visualizes a livingpicture from which one feels they can never turn their eyes away. 

It is a wonderful art which takes a rugged, knotted block of marble, standing upon a coarse wooden bench, and cuts out of its uncomelycrudeness--as I saw it done--the face of my father, with its everyfeature illumined with prophetic light, so true to life that I felt thatto my touch it surely must respond. 

But even such arts as these crumble; they are as dust under our feetcompared with that much greater art, _the art of dealing ably with humanlife in all its varying conditions and phases_. 

It is in this art that we seek by a most careful culture and training toperfect our officers. 

They are trained in those expert measures which enable them to handlesatisfactorily those that cannot handle themselves, those that have losttheir grip on things, and that if unaided go down under the high, roughtides. Trained to meet emergencies of every character--to leap into thebreach, to span the gulf, and to do it without waiting to be told_how_. 

Trained to press at every cost for the desired and decided-upon end. 

Trained to obey orders willingly, and gladly, and wholly--not in part. 

Trained to give no quarter to the enemy, no matter what the character, norin what form he may present himself, and to never consider what personaladvantage may be derived. 

Trained in the art of the winsome, attractive coquetries of the round, brown doughnut and all its kindred. 

Trained, if needs be, to seal their services with their life's blood. 

One of our women officers, on being told by the colonel of the regimentshe would be killed if she persisted in serving her doughnuts and cocoa tothe men while under heavy fire, and that she must get back to safety, replied: "Colonel, we can die with the men, but we cannot leave them. "

When, therefore, I gathered the little companies together for their lastcharge before they sailed for France, I would tell them that while I wasunable to arm them with many of the advantages of the more wealthydenominations; that while I could give them only a very few assistantsowing to the great demand upon our forces; and that while I could promisethem nothing beyond their bare expenses, yet I knew that without fear Icould rely upon them for an unsurpassed devotion to the God-inspiredstandards of the emblem of this, the world's greatest Republic, the Starsand Stripes, now in the van for the freedom of the peoples of the earth. That I could rely upon them for unsurpassed devotion to the brave men wholaid their lives upon the altar of their country's protection, and that Icould rely upon them for an unsurpassed devotion to that other banner, theBanner of Calvary, the significance of which has not changed in nineteencenturies, and by the standards of which, alone, all the world's wrongscan be redressed, and by the standards of which alone men can be liberatedfrom all their bondage. And they have not failed. 

A further reason for the success of the Salvation Army in the war is, _it found us accustomed to hardship_. 

We are a people who have thrived on adversity. Opposition, persecution, privation, abuse, hunger, cold and want were with us at the starting-post, and have journeyed with us all along the course. 

We went to the battlefields _no strangers to suffering_. The bitingcold winds that swept the fields of Flanders were not the first to lashour faces. The sunless cellars, with their mouldy walls and water-seepedfloors, where our women sought refuge from shell-fire through the hours ofthe night, contributed no new or untried experience. In such cellars asthese, in their home cities, under the flicker of a tallow candle, theyhave ministered to the sick and comforted the dying. 

Wet feet, lack of deep, being often without food, finding things differentfrom what we had planned, hoped and expected, were frequent experienceswith us. All such things we Salvationists encounter in our daily toils forothers amid the indescribable miseries and inestimable sorrows, the sinsand the tragedies of the underworlds of our great cities--the_underneath_ of those great cities which upon the surface thunderwith enterprise and glitter with brilliance. 

We are not easily affrighted by frowns of fortune. We do not change ourcourse because of contrary currents, nor put into harbor because of head-winds. Almost all our progress has been made in the teeth of the storm. Wehave always had to "tack, " but as it is "the set of the sails, and not thegales" that decides the ports we reach, the competency of our seamanshipis determined by the fact that we "get there. "

Our service in France was not, therefore, an experiment, but an organized, tested, and proved system. We were enacting no new rôle. We were allthrough the Boer War. Our officers were with the besieged troops inMafeking and Ladysmith. They were with Lord Kitchener in his victoriousmarch through Africa. It was this grand soldier who afterwards wrote to myfather, General William Booth, the Founder of our movement, saying: "Yourmen have given us an example both of how to live as good soldiers and howto die as heroes. " And so it was quite natural that our men and women, with that fearlessness which characterizes our members, should take uppositions under fire in France. 

In fact, our officers would have considered themselves unfaithful toSalvation Army traditions and history, and untrue to those who had gonebefore, if they had deserted any post, or shirked any duty, becausecloaked with the shadows of death. 

This explains why their dear forms loomed up in the fog and the rain, inthe hours of the night, on the roads, under shell fire, serving coffee anddoughnuts. 

This is how it was they were with them on the long dreary marches, with asmile and a song and a word of cheer. 

This is how it is the Salvation Army has no "closing hours. " "Taps" soundfor us _when the need is relieved_. 

Three of our women officers in the Toul Sector had slept for three weeksin a hay-stack, in an open field, to be near the men of an ammunitiontrain taking supplies to the front under cover of darkness. The boys hadwatched their continued, devoted service for them--the many nights withoutsleep--and noticing the shabby uniform of the little officer in charge, collected among themselves 1600 francs, and offered it to her for a newone, and some other comforts, the spokesman saying: "This is just to showyou how grateful we are to you. " The officer was deeply touched, but toldthem she could not think of accepting it for herself. "I am quiteaccustomed to hard toils, " she said. "I have only done what all mycomrades are doing--my duty, " and offered to compromise by putting themoney into a general fund for the benefit of all--to buy more doughnutsand more coffee for the boys. 

Salvation Army teaching and practice is: Choose your purpose, then setyour face as flint toward that purpose, permitting no enemy that canoppose, and no sacrifice that can be asked, to turn you from it. 

Again, a reason for our success in the war is, _our practicalreligion_. 

That is, our religion is _practicable_. Or, I would rather say, ourChristianity is practicable. Few realize this as the secret of oursuccess, and some who do realize it will not admit it, but this is what itreally is. 

We _do_ worship; both in spirit and form, in public and in private. We rely upon prayer as the only line of communication between the creatureand his Creator, the only wing upon which the soul's requirements andhungerings can be wafted to the Fount of all spiritual supply. Through ourstreet, as well as our indoor meetings, perhaps oftener than any otherpeople, we come to the masses with the divine benediction of prayer; andit would be difficult to find the Salvationist's home that does not regardthe family altar as its most precious and priceless treasure. 

We do preach. We preach God the Creator of earth and heaven, unerring inHis wisdom, infinite in His love and omnipotent in His power. We preachJesus Christ, God's only begotten Son, dying on Calvary for a world'stransgressions, able to save to the uttermost "all those who come unto Godby Him. " We preach God the Holy Ghost, sanctifier and comforter of thesouls of men, making white the life, and kindling lights in every darklanding-place. We preach the Bible, authentic in its statements, immaculate in its teaching, and glorious in its promises. We preach grace, limitless grace, grace enough for all men, and grace enough for each. Wepreach Hell, the irrevocable doom of the soul that rejects the Saviour. Wepreach Heaven, the home of the righteous, the reward of the good, thecrowning of them that endure to the end. 

Even as we preach, so we practice Christianity. We reduce theory toaction. We apply faith to deeds. We confess and present Jesus Christ inthings that can be done. It is this that has carried our flag into sixty-three countries and colonies, and despite the bitterest opposition hasgiven us the financial support of twenty-one national governments. It isthis that has brought us up from a little handful of humble workers to anorganization with 21, 000 officers and workers, preaching the gospel inthirty-nine tongues. It is this that has multiplied the one bandsman and adespised big drum to an army of 27, 000 musicians, and it is this-ourpractice of religion-that has placed _Christ in deeds_. 

Arthur E. Copping gives as the reason for the movement's success-"thesimple, thorough-going, uncompromising, seven-days-a-week character ofits Christianity. " It is this every-day-use religion which has made us ofinfinite service in the places of toil, breakage, and suffering; thisevery-day-use religion which has made UB the only resource for thousandsin misery and vice; this every-day-use religion which has insured oursuccess to an extent that has induced civic authorities, Judges, Mayors, Governors, and even National Governments-such as India with its CriminalTribes-to turn to us with the problems of the poor and the wicked. 

While the Salvationist is not of the generally understood ascetic ormonastic type, yet his spirit and deeds are of the very essence ofsaintliness. 

As man has arrested the lazy cloud sleeping on the brow of the hill, andhas brought it down to enlighten our darkness, to carry our mail-bags, tohaul our luggage, and to flash our messages, so, I would say with allreverence, that the Salvation Army in a very particular way has againbrought down Jesus Christ from the high, high thrones, golden pathways, and wing-spread angels of Glory, to the common mud walks of earth, and haspresented Him again in the flesh to a storm-torn world, touching andhealing the wounds, the bruises, and the bleeding sores of humanity. 

That was a wonderful sermon Christ preached on the Mount, but was it morewonderful than the ministry of the wounded man fallen by the roadside, orthe drying of the tears from the pale, worn face of the widow of Nain? Ormore wonderful than when He said, Let them come--let them come--mothersand the little children--and blessed them?

It has only been this same Christ, _this Christ in deeds_, when ourwomen have washed the blood from the faces of the wounded, and taken thecaked mud from their feet; when under fire, through the hours of thenight, they have made the doughnuts; when instead of sleeping they havewritten the letters home to soldiers' loved ones, when they have liftedthe heavy pails of water and struggled with them over the shell-wreckedroads that the dying soldiers might drink; when they have sewn the tornuniforms; when they have strewn with the first spring flowers the gravesof those who died for liberty. Only _Christ in deeds_ when our menwent unarmed into the horrors of the Argonne Forest to gather the dyingboys in their arms and to comfort them with love, humam and divine. 

That valiant champion of justice and truth; that faithful, able andbrilliant defender of American standards, the late Honorable TheodoreRoosevelt, told me personally a few days before he went into the hospitalthat his son wrote him of how our officer, fifty-three years of age, despite his orders, went unarmed over the top, in the whirl-wind of thecharge, amidst the shriek of shell and tear of shrapnel, and picked up theAmerican boy left for dead in No Man's Land, carrying him on hie back overthe shell-torn fields to safety. 

It is this _Christ in deeds_ that has made the doughnut to take theplace of the "cup of cold water" given in His name. It is this _Christin deeds_ that has brought from our humble ranks the modern FlorenceNightingales and taken to the gory horrors of the battlefields the white, uplifting influences of pure womanhood. It is this _Christ in deeds_that made Sir Arthur Stanley say, when thanking our General for $10, 000donated for more ambulances: "I thank you for the money, but much more forthe men; they are quite the best in our service. "

It is this Christ who has given to our humblest service a sheen-somethingof a glory-which the troops have caught, and which will make these simpledeeds to hold tenaciously to history, and to outlive the effacing fingersof time-even to defy the very dissolution of death. 

As Premier Clemenceau said: "We must love. We must believe. This is thesecret of life. If we fail to learn this lesson, we exist without living:we die in ignorance of the reality of life. "

A senator, after several months spent in France, stated: "It is my opinionthat the secret of the success of this organization is their completeabandonment to their cause, _the service of the man_. "

Of the many beautiful tributes paid to us by a most gracious public, andby the noblest-hearted and most kindly and gallant army that ever stood upin uniform, perhaps the most correct is this: _Complete abandonment tothe service of the man_. 

This, in large measure, is the cause of our success all over the world. 

When you come to think of it, the Salvation Army is a remarkablearrangement. It is remarkable in its construction. It is a great empire. An empire geographically unlike any other. It is an empire without afrontier. It is an empire made up of geographical fragments, parted fromeach other by vast stretches of railroad and immense sweeps of sea. It isan empire composed of a tangle of races, tongues, and colors, of types ofcivilization and enlightened barbarism such as never before in all humanhistory gathered together under one flag. 

It is an army, with its titles rambling into all languages, a soldieryspreading over all lands, a banner upon which the sun never goes down-withits head in the heart of a cluster of islands set in the grey, wind-blownNorthern seas, while its territories are scattered over every sea andunder every sky. 

The world has wondered what has been the controlling force holding thisstrange empire together. What is the electro-magnetism governing itsfurthest atom as though it were at your elbow? What is the magic sceptrethat compels this diversity of peoples to act as one man? What is themaster passion uniting these multifarious pulsations into one heart-beat?

Has it been a sworn-to signature attached to bond or paper? No; these canall too readily be designated "scraps" and be rent in twain. Has it beenself-interest and worldly fame? No, for all selfish gain has had to besacrificed upon the threshold of the contract. Has it been the bond ofkinship, or blood, or speech? No, for under this banner the British masterhas become the servant of the Hindoo, and the American has gone to laydown his life upon the veldts of Africa. Has it been the bond of thatalmost supernatural force, glorious patriotism? No, not even this, forwhile we "know no man after the flesh, " we recognize our brother in allthe families of the earth, and our General infused into the breasts of hisfollowers the sacred conviction that the Salvationist's country is theworld. 

What was it? What is it? Those ties created by a spiritual ideal. Our lovefor God demonstrated by our sacrifice for man. 

My father, in a private audience with the late King Edward, said: "YourMajesty, some men's passion is gold; some men's passion is art; some men'spassion IB fame; my passion is man!"

This was in our Founder's breast the white flame which ignited like sparksin the hearts of all his followers. 

 _Man is our life's passion. _

It is for man we have laid our lives upon the altar. It is for man we haveentered into a contract with our God which signs away our claim to any andall selfish ends. It is for man we have sworn to our own hurt, and--my Godthou knowest-when the hurt came, hard and hot and fast, it was for man weheld tenaciously to the bargain. 

After the torpedoing of the _Aboukir_ two sailors found themselvesclinging to a spar which was not sufficiently buoyant to keep them bothafloat. Harry, a Salvationist, grasped the situation and said to his mate:"Tom, for me to die will mean to go home to mother. I don't think it'squite the same for you, so you hold to the spar and I will go down; butpromise me if you are picked up you will make my God your God and mypeople your people. " Tom was rescued and told to a weeping audience in aSalvation Army hall the act of self-sacrifice which had saved his life, and testified to keeping his promise to the boy who had died for him. 

When the _Empress of Ireland_ went down with a hundred and thirtySalvation Army officers on board, one hundred and nine officers weredrowned, and not one body that was picked up had on a life-belt. The fewsurvivors told how the Salvationists, finding there were not enough life-preservers for all, took off their own belts and strapped them upon evenstrong men, saying, "I can die better than you can;" and from the deck ofthat sinking boat they flung their battle-cry around the world--_Others!_

_Man!_ Sometimes I think God has given us special eyesight with whichto look upon him, We look through the exterior, look through the shell, look through the coat, and find the man. We look through the ofttimesrepulsive wrappings, through the dark, objectionable coating collectedupon the downward travel of misspent years, through the artificial veneerof empty seeming-through to the _man_. 

He that was made after God's image. 

He that is greater than firmaments, greater than suns, greater thanworlds. 

Man, for whom worlds were created, for whom Heavens were canopied, forwhom suns were set ablaze. He in whose being there gleams that immortalspark we call the soul. And when this war came, it was natural for us tolook to the man-the man under the shabby clothes, enlisting in the greatarmies of freedom; the man going down the street under the spick and spanuniform; the man behind the gun, standing in the jaws of death hurlingback world autocracy; the man, the son of liberty, discharging hisobligations to them that are bound; the man, each one of them, although soyoung, who when the fates of the world swung in the balances proved to be_the man of the hour;_ the man, each one of them, fighting not onlyfor today but for tomorrow, and deciding the world's future; the man whogladly died that freedom might not be dead; the man dear to a hundredmillion throbbing hearts; the man God loved so much that to save him Hegave His only Son to the unparalleled sacrifice of Calvary, with itsmeasureless ocean of torment heaving up against His Heart in one foaming, wrathful, omnipotent surge. 

Wherein is price? What constitutes cost, when the question is _THEMAN_?

Preface by the Writer

I wish I could give you a picture of Commander Evangeline Booth as I sawher first, who has been the Source, the Inspiration, the Guide of thisstory. 

I went to the first conference about this book in curiosity and somedoubt, not knowing whether it was my work; not altogether sure whether Icared to attempt it. She took my hand and spoke to me. I looked in herface and saw the shining glory of her great spirit through thosewonderful, beautiful, wise, keen eyes, and all doubts vanished. I studiedthe sincerity and beauty of her vivid face as we talked together, andheard the thrilling tale she was giving me to tell because she could nottake the time from living it to write it, and I trembled lest she wouldnot find me worthy for so great a task. I knew that I was being honoredbeyond women to have been selected as an instrument through whom the greatstory of the Salvation Army in the War might go forth to the world. That Iwanted to do it more than any work that had ever come to my hand, I wascertain at once; and that my whole soul was enmeshed in the wonder of it. It gripped me from the start. I was over-joyed to find that we were inabsolute sympathy from the first. 

One sentence from that earliest talk we had together stands clear in mymemory, and it has perhaps unconsciously shaped the theme which I hopewill be found running through all the book:

"Our people, " said she, flinging out her hands in a lovely embracingmovement, as if she saw before her at that moment those devoted workers ofhers who follow where she leads unquestioningly, and stay not for fire orfoe, or weariness, or peril of any sort:

"Our people know that Christ is a living presence, that they can reach outand feel He is near: that is why they can live so splendidly and die soheroically!"

As she spoke a light shone in her face that reminded me of the light thatwe read was on Moses' face after he had spent those days in the mountainwith God; and somewhere back in my soul something was repeating the words:"And they took knowledge of them that they had been with Jesus. "

That seems to me to be the whole secret of the wonderful lives andwonderful work of the Salvation Army. They have become acquainted withJesus Christ, whom to know is life eternal; they feel His presenceconstantly with them and they live their lives "as seeing Him who isinvisible. " They are a living miracle for the confounding of all who doubtthat there is a God whom mortals may know face to face while they are yetupon the earth. 

The one thing that these people seem to feel is really worth while isbringing other people to know their Christ. All other things in life aremerely subservient to this, or tributary to it. All their education, culture and refinement, their amazing organization, their rare businessability, are just so many tools that they use for the uplift of others. Infact, the word "OTHERS" appears here and there, printed on small whitecards and tacked up over a desk, or in a hallway near the elevator, anywhere, everywhere all over the great building of the New YorkHeadquarters, a quiet, unobtrusive, yet startling reminder of a world ofreal things in the midst of the busy rush of life. 

Yet they do not obtrude their religion. Rather it is a secret joy thatshines unaware through their eyes, and seems to flood their whole beingwith happiness so that others can but see. It is there, ready, when thetime comes to give comfort, or advice, or to tell the message of thegospel in clear ringing sentences in one of their meetings; but it speaksas well through a smile, or a ripple of song, or a bright funny story, orsomething good to eat when one is hungry, as it does through actualpreaching. It is the living Christ, as if He were on earth again living inthem. And when one comes to know them well one knows that He is!

"Go straight for the salvation of souls: never rest satisfied unless thisend is achieved!" is part of the commission that the Commander gives toher envoys. It is worth while stopping to think what would be the effecton the world if every one who has named the name of Christ should acceptthat commission and go forth to fulfill it. 

And you who have been accustomed to drop your pennies in the tambourine ofthe Salvation Army lassies at the street corners, and look upon her as arepresentative of a lower class who are doing good "in their way, " prepareto realize that you have made a mistake. The Salvation Army is not anorganization composed of a lot of ignorant, illiterate, reformed criminalspicked out of the slums. There may be among them many of that class who bythe army's efforts have been saved from a life of sin and shame, andlifted up to be useful citizens; but great numbers of them, the leadersand officers, are refined, educated men and women who have put Christ andHis Kingdom first in their hearts and lives. Their young people willcompare in every way with the best of the young people of any of ourreligious denominations. 

After the privilege of close association with them for some time I havecome to feel that the most noticeable and lovely thing about the girls isthe way they wear their womanhood, as if it were a flower, or a rarejewel. One of these girls, who, by the way, had been nine months inFrance, all of it under shell fire, said to me:

"I used to wish I had been born a boy, they are not hampered so much aswomen are; but after I went to France and saw what a good woman meant tothose boys in the trenches I changed my mind, and I'm glad I was born awoman. It means a great deal to be a woman. "

And so there is no coquetry about these girls, no little personal vanitysuch as girls who are thinking of themselves often have. They take greatcare to be neat and sweet and serviceable, but as they are not thinking ofthemselves, but only how they may serve, they are blest with thatloveliest of all adorning, a meek and quiet spirit and a joy of living andcontent that only forgetfulness of self and communion with Jesus Christcan bring. 

I feel as if I would like to thank every one of them, men and women andyoung girls, who have so kindly and generously and wholeheartedly given meof their time and experiences and put at my disposal their correspondenceto enrich this story, and have helped me to go over the ground of thegreat American drives in the war and see what they saw, hear what theyheard, and feel as they felt. It has been one of the greatest experiencesof my life. 

And she, their God-given leader, that wonderful woman whose wise handguides every detail of this marvellous organization in America, and whosewell furnished mind is ever thinking out new ways to serve her Master, Christ; what shall I say of her whom I have come to know and love so well?

Her exceptional ability as a public speaker is of the widest fame, whilecomparatively few, beyond those of her most trusted Officers, are broughtinto admiring touch with her brilliant executive powers. All these, however, unite in most unstinted praise and declare that functioning inthis sphere, the Commander even excels her platform triumphs. But one mustknow her well and watch her every day to understand her depth of insightinto character, her wideness of vision, her skill of making adversecircumstances serve her ends. Born with an innate genius for leadership, swallowed up in her work, wholly consecrated to God and His service, shelooks upon men, as it were, with the eyes of the God she loves, and seesthe best in everybody. She sees their faults also, but she sees the good, and is able to take that good and put it to account, while helping themout of their faults. Those whom she has so helped would kiss the hem ofher garment as she passes. It is easy to see why she is a leader of men. It is easy to see who has made the Army here in America. It is easy to seewho has inspired the brave men and wonderful women who went to France andlabored. 

She would not have me say these things of her, for she is humble, as sucha great leader should be, knowing all her gifts and attainments to be butthe glory of her Lord; and this is her book. Only in this chapter can Ispeak and say what I will, for it is not my book. But here, too, I waivemy privilege and bow to my Commander. 

[Grace Livingston Hill]

Contents

 I. The Story II. The Gondrecourt Area III. The Toul Sector IV. The Montdidier Sector V. The Toul Sector Again VI. The Baccarat Sector VII. The Chateau-Thierry-Soissons DriveVIII. The Saint Mihiel Drive IX. The Argonne Drive X. The Armistice XI. Homecoming XII. Letters of Appreciation

Illustrations

General Bramwell Booth. Commander Evangeline Booth. Lieutenant Colonel William S. Barker. Introduced to French Rain and French Mud. She Called the Little Company of Workers Together and Gave Them a Charge. The Lassie Who Fried the First Doughnut in France. "Tin Hat for a Halo! Ah! She Wears It Well!". The Patient Officers Who Were Seeing to All These Details Worked Almost Day and Night. Here During the Day They Worked in Dugouts Far Below the Shell-tortured Earth. They Came To Get Their Coats Mended and Their Buttons Sewed On. The Entrance to the Old Wine Cellar in Mandres. The Salvation Army Was Told that Ansauville Was Too Far Front for Any Women To Be Allowed To Go. L'Hermitage, Nestled in the Heart of a Deep Woods. L'Hermitage, Inside the Tent. "Ma". They Had a Pie-baking Contest in Gondrecourt One Day. A Letter of Inspiration from the Commander. The Salvation Army Boy Truck Driver. The Centuries-old Gray Cemetery in Treveray. Colonel Barker Placing the Commander's Flowers on Lieutenant Quentin Roosevelt's Grave. The Salvation Army Boy Who Drove the Famous Doughnut Truck. Bullionville, Promptly Dubbed by the American Boy "Souptown". Here They Found a Whole Little Village of German Dugouts. The Girls Who Came Down to Help in the St. Mihiel Drive. The Wrecked House in Neuvilly Where the Lassies Went to Sleep in the Cellar. The Wrecked Church in Neuvilly Where the Memorable Meeting Was Held. Right in the Midst of the Busy Hurrying Throng of Union Square. "Smiling Billy". Thomas Estill. The Hut at Camp Lewis. 

The War Romance of the Salvation Army

I. 

The Story

Into the heavy shadows that swathe the feet of the tall buildings in WestFourteenth Street, New York, late in the evening there slipped a darkform. It was so carefully wrapped in a black cloak that it was difficultto tell among the other shadows whether it was man or woman, andimmediately it became a part of the darkness that hovered close to theentrances along the way. It slid almost imperceptibly from shadow toshadow until it crouched flatly against the wall by the steps of an opendoor out of which streamed a wide band of light that flung itself acrossthe pavement. 

Down the street came two girls in poke bonnets and hurried in at the opendoor. The figure drew back and was motionless as they passed, then with aswift furtive glance in either direction a head came cautiously out fromthe shadow and darted a look after the two lassies, watched till they wereout of sight, and a form slid into the doorway, winding about the turninglike a serpent, as if the way were well planned, and slipped out of sightin a dark corner under the stairway. 

Half an hour or perhaps an hour passed, and one or two hurrying forms camein at the door and sped up the stairs from some errand of mercy; then thenight watchman came and fastened the door and went away again, outsomewhere through a back room. 

The interloper was instantly on the alert, darting out of its hidingplace, and slipping noiselessly up the stairs as quietly as the shadow itimitated; pausing to listen with anxious mien, stepping as a cloud mighthave stepped with no creak of stairway or sound of going at all. 

Up, up, up and up again, it darted, till it came to the very top, pausingto look sharply at a gleam of light under a door of some student not yetasleep. 

From under the dark cloak slid a hand with something in it. Silently itworked, swiftly, pouring a few drops here, a few drops there, of somecolorless, odorless matter, smearing a spot on the stair railing, anotheracross from it on the wall, a little on the floor beyond, a touch on thewindow seat at the end of the hall, some more on down the stairs. 

On rubbered feet the fiend crept down; halting, listening, ever workingrapidly, from floor to floor and back to the entrance way again. At lastwith a cautious glance around, a pause to rub a match skilfully over thewoolen cloak, and to light a fuse in a hidden corner, he vanished out uponthe street like the passing of a wraith, and was gone in the darkness. 

Down in the dark corner the little spark brooded and smouldered. Thewatchman passed that way but it gave no sign. All was still in the greatbuilding, as the smouldering spark crept on and on over its little threadof existence to the climax. 

But suddenly, it sprang to life! A flame leaped up like a great tonguelicking its lips before the feast it was about to devour; and then itsprang as if it were human, to another spot not far away; and then toanother, and on, and on up the stair rail, across to the wall, leaping, roaring, almost shouting as if in fiendish glee. It flew to the top of thehouse and down again in a leap and the whole building was enveloped in asheet of flame!

Some one gave the cry of FIRE! The night watchman darted to his box andsent in the alarm. Frightened girls in night attire crowded to their doorsand gasping fell back for an instant in horror; then bravely obedient totheir training dashed forth into the flame. Young men on other floorswithout a thought for themselves dropped into order automatically andworked like madmen to save everyone. The fire engines throbbed up almostimmediately, but the building was doomed from the start and went liketinder. Only the fire drill in which they had constant almost dailypractice saved those brave girls and boys from an awful death. Out uponthe fire escapes in the bitter winter wind the girls crept down to safety, and one by one the young men followed. The young man who was fire sergeantcounted his men and found them all present but one cadet. He darted backto find him, and that moment with a last roar of triumph the flames gave afinal leap and the building collapsed, burying in a fiery grave two fineyoung heroes. Afterward they said the building had been "smeared" or itnever could have gone in a breath as it did. The miracle was that no morelives were lost. 

So that was how the burning of the Salvation Army Training Schooloccurred. 

The significant fact in the affair was that there had been sleeping inthat building directly over the place where the fire started several ofthe lassies who were to sail for France in a day or two with the largestparty of war workers that had yet been sent out. Their trunks were packed, and they were all ready to go. The object was all too evident. 

There was also proof that the intention had been to destroy as well thegreat fireproof Salvation Army National Headquarters building adjoiningthe Training School. 

A few days later a detective taking lunch in a small German restaurant ona side street overheard a conversation:

"Well, if we can't burn them out we'll blow up the building, and get thatdamn Commander, anyhow!"

Yet when this was told her the Commander declined the bodyguard offeredher by the Civic Authorities, to go with her even to her country home andprotect her while the war lasted! She is naturally a soldier. 

The Commander had stayed late at the Headquarters one evening to finishsome important bit of work, and had given orders that she should not beinterrupted. The great building was almost empty save for the nightwatchman, the elevator man, and one or two others. 

She was hard at work when her secretary appeared with an air of reluctanceto tell her that the elevator man said there were three ladies waitingdownstairs to see her on some very important business. He had told themthat she could not be disturbed but they insisted that they must see her, that she would wish it if she knew their business. He had come up to findout what he should answer them. 

The Commander said she knew nothing about them and could not beinterrupted now. They must be told to come again the next day. 

The elevator man returned in a few minutes to say that the ladiesinsisted, and said they had a great gift for the Salvation Army, but mustsee the Commander at once and alone or the gift would be lost. 

Quickly interested the Commander gave orders that they should be broughtup to her office, but just as they were about to enter, the secretary camein again with great excitement, begging that she would not see thevisitors, as one of the men from downstairs had 'phoned up to her that hedid not like the appearance of the strangers; they seemed to be trying totalk in high strained voices, and they had very large feet. Maybe theywere not women at all. 

The Commander laughed at the idea, but finally yielded when another of herstaff entered and begged her not to see strangers alone so late at night;and the callers were informed that they would have to return in themorning if they wished an interview. 

Immediately they became anything but ladylike in their manner, declaringthat the Salvation Army did not deserve a gift and should have nothingfrom them. The elevator man's suspicions were aroused. The ladies wereattired in long automobile cloaks, and close caps with large veils, and hestudied them carefully as he carried them down to the street floor oncemore, following them to the outer door. He was surprised to find that noautomobile awaited them outside. As they turned to walk down the street, he was sure he caught a glimpse of a trouser leg from beneath one of thelong cloaks, and with a stride he covered the space between the door andhis elevator where was a telephone, and called up the police station. In afew moments more the three "ladies" found themselves in custody, andproved to be three men well armed. 

But when the Commander was told the truth about them she surprisinglysaid: "I'm sorry I didn't see them. I'm sure they would have done me noharm and I might have done them some good. "

But if she is courageous, she is also wise as a serpent, and knows when tokeep her own counsel. 

During the early days of the war when there were many important matters tobe decided and the Commander was needed everywhere, she came straight froma conference in Washington to a large hotel in one of the great westerncities where she had an appointment to speak that night. At the revolvingdoor of the hotel stood a portly servitor in house uniform who was mostkind and noticeably attentive to her whenever she entered or went out, andwas constantly giving her some pointed little attention to draw hernotice. Finally, she stopped for a moment to thank him, and he immediatelybecame most flattering, telling her he knew all about the Salvation Army, that he had a brother in its ranks, was deeply interested in their work inFrance, and most proud of what they were doing. He told her he had livedin Washington and said he supposed she often went there. She repliedpleasantly that she had but just come from there, but some keen intuitionbegan to warn this wise-hearted woman and when the next question, thoughspoken most casually, was: "Where are the Salvation Army workers now inFrance?" she replied evasively:

"Oh, wherever they are most needed, " and passed on with a friend. 

"I believe that man is a spy!" she said to her friend with conviction inher voice. 

"Nonsense!" the friend replied; "you are growing nervous. That man hasbeen in this hotel for several years. "

But that very night the man, with five others, was arrested, and proved tobe a spy hunting information about the location of the American troops inFrance. 

Now these incidents do not belong in just this spot in the book, but theyare placed here of intention that the reader may have a certain viewpointfrom which to take the story. For well does the world of evil realize whata strong force of opponents to their dark deeds is found in this greatChristian organization. Sometimes one is able the better to judge a man, his character and strength, when one knows who are his enemies. 

 * * * * *

It was the beginning of the dark days of 1917. 

The Commander sat in her quiet office, that office through which, excepton occasions like this when she locked the doors for a few minutes'special work, there marched an unbroken procession of men and affairs, affecting both souls and nations. 

Before her on the broad desk lay the notes of a new address which she waspreparing to deliver that evening, but her eyes were looking out of thewide window, across the clustering roofs of the great city to the whitehorizon line, and afar over the great water to the terrible scene of theStrife of Nations. 

For a long time her thoughts had been turning that way, for she had manybeloved comrades in that fight, both warring and ministering to thefighters, and she had often longed to go herself, had not her work heldher here. But now at last the call had come! America had entered the greatwar, and in a few days her sons would be marching from all over the landand embarking for over the seas to fling their young lives into thatinferno; and behind them would stalk, as always in the wake of War, Painand Sorrow and Sin! Especially Sin. She shuddered as she thought of itall. The many subtle temptations to one who is lonely and in a foreignland. 

Her eyes left the far horizon and hovered over the huddling roofs thatrepresented so many hundreds of thousands of homes. So many mothers togive up their sons; so many wives to be bereft; so many men and boys to besent forth to suffer and be tried; so many hearts already overburdened tobe bowed beneath a heavier load! Oh, her people! Her beloved people, whosesorrows and burdens and sins she bore in her heart and carried to the feetof the Master every day! And now this war!

And those young men, hardly more than children, some of them! With herquick insight and deep knowledge of the world, she visualized the way offire down which they must walk, and her soul was stricken with the thoughtof it! It was her work and the work of her chosen Army to help and save, but what could she do in such a momentous crisis as this? She had no moneyfor new work. Opportunities had opened up so fast. The Treasury wasalready overtaxed with the needs on this side of the water. There wereenterprises started that could not be given up without losing precioussouls who were on the way toward becoming redeemed men and women, fitcitizens of this world and the next. There was no surplus, ever! Themultifarious efforts to meet the needs of the poorest of the cities' poor, alone, kept everyone on the strain. There seemed no possibility of doingmore. Besides, how could they spare the workers to meet the new demandwithout taking them from places where they were greatly needed at home?And other perplexities darkened the way. There were those sitting in highplaces of authority who had strongly advised the Salvation Army to remainat home and go on with their street meetings, telling them that thebattlefield was no place for them, they would only be in the way. Theywere not adapted to a thing like war. But well she knew the capacity ofthe Salvation Army to adapt itself to whatever need or circumstancepresented. The same standard they had borne into the most wretched placesof earth in times of peace would do in times of war. 

Out there across the waters the Salvation Brothers and Sisters wereministering to the British armies at the front, and now that the Americanarmy was going, too, duty seemed very clear; the call was most imperative!

The written pages on her desk loudly demanded attention and the Commandertried to bring her thoughts back to them once more, but again and againthe call sounded in her heart. 

She lifted her eyes to the wall across the room from her desk where hungthe life-like portrait of her Christian-Warrior father, the grand oldkeen-eyed, wise-hearted General, founder of the movement. Like her fathershe knew they must go. There was no question about it. No hindrance shouldstop them. They MUST GO! The warrior blood ran in her veins. In this theworld's greatest calamity they must fulfill the mission for which he livedand died. 

"Go!" Those pictured eyes seemed to speak to her, just as they used tocommand her when he was here: "You must go and bear the standard of theCross to the front. Those boys are going over there, many of them to die, and some are telling them that if they make the supreme sacrifice in thistheir country's hour of need it will be all right with them when they gointo the world beyond. But when they get over there under shell fire theywill know that it is not so, and they will need Christ, the only atonementfor sin. You must go and take the Christ to them. "

Then the Commander bowed her head, accepting the commission; and there inthe quiet room perhaps the Master Himself stood beside her and gave herhis charge--just as she would later charge those whom she would sendacross the water--telling her that He was depending upon the SalvationArmy to bear His standard to the war. 

Perhaps it was at this same high conference with her Lord that she settledit in her heart that Lieutenant-Colonel William S. Barker was to be thepioneer to blaze the way for the work in France. 

However that may be he was an out-and-out Salvationist, of long and variedexperience. He was chosen equally for his proved consecration to service, for his unselfishness, for his exceptional and remarkable natural courageby which he was afraid of nothing, and for his unwavering persistence inplans once made in spite of all difficulties. The Commander once said ofhim: "If you want to see him at his best you must put him face to facewith a stone wall and tell him he must get on the other side of it. Nomatter what the cost or toil, whether hated or loved, he would get there!"

Thus carefully, prayerfully, were each one of the other workers selected;each new selection born from the struggle of her soul in prayer to Godthat there might be no mistakes, no unwise choices, no messengers sentforth who went for their own ends and not for the glory of God. Here liesthe secret which makes the world wonder to-day why the Salvation Armyworkers are called "the real thing" by the soldiers. They were hand-pickedby their leader on the mount, face to face with God. 

She took no casual comer, even with offers of money to back them, andthere were some of immense wealth who pleaded to be of the little band. She sent only those whom she knew and had tried. Many of them had beenborn and reared in the Salvation Army, with Christlike fathers and motherswho had made their homes a little piece of heaven below. All of them wereconsecrated, and none went without the urgent answering call in their ownhearts. 

It was early in June, 1917, when Colonel Barker sailed to France with hiscommission to look the field over and report upon any and everyopportunity for the Salvation Army to serve the American troops. 

In order to pave his way before reaching France, Colonel Barker secured aletter of introduction from Secretary-to-the-President Tumulty, to theAmerican Ambassador in France, Honorable William G. Sharp. 

In connection with this letter a curious and interesting incidentoccurred. When Colonel Barker entered the Secretary's office, he noticedhim sitting at the other end of the room talking with a gentleman. He wasabout to take a seat near the door when Mr. Tumulty beckoned to him tocome to the desk. When he was seated, without looking directly at theother gentleman, the Colonel began to state his mission to Mr. Tumulty. Before he had finished the stranger spoke up to Mr. Tumulty: "Give theColonel what he wants and make it a good one!" And lo! he was not astranger, but a man whose reform had made no small sensation in New Yorkcircles several years before, a former attorney who through his wickedlife had been despaired of and forsaken by his wealthy relatives, who hadsunk to the lowest depths of sin and poverty and been rescued by theSalvation Army. 

Continuing to Mr. Tumulty, he said: "You know what the Salvation Army hasdone for me; now do what you can for the Salvation Army. "

Mr. Tumulty gave him a most kind letter of introduction to the AmericanAmbassador. 

On his arrival in Liverpool Colonel Barker availed himself of theopportunity to see the very splendid work being done by the Salvation Armywith the British troops, both in France and in England, visiting manySalvation Army huts and hostels. He also put the Commander's plans forFrance before General Bramwell Booth in London. 

As early as possible Colonel Barker presented his letter of introductionto the American Ambassador, who in turn provided him with a letter ofintroduction to General Pershing which insured a cordial reception by him. Mr. Sharp informed Colonel Barker that he understood the policy of theAmerican army was to grant a monopoly of all welfare work to the Y. M. C. A. He feared the Salvation Army would not be welcome, but assured him thatanything he could properly do to assist the Salvation Army would be mostgladly done. In this connection he stated that he had known of and beeninterested in the work of the Salvation Army for many years, that severalmen of his acquaintance had been converted through their activities andbeen reformed from dissolute, worthless characters to kind husbands andfathers and good business men; and that he believed in the Salvation Armywork as a consequence. 

On many occasions during the subsequent months, Mr. Sharp was never toobusy to see the Salvation Army representatives, and has rendered valuableassistance in facilitating the forwarding of additional workers by hisinfluence with the State Department. 

It appeared that among military officers a kind feeling existed toward theSalvation Army, though it was generally thought that there was no openingfor their service. Their conception of the Salvation Army was that ofstreet corner meetings and public charity. The officers at that time couldnot see that the soldiers needed charity or that they would be interestedin religion. They could see how a reading-room, game-room andentertainments might be helpful, but anything further than that they didnot consider necessary. 

Colonel Barker presented his letter of introduction to General Pershing, and on behalf of Commander Booth offered the services of the SalvationArmy in any form which might be desired. 

General Pershing, who received the Colonel with exceptional cordiality, suggested that he go out to the camps, look the field over, and report tohim. Calling in his chief of staff he gave instructions that a side carshould be placed at Colonel Barker's disposal to go out to the camps; andalso that a letter of introduction to the General commanding the FirstDivision should be given to him, asking that everything should be done tohelp him. 

The first destination was Gondrecourt, where the First DivisionHeadquarters was established. 

II. 

The Gondrecourt Area

The advance guard of the American Expeditionary Forces had landed inFrance, and other detachments were arriving almost daily. They werereceived by the French with open arms and a big parade as soon as theylanded. Flowers were tossed in their path and garlands were flung aboutthem. They were lauded and praised on every hand. On the crest of thiswave of enthusiasm they could have swept joyously into battle and neverlost their smiles. 

But instead of going to the front at once they were billeted in littleFrench villages and introduced to French rain and French mud. 

When one discovers that the houses are built of stone, stuck togethermainly by this mud of the country, and remembers how many years they havestood, one gets a passing idea of the nature of this mud about which thesoldiers have written home so often. It is more like Portland cementthan anything else, and it is most penetrative and hard to get rid of; itgets in the hair, down the neck, into the shoes and it sticks. If thesoldier wears hip-boots in the trenches he must take them off every littlewhile and empty the mud out of them which somehow manages to get into evenhip-boots. It is said that one reason the soldiers were obliged to wearthe wrapped leggings was, not that they would keep the water out, but thatthey would strain the mud and at least keep the feet comparatively clean. 

[Illustration: Lieutenant-Colonel William S. Barker Director of War Workin France]

[Illustration: "Introduced to French Rain and French Mud"]

There were sixteen of these camps at this time and probably twelve orthirteen thousand soldiers were already established in them. 

There was no great cantonment as at the camps on this side of the water, nor yet a city of tents, as one might have expected. The forming of a campmeant the taking over of all available buildings in the little Frenchpeasant villages. The space was measured up by the town mayor and thebattalion leader and the proper number of men assigned to each building. In this way a single division covered a territory of about thirtykilometers. This system made a camp of any size available in very shortorder and also fooled the Huns, who were on the lookout for Americancamps. 

These villages were the usual farming villages, typical of eastern France. They are not like American villages, but a collection of farm yards, thehouses huddled together years ago for protection against roving bands ofmarauders. The farmer, instead of living upon his land, lives in thevillage, and there he has his barn for his cattle, his manure pile is athis front door, the drainage from it seeps back under the house at will, his chickens and pigs running around the streets. 

These houses were built some five or eight hundred years ago, some athousand or twelve hundred years. One house in the town aroused muchcuriosity because it was called the "new" house. It looked just like allthe others. One who was curious asked why it should have received thisappellative and was told because it was the last one that was built--onlytwo hundred and fifty years ago. 

There is a narrow hall or court running through these houses which is allthat separates the family from the horses and pigs and cows which abideunder the same roof. 

The whole place smells alike. There is no heat anywhere, save from afireplace in the kitchen. There is a community bakehouse. 

The soldiers were quartered in the barns and outhouses, the officers werequartered in the homes of these French peasants. There were no comfortsfor either soldier or officer. It rained almost continuously and at nightit was cold. No dining-rooms could be provided where the men could eat andthey lined up on the street, got their chow and ate it standing in therain or under whatever cover they could find. Few of them could understandany French, and all the conditions surrounding their presence in Francewere most trying to them. They were drilled from morning to night. Theywere covered with mud. The great fight in which they had come toparticipate was still afar off. No wonder their hearts grew heavy with agreat longing for home. Gloom sat upon their faces and depression grewwith every passing hour. 

Into these villages one after another came the little military side-carwith its pioneer Salvationists, investigating conditions and inquiring thegreatest immediate need of the men. 

All the soldiers were homesick, and wherever the little car stopped theSalvation Army uniform attracted immediate and friendly attention. Theboys expressed the liveliest interest in the possibility of the SalvationArmy being with them in France. These troops composed the regular army andwere old-timers. They showed at once their respect for and their belief inthe Salvation Army. One poor fellow, when he saw the uniform, exclaimed:"The Salvation Army! I believe they'll be waiting for us when we get tohell to try and save us!"

It appeared that the pay of the American soldier was so much greater thanthat of the French soldier that he had too much money at his disposal; andthis money was a menace both to him and to the French population. If somemeans could be provided for transferring the soldier's money home, itwould help out in the one direction which was most important at that time. 

It will be remembered that the French habit of drinking wine was everbefore the American soldier, and with 165 francs a month in his pocket, hebecame an object of interest to the French tradespeople, who encouragedhim to spend his money in drink, and who also raised the price on othercommodities to a point where the French population found it made livingfor them most difficult. 

The Salvation Army authorities in New York were all prepared to meet thisneed. The Organization has one thousand posts throughout the United Statescommanded by officers who would become responsible to get the soldier'smoney to his family or relatives in the United States. A simple money-order blank issued in France could be sent to the National Headquarters ofthe Salvation Army in New York and from there to the officer commandingthe corps in any part of the United States, who would deliver the money inperson. 

In this way the friends and relatives of the soldier in France would becomforted in the knowledge that the Salvation Army was in touch with theirboy; and if need existed in the family at home it would be discoveredthrough the visit of the Salvation Army officer in the homeland andimmediate steps taken to alleviate it. 

Perhaps this has done more than anything else to bring the blessing ofparents and relatives upon the organization, for tens of thousands ofdollars that would have been spent in gambling and drink have been senthome to widowed mothers and young wives. 

This suggestion appealed very strongly to the military general, who saidthat if the Salvation Army got into operation it could count upon anyassistance which he could give it, and if they conducted meetings he wouldsee that his regimental band was instructed to attend these meetings andfurnish the music. 

Several chaplains, both Protestant and Catholic, expressed themselves asbeing glad to welcome the Salvation Army among them. 

Among the Regular Army officers there was rather a pessimistic attitude. It was in nowise hostile, but rather doubtful. 

One general said that he did not see that the Salvation Army could do anygood. His idea of the Salvation Army being associated altogether with theslums and men who were down and out. But on the other hand, he said thathe did not see that the Salvation Army could do any harm, even if they didnot do any good, and as far as he was concerned he was agreeable to theircoming in to work in the First Division; and he would so report to GeneralPershing. 

St. Nazaire, the base, was being used for the reception of the troops asthey reached the shores of France. Here was a new situation. The men hadbeen cooped up on transports for several days and on their landing at St. Nazaire they were placed in a rest camp with the opportunity to visit thecity. Here they were a prey to immoral women and the officer commandingthe base was greatly concerned about the matter and eagerly welcomed theidea of having the Salvation Army establish good women in St. Nazaire whowould cope with the problem. 

The report given to General Pershing resulted in an official authorizationpermitting the Salvation Army to open their work with the AmericanExpeditionary Forces, and a suggestion that they go at once to theAmerican Training Area and see what they could do to alleviate theterrible epidemic of homesickness that had broken out among the soldiers. 

In the meantime, back in New York, the Commander had not been idle. Dailybefore the throne she had laid the great concerns of her Army, and dailyshe had been preparing her first little company of workers to go when theneed should call. 

There was no money as yet, but the Commander was not to be daunted, and sowhen the report came from over the water, she borrowed from the bankstwenty-five thousand dollars. 

She called the little company of pioneer workers together in a quiet placebefore they left and gave them such a charge as would make an angel searchhis heart. Before the Most High God she called upon them to tell her ifany of them had in his or her heart any motive or ambition in going otherthan to serve the Lord Christ. She looked down into the eyes of the youngmaidens and bade them put utterly away from them the arts and coquetriesof youth, and remember that they were sent forth to help and save and lovethe souls of men as God loved them; and that self must be forgotten, ortheir work would be in vain. She commanded them if even at this last hourany faltered or felt himself unfit for the God-given task, that he wouldtell her even then before it was too late. She begged them to rememberthat they held in their hands the honor of the Salvation Army, and theglory of Jesus Christ their Saviour as they went out to serve the troops. They were to be living examples of Christ's love, and they were to bewilling to lay down their lives if need be for His sake. 

There were tears in the eyes of some of those strong men that day as theylistened, and the look of exaltation on the faces of the women was like areflection from above. So must have looked the disciples of old when Jesusgave them the commission to go into all the world and preach the gospel. They were filled with His Spirit, and there was a look of utter joy andself-forgetfulness as they knelt with their leader to pray, in words whichcarried them all to the very feet of God and laid their lives a willingsacrifice to Him who had done so much for them. Still kneeling, with bowedheads, they sang, and their words were but a prayer. It is a way thesewonderful people have of bursting into song upon their knees with theireyes closed and faces illumined by a light of another world, their wholesouls in the words they are singing--"singing as unto the Lord!" Itreminds one of the days of old when the children of Israel did everythingwith songs and prayers and rejoicing, and the whole of life was carried onas if in the visible presence of God, instead of utterly ignoring Him asmost of us do now. 

The song this time was just a few lines of consecration:

 "Oh, for a heart whiter than snow! Saviour Divine, to whom else can I go? Thou who hast died, loving me so, Give me a heart that is whiter than snow!"

The dramatic beauty of the scene, the sweet, holy abandonment of thatprayer-song with its tender, appealing melody, would have held a throng ofthousands in awed wonder. But there was no audience, unless, perchance, the angels gathered around the little company, rejoicing that in thisworld of sin and war there were these who had so given themselves to God;but from that glory-touched room there presently went forth men and womenwith the spirit in their hearts that was to thrill like an electric wireevery life with which it came in contact, and show the whole world whatGod can do with lives that are wholly surrendered to Him. 

[Illustration: She called the little company of workers together and gavethem such a charge as would make an angel search his heart]

[Illustration: The lassie who fried the first doughnut in France]

It wtas a bright, sunny afternoon, August 12th, when this first party ofAmerican Salvation Army workers set sail for France. 

No doubt there was many a smile of contempt from the bystanders as theysaw the little group of blue uniforms with the gold-lettered scarlethatbands, and noticed the four poke bonnets among the number. What did thetambourine lassies know of REAL warfare? To those who reckoned theSalvation Army in terms of bands on the street corner, and shivering formsguarding Christmas kettles, it must have seemed the utmost audacity forthis "play army" to go to the front. 

When they arrived at Bordeaux on August 21st they went at once to Paris tobe fitted out with French uniforms, as General Pershing had given them allthe rank of military privates, and ordered that they should wear theregulation khaki uniforms with the addition of the red Salvation Armyshield on the hats, red epaulets, and with skirts for the women. 

A cabled message had reached France from the Commander saying that fundsto the extent of twenty-five thousand dollars had been arranged for, andwould be supplied as needed, and that a party of eleven officers werebeing dispatched at once. After that matters began to move rapidly. 

A portable tent, 25 feet by 100 feet, was purchased and shipped toDemange;--and a touring car was bought with part of the money advanced. 

Purchasing an automobile in France is not a matter merely of money. It isa matter for Governmental sanction, long delay, red tape--amazing goodluck. 

At the start the whole Salvation Army transportation system consisted ofthis one first huge limousine, heartlessly overdriven and overworked. Formany weeks it was Colonel Barker's office and bedroom. It carried all ofthe Salvation Army workers to and from their stations, hauled all of thesupplies on its roof, inside, on its fenders, and later also on a trailer. It ran day and night almost without end, two drivers alternating. It was asort of super-car, still in the service, to which Salvationists stillrefer with an affectionate amazement when they consider its terrificaccomplishments. It hauled all of the lumber for the first huts and a notuncommon sight was to see it tearing along the road at forty miles anhour, loaded inside and on top with supplies, several passengers clingingto its fenders, and a load of lumber or trunks trailing behind. For a longtime Colonel Barker had no home aside from this car. He slept wherever ithappened to be for the night--often in it, while still driven. One nighthe and a Salvation Army officer were lost in a strange woods in the caruntil four in the morning. They were without lights and there were no realroads. 

Later, of course, after long waiting, other trucks were bought and to-daythere are about fifty automobiles in this service. Chauffeurs had to bedeveloped out of men who had never driven before. They were even takenfrom huts and detailed to this work. 

In this first touring car Colonel Barker with one of the newly arrivedadjutants for driver, started to Demange. 

Twenty kilometers outside of Paris the car had a breakdown. The twoclambered out and reconnoitered for help. There was nothing for it but totake the car back to Paris. A man was found on the road who was willing totake it in tow, but they had no rope for a tow line. Over in the field bythe roadside the sharp eyes of the adjutant discovered some old rustywire. He pulled it out from the tangle of long grass, and behold it was apart of old barbed-wire entanglements!

In great surprise they followed it up behind the camouflage and foundthemselves in the old trenches of 1914. They walked in the trenches andentered some of the dugouts where the soldiers had lived in the memorabledays of the Marne fight. As they looked a little farther up the hillsidethey were startled to see great pieces of heavy field artillery, theirlong barrels sticking out from pits and pointing at them. They went closerto examine, and found the guns were made of wood painted black. Thebarrels were perfectly made, even to the breech blocks mounted on wheels, the tires of which were made of tin. They were a perfect imitation of aheavy ordnance piece in every detail. Curious, wondering what it couldmean, the two explorers looked about them and saw an old Frenchman comingtoward them. He proved to be the keeper of the place, and he told them thestory. These were the guns that saved Paris in 1914. 

The Boche had been coming on twenty kilometers one day, nineteen the next, fourteen the next, and were daily drawing nearer to the great city. Theywere so confident that they had even announced the day they would sweepthrough the gates of Paris. The French had no guns heavy enough to stopthat mad rush, and so they mounted these guns of wood, cut away the woodsall about them and for three hundred meters in front, and waited withtheir pitifully thin, ill-equipped line to defend the trenches. 

Then the German airplanes came and took pictures of them, and returned totheir lines to make plans for the next day; but when the pictures weredeveloped and enlarged they saw to their horror that the French hadbrought heavy guns to their front and were preparing to blow them out ofFrance. They decided to delay their advance and wait until they couldbring up artillery heavier than the French had, and while they waited theGermans broke into the French wine cellars and stole the "vin blanche" and"vin rouge. " The French call this "light" wine and say it takes the placeof water, which is only fit for washing; but it proved to be too heavy forthe Germans that day. They drank freely, not even waiting to unseal thebottles of rare old vintage, but knocked the necks off the bottles againstthe stone walls and drank. They were all drunk and in no condition toconquer France when their artillery came up, and so the wooden French gunsand the French wine saved Paris. 

When the two men finally arrived in Demange the Military General greetedthem gladly and invited them to dine with him. 

He had for a cook a famous French chef who provided delicious meals, butfor dessert the chef had attempted to make an American apple pie, whichwas a dismal failure. The colonel said to the general: "Just wait till ourSalvation Army women get here and I will see that they make you a pie thatis a pie. "

The General and the members of his staff said they would remember thatpromise and hold him to it. 

The pleasure which the thought of that pie aroused furnished a suggestionfor work later on. 

Within two or three days the hut had arrived. The question of a lot uponwhich to place it was most important. The billeting officers stated thatnone could be had within the town and insisted that the hut would have tobe placed in an inaccessible spot on the outskirts of the town, butColonel Barker asked the General if he would mind his looking abouthimself and he readily assented. The indomitable Barker, true to the"never-say-die" slogan of the Salvation Army, went out and found asplendid lot on the main street in the heart of the town, which was beingpartly used by its owner as a vegetable garden. He quickly secured theservices of a French interpreter and struck a bargain with the owner torent the lot for the sum of sixteen dollars a year, and on his return withthe information that this lot had been secured the General was greatlyimpressed. 

A wire had been sent to Paris instructing the men of the party to comedown immediately. A couple of tents were secured to provide temporarysleeping accommodation and the men lined up in the chow line with thedoughboys at meal-time. 

The six Salvationists pulled off their coats at once and went to work, much to the amusement of a few curious soldiers who stood idly watchingthem. 

They discovered right at the start that the building materials which hadbeen sent ahead of them had been dumped on the wrong lot, and the firstthing they had to do was to move them all to the proper site. This was noeasy task for men who had but recently left office chairs and clericalwork. Unaccustomed muscles cried out in protest and weary backs ached andcomplained, but the men stubbornly marched back and forth carrying bigtimbers, and attracting not a little attention from soldiers who wonderedwhat in the world the Salvation Army could be up to over in France. Someof them were suspicious. Had they come to try and stuff religion downtheir throats? If so, they would soon find out their mistake. So, half inbelligerence, half in amusement, the soldiers watched their progress. Itwas a big joke to them, who had come here for _serious_ business andlonged to be at it. 

Steadily, quietly, the work went on. They laid the timbers and erected theframework of their hut, keeping at it when the rain fell and soaked themto the skin. They were a bit awkward at it at first, perhaps, for it wasnew work to them, and they had but few tools. The hut was twenty-five feetwide and a hundred feet long. The walls went up presently, and the roofwent on. One or two soldiers were getting interested and offered to help abit; but for the most part they stood apart suspiciously, while theSalvation Army worked cheerily on and finished the building with their ownhands. 

Colonel Barker meanwhile had gone back to Paris for supplies and to bringthe women overland in the automobile, because he was somewhat fearful lestthey might be held up if they attempted to go out by train. The idea ofwomen in the camps was so new to our American soldiers, and so distastefulto the French, that they presented quite a problem until their work fullyjustified their presence. 

It got about that some real American girls were coming. The boys began togrow curious. When the big French limousine carrying them arrived in thecamp it was greeted by some of the soldiers with the greatest enthusiasmwhile others looked on in critical silence. But very soon their influencewas felt, for a commanding officer stated that his men were more contentedand more easily handled since the unprecedented innovation of women in thecamp than they had been within the experience of the old Regular Armyofficers. Profanity practically ceased in the vicinity of the hut and wasnever indulged in in the presence of the Salvationists. 

While the hut was being erected meetings were conducted in the open airwhich were attended by great throngs, and after every meeting from one tofour or five boys asked for the privilege of going into the tent at theback and being prayed with, and many conversions resulted from these firstopen-air meetings. Boys walked in from other camps from a distance as faraway as five miles to attend these meetings and many were converted. Thehut was finally completed and equipped and was to be formally opened onSunday evening. 

In the meantime the Y. M. C. A. Was getting busy also establishing its workin the camps; therefore, the Salvation Army tried to place their huts intowns where the Y. Was not operating, so that they might be able to reachthose who had the greatest need of them. 

Officers had been appointed to take charge of the Demange hut andimmediately further operations in other towns were being arranged. 

A Y. M. C. A. Hut, however, followed quickly on the heels of the SalvationArmy at Demange and the night of the opening of the Salvation Army hutsomeone came to ask if they would come over to the Y. And help in ameeting. Sure, they would help! So the Staff-Captain took a cornetist andtwo of the lassies and went over to the Y. M. C. A. Hut. 

It was early dusk and a crowd was gathered about where a rope ring fencedoff the place in which a boxing match had been held the day before, acrossthe road from the hut. The band had been stationed there giving a concertwhich was just finished, and the men were sitting in a circle on theground about the ring. 

The Salvationists stood at the door of the hut and looked across to thecrowd. 

"How about holding our meeting over there?" asked the Staff-Captain of theman in charge. 

"All right. Hold it wherever you like. "

So a few willing hands brought out the piano, and the four Salvationistsmade their way across to the ring. The soldiers raised a loud cheer andhurrah to see the women stoop and slip under the rope, and a spirit ofsympathy seemed to be established at once. 

There were a thousand men gathered about and the cornet began where theband had left off, thrilling out between the roar of guns. 

Up above were the airplanes throbbing back and forth, and signal lightswere flashing. It was a strange place for a meeting. The men gatheredcloser to see what was going on. 

The sound of an old familiar hymn floated out on the evening, bringing asudden memory of home and days when one was a little boy and went toSunday school; when there was no war, and no one dreamed that the sonswould have to go forth from their own land to fight. A sudden hush stoleover the men and they sat enthralled watching the little band of singersin the changing flicker of light and darkness. Women's voices! Young andfresh, too, not old ones. How they thrilled with the sweetness of it:

 "Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee, E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me. "

A cross! Was it possible that God was leading them to Him through all thisawfulness? But the thought only hovered above them and hushed their heartsinto attention as they gruffly joined their young voices in the melody. Another song followed, and a prayer that seemed to bring the great Godright down in their midst and make Him a beloved comrade. They had not gotover the wonder of it when a new note sounded on piano and cornet andevery voice broke forth in the words:

 "When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound And time shall be no more--"

How soon would that trumpet sound for many of them! Time should be nomore! What a startling thought!

Following close upon the song came the sweet voice of a young girlspeaking. They looked up in wonder, listening with all their souls. Itwas like having an angel drop down among them to see her there, and hearher clear, unafraid voice. The first thing that struck them was herintense earnestness, as if she had a message of great moment to bring tothem. 

Her words searched their hearts and found out the weak places; those fearsand misgivings that they had known were there from the beginning, and hadbeen trying hard to hide from themselves because they saw no cure forthem. With one clear-cut sentence she tore away all camouflage and setthem face to face with the facts. They were in a desperate strait and theyknew it. Back there in the States they had known it. Down in the campsthey had felt it, and had made various attempts to find something strongand true to help them, but no one had seemed to understand. Even when theywent to church there had been so much talk about the "supreme sacrifice"and the glory of dying for one's country, that they had a vague feelingthat even the minister did not believe in his religion any more. And sothey had whistled and tried to be jolly and forget. They were all in thesame boat, and this was a job that had to be done, they couldn't get outof it; best not think about the future! So they had lulled theirconsciences to sleep. But it was there, back in their minds all the time, a looming big awful question about the hereafter; and when the great gunsboomed afar as a few were doing tonight and they thought how soon theymight be called to go over the top, they would have been fools not to haverecognized it. 

But here at last was someone else who understood!

She was telling the old, old story of Jesus and His love, and every man ofthem as he listened felt it was true. It had been like a vague tale ofchildhood before; something that one outgrows and smiles at; but now itsuddenly seemed so simple, so perfect, so fitted to their desperate need. Just the old story that everybody has sinned, and broken God's law: thatGod in His love provided a way of escape in the death of His Son Jesus onthe Cross, from penalty for sin for all who would accept it; that He gaveevery one of us free wills; and it was up to us whether we would accept itor not. 

There were men in that company who had come from college classes wherethey had been taught the foolishness of blood atonement, and who had oftensmiled disdainfully at the Bible; there were boys from cultured, refinedhomes where Jesus Christ had always been ignored; there were boys who hadrepudiated the God their mothers trusted in; and there were boys of lowerdegree whose lips were foul with blasphemy and whose hearts were scarredwith sin; but all listened, now, in a new way. It was somehow differentover here, with the thunder of artillery in the near distance, thehovering presence of death not far away, the flashing of signal lights, the hum of the airplanes, the whole background of war. The message of thegospel took on a reality it had never worn before. When this simple girlasked if they would not take Jesus tonight as their Saviour, there weremany who raised their hands in the darkness and many more hearts werebowed whose owners could not quite bring themselves to raise their hands. 

Then a lassie's voice began to sing, all alone:

 "I grieved my Lord from day to day, I scorned His love, so full and free, And though I wandered far away, My Mother's prayers have followed me. I'm coming home, I'm coming home, To live my wasted life anew, For Mother's prayers have followed me, Have followed me, the whole world through. 

 "O'er desert wild, o'er mountain high, A wanderer I chose to be--- A wretched soul condemned to die; Still Mother's prayers have followed me. 

 "He turned my darkness into light, This blessed Christ of Calvary; I'll praise His name both day and night, That Mother's prayers have followed me! I'm coming home, I'm coming home---"

Only the last great day will reveal how many hearts echoed those words;but the voices were all husky with emotion as they tried to join in theclosing hymn that followed. 

There were those who lingered about the speakers and wanted to inquire theway of salvation, and some knelt in a quiet corner and gave themselves toChrist. Over all of them there was a hushed thoughtfulness. When theworkers started back to their own hut the crowd went with them, talkingeagerly as they went, hovering about wistfully as if here were the firstreal thing they had found since coming away from home. 

Over at the Salvation Army hut another service had been going forward withequal interest, the dedication of the new building. The place was crowdedto its utmost capacity, and crowds were standing outside and peering in atthe windows. Some of the French people of the neighborhood, women andchildren and old men, had drifted over, and were listening to the singingin open-eyed wonderment. Among them one of the Salvation Army workers haddistributed copies of the French "War Cry" with stories of Christ in theirown language, and it began to dawn upon them that these people believed inthe same Jesus that was worshipped in their French churches; yet theynever had seen services like these. The joyous music thrilled them. 

Before they slept that night the majority of the soldiers in that vicinityhad lost most of their prejudice against the little band of unselfishworkers that had dropped so quietly down into their midst. Word wasbeginning to filter out from camp to camp that they were a good sort, thatthey sold their goods at cost and a fellow could even "jawbone" when hewas "broke. "

Salvation Army huts gave the soldiers "jawbone, " this being the soldier'sname for credit. No accounts were kept of the amount allowed to eachsoldier. When a soldier came to the canteen and asked for "jawbone, " hewas asked how much he had already been allowed. If the amount owed by himalready was large, he was cautioned not to go too deeply into his next paycheck; but never was a man refused anything within reason. Frequently onehut would have many thousands of francs outstanding by the end of a month. But, although there was no check against them, soldiers always squaredtheir accounts at pay-day and very little indeed was lost. 

One man came in and threw 300 francs on the counter, saying: "I owe you285 francs. Put the change in the coffee fund. "

One Salvation Army Ensign frequently loaned sums of money out of his ownpocket to soldiers, asking that, when they were in a position to returnit, they hand it in to any Salvation Army hut, saying that it was for him. He says that he has never lost by doing this. 

One day as he was driving from Havre to Paris he met six American soldierswhose big truck had broken down. They asked him where there was aSalvation Army hut; but there was none in that particular section. Theyhad no food, no money, and no place to sleep. He handed them seventyfrancs and told them to leave it at any Salvation Army hut for him whenthey were able. Five months passed and then the money was turned in to aSalvation Army hut and forwarded to him. With it was a note stating thatthe men had been with the French troops and had not been able to reach aSalvation Army establishment. They were very grateful for the trustreposed in them by the Salvationist. Undoubtedly there are many suchinstances. 

The Salvation Army officer who with his wife was put in charge of the hutat Demange, soon became one of the most popular men in camp. His generousspirit, no less than his rough-and-ready good nature, manful, soldier-likedisposition, coupled with a sturdy self-respect and a ready humor, madehim blood brother to those hard-bitten old regulars and National Guardsmenof the first American Expeditionary Force. 

The Salvation Army quickly became popular. Meetings were held almost everynight at that time with an average attendance of not less than fivehundred. Meetings as a rule were confined to wonderful song services andbrief, snappy talks. At first there were very few conversions, but therehave been more since the great drives in which the Americans have taken solarge a share. The Masons, the Moose and a Jewish fraternity used the hutfor fraternal gatherings. Catholic priests held mass in it upon variousoccasions. The school for officers and the school for "non-coms" met init. The band practiced in it every morning. Because of its popularityamong the men it was known among the officers as "the soldiers' hut. "General Duncan once addressed his staff officers in it upon some importantmatters. 

It rained every day for three months. The hut was on rather low ground andin back of it ran the river, considerably swollen by the rains. One nightthe river rose suddenly, carried away one tent and flooded the other twoand the hut. The Salvation Army men spent a wild, wet, sleepless nighttrying to salvage their scanty personal belongings and their stock ofsupplies. When the river retreated it left the hut floor covered withslimy black mud which the two men had to shovel out. This was a back-breaking task occupying the better part of two days. 

The first snow fell on the bitterest night of the year. It was preceded bythe rain and was damp and heavy. The soldiers suffered terribly, especially the men on guard duty who had perforce to endure the full blastof the storm. During the earlier hours of the night the girls served allcomers with steaming coffee and filled the canteens of the men on guard(free). When they saw how severe the night would be they remained up tokeep a supply of coffee ready for the Salvation Army men who went therounds through the storm every half hour, serving the sentries with thewarming fluid. 

That first Expeditionary Force wanted for many things, and enduredhardships unthought of by troops arriving later, after the war industriesat home had swung into full production. It was almost impossible to securestoves, and firewood was scarce. For every load that went to the SalvationArmy Hut, men of the American Expeditionary Force had to do without, andyet wood was always supplied to the Salvationists (it could not bebought). 

At St. Joire, the wood pile had entirely given out and it looked as ifthere was to be no heat at the Salvation Army hut that night. The sergeantpromised them half a load, but the wood wagon lost a wheel about a hundredyards out of town. 

"Never mind, " said the sergeant to the girls, "the boys will see that youget some to-night. "

So he requested every man going up to the Salvation Army hut that eveningto carry a stick of wood with him ("a stick" may weigh anywhere from 10 to100 pounds). By eight o'clock there was over a wagon load and a halfstacked in back of the hut. 

Two small stoves cast circles of heat in the big hut at Demange. Aroundthem the men crowded with their wet garments steaming so profusely thatthe hut often took on the appearance of a steam-room in a Turkish bath. The rest of the hut was cold; but compared to the weather outside, it washeaven-like. For all of its size, the hut was frail, and the winter windblew coldly through its many cracks; but compared with the soldier'sbillets, it was a cozy palace. The Salvationists spent hours each weeksitting on the roof in the driving rain patching leaks with tar-paper andtacks. 

The life was a hard one for the girls. They nearly froze during the days, and at nights they usually shivered themselves to sleep, only sleepingwhen sheer exhaustion overcame them. There were no baths at all. Theexperience was most trying for women and only the spirit of the greatenterprise in which they were engaged carried them through the winter. Even soldiers were at times seen weeping with cold and misery. 

One night the gasoline tank which supplied light to the hut exploded andset the place on fire. A whole regiment turned out of their blankets toput out the blaze. This meant more hours for those in charge repairing theroof in the snow. They also had to cut all of the wood for the hut. Laterdetails were supplied to every hut by the military authorities to cutwood, sweep and clean up, carry water, etc. Soldiers used the hut for amess hall. There was no other place where they could eat with any degreeof comfort. 

By this time the fact that the Salvation Army was established at Demangewas becoming known throughout the division. 

One of the towns where there had been no arrangements made for welfareworkers at all was Montiers-sur-Saulx, where the First Ammunition Trainwas established, and here the officer temporarily commanding theammunition train gave a most hearty welcome to the Salvation Army. 

Two large circus tents had been sent on from New York and one of these wasto be erected until a wooden building could be secured. 

The touring car went back to Demange, picked up a Staff-Captain, aCaptain, five white tents, the largest one thirty by sixty feet, theothers smaller, carried them across the country and dropped them down atthe roadside of the public square in Montiers. 

There stood the Salvationists in the road wondering what to do next. 

Then a hearty voice called out: "Are you locating with us?" and themilitary officer of the day advanced to meet them with a hand-shake andmany expressions of his appreciation of the Salvation Army. 

"We are going to stay here if you will have us, " said the Staff-Captain. 

"Have you! Well, I should say we would have you! Wait a minute and I'llhave a detail put your baggage under cover for the night. Then we'll seeabout dinner and a billet. "

Thus auspiciously did the work open in Montiers. 

In a few minutes they were taken to a French café and a comfortable placefound for them to spend the night. 

Soon after the rising of the sun the next morning they were up and abouthunting a place for the tents which were to serve for a recreation centrefor the boys. The American Major in charge of the town personally assistedthem to find a good location, and offered his aid in any way needed. 

Before nightfall the five white tents were up, standing straight and truewith military precision, and the two officers with just pride in theirhard day's work, and a secret assurance that it would stand the heartyapproval of the commanding officer whom they had not as yet met, went offto their suppers, for which they had a more than usually hearty appetite. 

Suddenly the door of the dining-room swung open and a gruff voicedemanded: "Who put up those tents?" The Salvation Army Staff-Captain stoodforth saluting respectfully and responded: "I, sir. " "Well, " said theColonel, "they look mighty fine up on that hill--mighty fine! Splendidlocation for them--splendid! But the enemy can spot them for a hundredmiles, so I expect you had better get them down or camouflage them withgreen boughs and paint by tomorrow night at the latest. Good evening toyou, sir!"

The Staff-Captain and his helper suddenly lost their fine appetites andfelt very tired. Camouflage! How did they do that at a moment's notice?They left their unfinished dinner and hurried out in search of help. 

The first soldier the Staff-Captain questioned reassured him. 

"Aw, that's dead easy! Go over the hill into the woods and cut somebranches, enough to cover your tents; or easier yet, get some green andyellow paint and splash over them. The worse they look the better theyare!"

So the weary workers hunted the town over for paint, and found only enoughfor the big tent, upon which they worked hard all the next morning. Thenthey had to go to the woods for branches for the rest. Scratched andbleeding and streaked with perspiration and dirt, they finished their workat last, and the white tents had disappeared into the green and the yellowand the brown of the hillside. Their beautiful military whiteness wasgone, but they were hidden safe from the enemy and the work might now goforward. 

Then the girls arrived and things began to look a bit more cheerful. 

"But where is the cook stove?" asked one of the lassies after they had setup their two folding cots in one of the smaller tents and made themselvesat home. 

Dismay descended upon the face of the weary Staff-Captain. 

"Why, " he answered apologetically, "we forgot all about that!" and hehurried out to find a stove. 

A thorough search of the surrounding country, however, disclosed the factthat there was not a stove nor a field range to be had--no, not even fromthe commissary. There was nothing for it but to set to work and contrive afireplace out of field stone and clay, with a bit of sheet iron for aroof, and two or three lengths of old sewer pipe carefully wired togetherfor a stovepipe. It took days of hard work, and it smoked woefully exceptwhen the wind was exactly west, but the girls made fudge enough on it forthe entire personnel of the Ammunition train to celebrate when it wasfinished. 

When the girls first arrived in Montiers the Salvation Army Staff-Captainwas rather at a loss to know what to do with them until the hut was built. They were invited to chow with the soldiers, and to eat in an old Frenchbarn used as a kitchen, in front of which the men lined up at the opendoorways for mess. It was a very dirty barn indeed, with heavy cobwebshanging in weird festoons from the ceiling and straw and manure all overthe floor; quite too barnlike for a dining-hall for delicately rearedwomen. The Staff-Captain hesitated about bringing them there, but theMess-Sergeant offered to clean up a corner for them and give them acomfortable table. 

"I don't know about bringing my girls in here with the men, " said theStaff-Captain still hesitating. "You know the men are pretty rough intheir talk, and they're always cussing!"

"Leave that to me!" said the Mess-Sergeant. "It'll be all right!"

There was an old dirty French wagon in the barnyard where they kept thebread. It was not an inviting prospect and the Staff-Captain looked abouthim dubiously and went away with many misgivings, but there seemed to benothing else to be done. 

The boys did their best to fix things up nicely. When meal time arrivedand the girls appeared they found their table neatly spread with a dishtowel for a tablecloth. It purported to be clean, but there are degrees ofcleanliness in the army and there might have been a difference of opinion. However, the girls realized that there had been a strenuous attempt to dohonor to them and they sat down on the coffee kegs that had been provided_en lieu_ of chairs with smiling appreciation. 

The Staff-Captain's anxiety began to relax as he noticed the quietrespectful attitude of the men when they passed by the doorway and lookedeagerly over at the corner where the girls were sitting. It was great tohave American women sitting down to dinner with them, as it were. Not a"cuss word" broke the harmony of the occasion. The best cuts of meat, thelargest pieces of pie, were given to the girls, and everybody united tomake them feel how welcome they were. 

Then into the midst of the pleasant scene there entered one who had beenaway for a few hours and had not yet been made acquainted with the neworder of things at chow; and he entered with an oath upon his lips. 

He was a great big fellow, but the strong arm of the Mess-Sergeant flashedout from the shoulder instantly, the sturdy fist of the Mess-Sergeant wasplanted most unexpectedly in the newcomer's face, and he found himselfsprawling on the other side of the road with all his comrades glaring athim in silent wrath. That was the beginning of a new order of things atthe mess. 

The Colonel in charge of the regiment had gone away, and the commandingMajor, wishing to make things pleasant for the Salvationists, sent for theStaff-Captain and invited them all to his mess at the chateau; telling himthat if he needed anything at any time, horses or supplies, or anything inhis power to give, to let him know at once and it should be supplied. 

The Staff-Captain thanked him, but told him that he thought they wouldstay with the boys. 

The boys, of course, heard of this and the Salvation Army people hadanother bond between them and the soldiers. The boys felt that theSalvationists were their very own. Nothing could have more endeared themto the boys than to share their life and hardships. 

The Salvation Army had not been with the soldiers many hours before theydiscovered that the disease of homesickness which they had been sent tosuccor was growing more and more malignant and spreading fast. 

The training under French officers was very severe. Trench feet with allits attendant suffering was added to the other discomforts. Was it anywonder that homesickness seized hold of every soldier there?

It had been raining steadily for thirty-six days, making swamps and poolseverywhere. Depression like a great heavy blanket hung over the wholearea. 

The Salvation Army lassies at Montiers were in consultation. Theirsupplies were all gone, and the state of the roads on account of the rainwas such that all transportation was held up. They had been waiting, hoping against hope, that a new load of supplies would arrive, but thereseemed no immediate promise of that. 

"We ought to have something more than just chocolate to sell to thesoldiers, anyway, " declared one lassie, who was a wonderful cook, lookingacross the big tent to the drooping shoulders and discouraged faces of theboys who were hovering about the Victrola, trying to extract a littlecomfort from the records. "We ought to be able to give them some real homecooking!"

They all agreed to this, but the difficulties in the way were great. Flourwas obtainable only in small quantities. Now and then they could get asack of flour or a bag of sugar, but not often. Lard also was a scarcearticle. Besides, there were no stoves, and no equipment had as yet beenissued for ovens. All about them were apple orchards and they might havebaked some pies if there had been ovens, but at present that was out ofthe question. After a long discussion one of the girls suggesteddoughnuts, and even that had its difficulties, although it really was theonly thing possible at the time. For one thing they had no rolling-pin andno cake-cutter in the outfit. Nevertheless, they bravely went to work. Thelittle tent intended for such things had blown down, so the lassie had tostand out in the rain to prepare the dough. 

The first doughnuts were patted out, until someone found an empty grape-juice bottle and used that for a rolling-pin. As they had no cutter theyused a knife, and twisted them, making them in shape like a cruller. Theywere cooked over a wood fire that had to be continually stuffed with fuelto keep the fat hot enough to fry. The pan they used was only large enoughto cook seven at once, but that first day they made one hundred and fiftybig fat sugary doughnuts, and when the luscious fragrance began to floatout on the air and word went forth that they had real "honest-to-goodness"home doughnuts at the Salvation Army hut, the line formed away out intothe road and stood patiently for hours in the rain waiting for a taste ofthe dainties. As there were eight hundred men in the outfit and only ahundred and fifty doughnuts that first day, naturally a good many weredisappointed, but those who got them were appreciative. One boy as he tookthe first sugary bite exclaimed: "Gee! If this is war, let it continue!"

The next day the girls managed to make three hundred, but one of them wasnot satisfied with a doughnut that had no hole in it, and while she workedshe thought, until a bright idea came to her. The top of the baking-powdercan! Of course! Why hadn't they thought of that before? But how could theyget the hole? There seemed nothing just right to cut it. Then, the verynext morning the inside tube to the coffee percolator that somebody hadbrought along came loose, and the lassie stood in triumph with it in herhand, calling to them all to see what a wonderful hole it would make inthe doughnut. And so the doughnut came into its own, hole and all. 

That was at Montiers, the home of the doughnut. 

One of the older Salvation Army workers remarked jocularly that theSalvation Army had to go to France and get linked up with the doughnutbefore America recognized it; but it was the same old Salvation Army andthe same old doughnut that it had always been. He averred that it wasn'tthe doughnut at all that made the Salvation Army famous, but the wonderfulgirls that the Salvation Army brought over there; the girls that lay awakeat night after a long hard day's work scheming to make the way of thedoughboy easier; scheming how to take the cold out of the snow and the wetout of the rain and the stickiness out of the mud. The girls that prayedover the doughnuts, and then got the maximum of grace out of the minimumof grease. 

The young Adjutant lassie who fried the first doughnut in France says thatinvariably the boys would begin to talk about home and mother while theywere eating the doughnuts. Through the hole in the doughnut they seemed tosee their mother's face, and as the doughnut disappeared it grew biggerand clearer. 

The young Ensign lassie who had originated and _made_ the firstdoughnut in France contrived to make many pies on a very tiny French stovewith an oven only large enough to hold two pies at a time. Meanwhile, frying doughnuts on the top of the stove. 

It wasn't long before the record for the doughnut makers had been broughtup to five thousand a day, and some of the unresting workers developed"doughnut wrist" from sticking to the job too long at a time. 

It was the original thought that pie would be the greatest attraction, butit was difficult to secure stoves with ovens adequate for baking pies, andafter the ensign's experiment with doughnuts it was found that they couldmore easily be made and were quite as acceptable to the American boy. 

Meantime, the pie was coming into its own, back in Demange also. 

It was only a little stove, and only room to bake one pie at a time, butit was a savory smell that floated out on the air, and it was a long lineof hungry soldiers that hurried for their mess kits and stood hourswaiting for more pies to bake; and the fame of the Salvation Army began tospread far and wide. Then one day the "Stars and Stripes, " the organ ofthe American Army, printed the following poem about the lassie who laboredso far forward that she had to wear a tin hat:

 "Home is where the heart is"-- Thus the poet sang; But "home is where the pie is" For the doughboy gang! Crullers in the craters, Pastry in abris-- This Salvation Army lass Sure knows how to please!

 Tin hat for a halo! Ah! She wears it well! Making pies for homesick lads Sure is "beating hell!" In a region blasted By fire and flame and sword, This Salvation Army lass Battles for the Lord!

 Call me sacrilegious And irreverent, too; Pies? They link us up with home As naught else can do! "Home is, where the heart is"-- True, the poet sang; But "home is where the pie is"-- To the Yankee gang!

It was no easy task to open up a chain of huts, for there was an amazingvariety of details to be attended to, any one of which might delay thework. A hundred and one unexpected situations would develop during thecourse of a single day which must be dealt with quickly and intelligently. The fact that the Salvation Army section of the American ExpeditionaryForce is militarized and strictly accountable for all of its action to theUnited States military authorities is complicated in many places by thefurther fact that the French civil and military authorities must also betaken into consideration and consulted at every step. Nevertheless, inspite of all difficulties the work went steadily forward. The patientofficers who were seeing to all these details worked almost night and dayto place the huts and workers where they would do the most good to thegreatest number; and steadily the Salvation Army grew in favor with thesoldiers. 

It was extremely difficult to obtain materials for the erection of huts--in many cases almost impossible. Once when Colonel Barker found troopsmoving, he discovered the village for which they were bound, rushed aheadin his automobile, and commandeered an old French barracks which wouldotherwise have been occupied by the American soldiers. When the soldiersarrived they were overjoyed to find the Salvation Army awaiting them withhot food. They were soaked through by the rain, and never was hot coffeemore welcome. There was a little argument about the commandeered barracks. It was to have been used as headquarters, but when the commanding officerwent out into the rain and saw for himself what service it was performingfor his men, and how overjoyed they were by the entertainment he said:"We'll leave it to the men, whether they will be billeted here or let theSalvation Army have the place. " The men with one accord voted to give itto the Salvation Army. 

In one town, after an animated discussion with a crowd of enlisted men, asergeant came to the Salvation Army Major as he worked away with hishammer putting up a hut and said: "Captain, would it make you mad if weoffered our services to help?"

[Illustration: "Tin hat for a halo! Ah! She wears it well!"]

[Illustration: The patient officers who were seeing to all these detailsworked out almost day and night]

After that the work went on in record time. In less than a week the hutwas finished and ready for business. Two self-appointed details ofsoldiers from the regulars employed all their spare time in a friendlyrivalry to see which could accomplish the most work. When it was dedicatedthe popularity of the hut was well assured. Later, in another location, ahut 125 feet by 27 feet was put up with the assistance of soldiers in sixhours and twenty minutes. 

More men and women had arrived from America, and the work began to assumebusiness-like proportions. There were huts scattered all through theAmerican training area. 

As other huts were established the making of pies and doughnuts became aregular part of the daily routine of the hut. It was found that a canteenwhere candy and articles needed by the soldiers could be obtained atmoderate prices would fill a very pressing need and this was made a partof their regular operation. 

The purchase of an adequate quantity of supplies was a great problem. Itwas necessary to make frequent trips to Paris, to establish connectionswith supply houses there, and to attend to the shipping of the suppliesout to the camps. At first it was impossible to purchase any quantity ofsupplies from any house. The demand for everything was so great thatwholesale dealers were most independent. Three hundred dollars' worth ofsupplies was the most that could be purchased from any one house, but incourse of time, confidence and friendly relations being established, itbecame possible to purchase as much as ten thousand dollars' worth at onetime from one dealer. 

The first twenty-five thousand dollars, of course, was soon gone, butanother fifty thousand dollars arrived from Headquarters in New York, andafter a little while another fifty thousand; which hundred thousanddollars was loaned by General Bramwell Booth from the InternationalTreasury. The money was not only borrowed, but the Commander had promisedto pay it back in twelve months (which guarantee it is pleasant to statewas made good long before the promised time), for the Commander had said:"It is only a question of our getting to work in France, and the Americanpublic will see that we have all the money we want. "

So it has proved. 

In the meantime another hut was established at Houdelainecourt. 

The American boys were drilling from early morning until dark; the weatherwas wet and cold; the roads were seas of mud and the German planes cameover the valleys almost nightly to seek out the position of the Americantroops and occasionally to drop bombs. It was necessary that all tentsshould be camouflaged, windows darkened so that lights would not show atnight, and every means used to keep the fact of the Americans' presencefrom the German observers and spies. 

Another party of Salvation Army officers, men and women, arrived from NewYork on September 23rd, and these were quickly sent out to Demange whichfor the time being was used as the general base of supplies, but later ahouse was secured at Ligny-en-Barrios, and this was for many months theHeadquarters. 

One interesting incident occurred here in connection with this house. Oneof its greatest attractions had been that it was one of the few housescontaining a bathroom, but when the new tenants arrived they found thatthe anticipated bathtub had been taken out with all its fittings andcarefully stowed away in the cellar. It was too precious for the commonuse of tenants. 

All Salvation Army graduates from the training school have a Red Crossdiploma, and many are experienced nurses. 

A Salvation Army woman Envoy sailed for France with a party ofSalvationists about the time that the epidemic of influenza broke out allover the world. Even before the steamer reached the quarantine station inNew York harbor a number of cases of Spanish influenza had developed amongthe several companies of soldiers who were aboard, a number of whom wereremoved from the ship. So anxious were others of these American fightingmen to reach Prance that they hid away until the steamer had left port. 

Land was hardly out of sight before more cases of the disease werereported--so many, in fact, that special hospital accommodations had to beimmediately arranged. The ship's captain after consulting with theAmerican military officers, requested the Salvation Army Envoy to takeentire responsibility for the hospital, which responsibility, after somehesitation, she accepted. Under her were two nurses, three dieticians(Y. M. C. A. And Red Cross), a medical corps sergeant (U. S. A. ), and twenty-four orderlies. She took charge on the fourth day of a thirteen dayvoyage, working in the sick bay from 12 noon to 8 P. M. , and from 12midnight to 8 A. M. Every day. She had with her a mandolin and a guitarwith which, in addition to her sixteen hours of duty in the sick bay, sheevery day spent some time (usually an hour or two) on deck singing andplaying for the soldiers who were much depressed by the epidemic. To themshe was a very angel of good cheer and comfort. 

Many amusing incidents occurred on the voyage. 

Stormy weather had added to the discomforts of the trip and most of thepassengers suffered from seasickness during the greater part of thevoyage. 

On board there was also a woman of middle age who could not be persuadedto keep her cabin porthole closed at night. Again and again a ray of lightwas projected through it upon the surface of the water and the quarter-master, whose duty it was to see that no lights were shown, was at hiswit's end. His difficulty was the greater because he could speak noEnglish, and she no French. Finally, a passenger took pity on the man, and, as the light was really a grave danger to the ship's safety, promisedto speak to the woman, who insisted that she was not afraid of submarinesand that it was foolish to think they could see her light. 

"Madam, " he said, "the quartermaster here tells me that the sea in thislocality is infested with flying fish, who, like moths, fly straight forany light, and he is afraid that if you leave your porthole open they willdive in upon you during the night. "

If he had said that the sea was infested with flying mice, his statementcould not have been more effective. Thereafter the porthole stayed closed. 

When the first man died on board, the Captain commanding the soldiers andthe ship's Captain requested a Salvation Army Adjutant to conduct thefuneral service. 

At 4. 30 P. M. The ship's propeller ceased to turn and the steamer came upinto the wind. The United States destroyer acting as convoy also came to ahalt. The French flag on the steamer and the American flag on thedestroyer were at half-mast. Thirty-two men from the dead man's companylined up on the after-deck. The coffin (a rough pine box), heavilyweighted at one end, lay across the rail over the stern. Here a chute hadbeen rigged so that the coffin might not foul the ship's screws. The flagsremained at half-mast for half an hour. The Salvation Army Adjutant readthe burial service and prayed. Passengers on the promenade deck looked on. Then a bugler played taps. Every soldier stood facing the stern with hatoff and held across the breast. As the coffin slipped down the chute andsplashed into the sea a firing squad fired a single rattling volley. Theship came about and, with a shudder of starting engines, continued hervoyage, the destroyer doing likewise. 

During the passage the Adjutant conducted six such funerals, two morebeing conducted by a Catholic priest. Four more bodies of men who died asthey neared port were landed and buried ashore. 

In the hospital the Envoy was undoubtedly the means of saving severallives by her endless toil and by the encouragement of her cheerful face inthat depressing place. The sick men called her "Mother" and no mothercould have been more tender than she. 

"You look so much like mother, " said one boy just before he died. "Won'tyou please kiss me?"

Another lad, with a great, convulsive effort, drew her hand to his lipsand kissed her just as he passed away. 

All of the American officers and two French officers attended the funeralsin full dress uniform and ten sailors of the French navy were alsopresent. 

The night before the ship docked at Bordeaux a letter signed by theCaptain of the ship and the American officers was handed to the Envoylady. It contained a warm statement of their appreciation of her service. Officers of the Aviation Corps who were aboard the ship arranged a banquetto be held in her honor when they should reach port; but she told themthat she was under orders even as they were and that she must report toParis Headquarters at once. And so the banquet did not take place. 

As she left the ship, the soldiers were lined up on the wharf ready tomarch. When she came down the gangplank and walked past them to thestreet, they cheered her and shouted: "Good-bye, mother! Good luck!"

As the fame of the doughnuts and pies spread through the camps a newdistress loomed ahead for the Salvation Army. Where were the flour and thesugar and the lard and the other ingredients to come from wherewith toconcoct these delicacies for the homesick soldiers?

It was of no use to go to the French for white flour, for they did nothave it. They had been using war bread, dark mixtures with barley flourand other things, for a long time. Besides, the French had a fixed ideathat everyone who came from America was made of money. Wood was thirty-five dollars a load (about a cord) and had to be cut and hauled by thepurchaser at that. There was a story current throughout the camps thatsome Frenchmen were talking together among themselves, and one asked therest where in the world they were going to get the money to rebuild theirtowns. "Oh, " replied another; "haven't we the only battlefields in theworld? All the Americans will want to come over after the war to see themand we will charge them enough for the sight to rebuild our villages!"

But even at any price the French did not have the materials to sell. Therewas only one place where things of that sort could be had and that wasfrom the Americans, and the question was, would the commissary allow themto buy in large enough quantities to be of any use? The Salvation Armyofficers as they went about their work, were puzzling their brains how toget around the American commissary and get what they wanted. 

Meantime, the American Army had slipped quietly into Montiers in the nightand been billeted around in barns and houses and outhouses, and anywherethey could be stowed, and were keeping out of sight. For the German HighCouncil had declared: "As soon as the American Army goes into camp we willblow them off the map. " Day after day the Germans lay low and watched. Their airplanes flew over and kept close guard, but they could find nosign of a camp anywhere. No tents were in sight, though they searched thelandscape carefully; and day after day, for want of something better to dothey bombarded Bar-le-Duc. Every day some new ravishment of the beautifulcity was wrought, new victims buried under ruins, new terror anddestruction, until the whole region was in panic and dismay. 

Now Bar-le-Duc, as everyone knows, is the home of the famous Bar-le-Ducjam that brings such high prices the world over, and there were greatquantities stored up and waiting to be sold at a high price to Americansafter the war. But when the bombardment continued, and it became evidentthat the whole would either be destroyed or fall into the hands of theGermans, the owners were frightened. Houses were blown up, burying wholefamilies. Victims were being taken hourly from the ruins, injured ordying. 

A Salvation Army Adjutant ran up there one day with his truck and found anawful state of things. The whole place was full of refugees, familiesbereft of their homes, everybody that could trying to get out of the city. Just by accident he found out that the merchants were willing to selltheir jam at a very reasonable price, and so he bought tons and tons ofBar-le-Duc jam. That would help out a lot and go well on bread, for ofcourse there was no butter. Also it would make wonderful pies and tarts ifone only had the flour and other ingredients. 

As he drove into Montiers he was still thinking about it, and there on thetable in the Salvation Army hut stood as pretty a chocolate cake as onewould care to see. A bright idea came to the Adjutant:

"Let me have that cake, " said he to the lassie who had baked it, "and I'lltake it to the General and see what I can do. "

It turned out that the cake was promised, but the lassie said she wouldbake another and have it ready for him on his return trip; so in a fewdays when he came back there was the cake. 

Ah! That was a wonderful cake!

The lassie had baked it in the covers of lard tins, fourteen inches acrossand five layers high! There was a layer of cake, thickly spread with richchocolate frosting, another layer of cake, overlaid with the translucentBar-le-Duc jam, a third layer of cake with chocolate, another layer spreadwith Bar-le-Duc jam, then cake again, the whole covered smoothly over withthick dark chocolate, top and sides, down to the very base, without aripple in it. It was a wonder of a cake!

With shining eyes and eager look the Adjutant took that beautiful cake, took also twelve hundred great brown sugary doughnuts, and a dozenfragrant apple pies just out of the oven, stowed them carefully away inhis truck, and rustled off to the Officers' Headquarters. Arrived there hetook his cake in hand and asked to see the General. An officer with hiseye on the cake said the General was busy just now but he would carry thecake to him. But the Adjutant declined this offer firmly, saying: "Theladies of Montiers-sur-Saulx sent this cake to the General, and I must putit into his hands"

He was finally led to the General's room and, uncovering the great cake, he said:

"The Salvation Army ladies of Montiers-sur-Saulx have sent this cake toyou as a sample of what they will do for the soldiers if we can get flourand sugar and lard. "

The General, greatly pleased, took the cake and sent for a knife, whilehis officers stood about looking on with much interest. It appeared as ifevery one were to have a taste of the cake. But when the General had cut agenerous slice, held it up, observing its cunning workmanship, itstranslucent, delectable interior, he turned with a gleam in his eye, looked about the room and said: "Gentlemen, this cake will not be servedtill the evening's mess, and I pity the gentlemen who do not eat with theofficer's mess, but they will have to go elsewhere for their cake. "

The Adjutant went out with his pies and doughnuts and distributed themhere and there where they would do the most good, getting on the rightside of the Top Sergeant, for he had discovered some time ago that evenwith the General as an ally one must be on the right side of the "oldSarge" if one wanted anything. While he was still talking with theofficers he was handed an order from the General that he should besupplied with all that he needed, and when he finally came out ofHeadquarters he found that seven tons of material were being loaded on hiscar. After that the Salvation Army never had any trouble in getting allthe material they needed. 

After the tents in Montiers were all settled and the work fully started, the Staff-Captain and his helpers settled down to a pleasant littleschedule of sixteen hours a day work and called it ease; but that was notto he enjoyed for long. At the end of a week the Salvation Army Colonelswooped down upon them again with orders to erect a hut at once as thetents were only a makeshift and winter was coming on. He brought materialsand selected a site on a desirable corner. 

Now the corner was literally covered with fallen walls of a formerbuilding and wreckage from the last year's raid, and the patient workerslooked aghast at the task before them. But the Colonel would listen to noarguments. "Don't talk about difficulties, " he said, brushing aside a pleafor another lot, not quite so desirable perhaps, but much easier to clear. "Don't talk about difficulties; get busy and have the job over with!"

One big reason why the Salvation Army is able to carry on the greatmachinery of its vast organization is that its people are trained to obeywithout murmuring. Cheerfully and laboriously the men set to work. Winterrains were setting in, with a chill and intensity never to be forgotten byan American soldier. But wet to the skin day after day all day long theSalvationists worked against time, trying to finish the hut before thesnow should arrive. And at last the hut was finished and ready foroccupancy. Such tireless devotion, such patient, cheerful toil for theirsake was not to be passed by nor forgotten by the soldiers who watched andhelped when they could. Day after day the bonds between them and theSalvation Army grew stronger. Here were men who did not have to, and yetwho for the sake of helping them, came and lived under the same conditionsthat they did, working even longer hours than they, eating the same food, enduring the same privations, and whose only pay was their expenses. Atthe first the Salvationists took their places in the chow line with therest, then little by little men near the head of the line would give uptheir places to them, quietly stepping to the rear of the line themselves. Finally, no matter how long the line was the men with one consent insistedthat their unselfish friends should take the very head of the linewhenever they came and always be served first. 

One day one of the Salvation Army men swathed in a big raincoat wassitting in a Ford by the roadside in front of a Salvation Army hut, waiting for his Colonel, when two soldiers stopped behind him to lighttheir cigarettes. It was just after sundown, and the man in the car musthave seemed like any soldier to the two as they chatted. 

"Bunch of grafters, these Y. M. C. A. And Salvation Army outfits!" grumbledone as he struck a match. "What good are the 'Sallies' in a soldier camp?"

"Well, Buddy, " said the other somewhat excitedly, "there's a whole lot ofus think the Salvation Army is about it in this man's outfit. For a rookieyou sure are picking one good way to make yourself unpopular _tout desuite!_ Better lay off that kind of talk until you kind of find outwhat's what. I didn't have much use for them myself back in the States, but here in France they're real folks, believe me!"

So the feeling had grown everywhere as the huts multiplied. And the hutsproved altogether too small for the religious meetings, so that as long asthe weather permitted the services had to be held in the open air. It wasno unusual thing to see a thousand men gathered in the twilight around twoor three Salvation Army lassies, singing in sweet wonderful volume theold, old hymns. The soldiers were no longer amused spectators, bent onmischief; they were enthusiastic allies of the organization that wastheirs. The meeting was theirs. 

"We never forced a meeting on them, " said one of the girls. "We just letit grow. Sometimes it would begin with popular songs, but before long theboys would ask for hymns, the old favorites, first one, then another, always remembering to call for 'Tell Mother I'll Be There. '"

Almost without exception the boys entered heartily into everything thatwent on in the organization. The songs were perhaps at first only areminder of home, but scon they came to have a personal significance tomany. The Salvation Army did not hare movies and theatrical singers as didthe other organizations, but they did not seem to need them. The men likedthe Gospel meetings and came to them better than to anything else. Oftenthey would come to the hut and start the singing themselves, which wouldpresently grow into a meeting of evident intention. The Staff-Captain didnot long have opportunity to enjoy the new hut which he had labored sohard to finish at Montiers, for soon orders arrived for him to move on toHoudelainecourt to help put up the hut there, and leave Montiers in chargeof a Salvation Army Major. The Salvation Army was with the EighteenthInfantry at Houdelainecourt. 

It was an old tent that sheltered the canteen, and it had the reputationof having gone up and down five times. When first they put it up it blewdown. It was located where two roads met and the winds swept down in everydirection. Then they put it up and took it down to camouflage it. They gotit up again and had to take it down to camouflage it some more. Theregular division helped with this, and it was some camouflage when it wasdone, for the boys had put their initials all over it, and then, hadpainted Christmas trees everywhere, and on the trees they had put thepresents they knew they never would get, and so in all the richness of itsrecord of homesickness the old tent went up again. They kept warm here bymeans of a candle under an upturned tin pail. The tent blew down again ina big storm soon after that and had to be put up once more, and then therecame a big rain and flooded everything in the neighborhood. It blew downand drowned out the Y. M. C. A. And everything else, and only the old tentstood for awhile. But at last the storm was too much for it, too, and itsuccumbed again. 

After that the Salvation Army put up a hut for their work. A number ofsoldiers assisted. They put up a stove, brought their piano andphonograph, and made the place look cheerful. Then they got the regimentalband and had an opening, the first big thing that was recognized by themilitary authorities. The Salvation Army Staff-Captain in charge of thatzone took a long board and set candles on it and put it above the platformlike a big chandelier. The Brigade Commander was there, and a Captain cameto represent the Colonel. A chaplain spoke. The lassies who took part inthe entertainment were the first girls the soldiers had seen for manymonths. 

Long before the hour announced for the service the soldier boys hadcrowded the hutment to its greatest capacity. Game and reading tables hadbeen moved to the rear and extra benches brought in. The men stood threedeep upon the tables and filled every seat and every inch of standingroom. When there was no more room on the floor, they climbed to the roofand lined the rafters. There was no air and the Adjutant came to say therewas too much light, but none of these things damped the enthusiasm. 

With the aid of the regimental chaplain, the Staff-Captain had arranged asuitable program for the occasion, the regimental band furnishing themusic. 

When the General entered the hutment all of the men stood and uncoveredand the band stopped abruptly in the middle of a strain. "That's the worstthing I ever did--stopping the music, " he exclaimed ruefully. He refusedto occupy the chair which had been prepared for him, saying: "No, I wantto stand so that I can look at these men. "

The records of the work in that hut would be precious reading for thefathers and mothers of those boys, for the Fighting Eighteenth Infantryare mostly gone, having laid their young lives on the altar with so manyothers. Here is a bit from one lassie's letter, giving a picture of one ofher days in the hut:

 "Well, I must tell you how the days are spent. We open the hut at 7; itis cleaned by some of the boys; then at 8 we commence to serve cocoa andcoffee and make pies and doughnuts, cup cakes and fry eggs and make allkinds of eats until it is all you see. Well, can you think of two womencooking in one day 2500 doughnuts, 8 dozen cup cakes, 50 pies, 800pancakes and 225 gallons of cocoa, and one other girl serving it? That isa day's work in my last hut. Then meeting at night, and it lasts twohours. "

 A lieutenant came into the canteen to buy something and said to one ofthe girls: "Will you please tell me something? Don't you ever rest?" Thatis how both the men and officers appreciated the work of these tirelessgirls. 

Men often walked miles to look at an American woman. Once acquainted withthe Salvation Army lassies they came to them with many and strangerequests. Having picked a quart or so of wild berries and purchased from afarmer a pint of cream they would come to ask a girl to make a strawberryshortcake for them. They would buy a whole dozen of eggs apiece, andhaving begged a Salvation Army girl to fry them would eat the whole dozenat a sitting. They would ask the girls to write their love letters, or towrite assuring some mother or sweetheart that they were behavingthemselves. 

Soldiers going into action have left thousands of dollars in cash and invaluables in the care of Salvation Army officers to be forwarded topersons designated in case they are killed in action or taken prisoner. Insuch cases it is very seldom that a receipt is given for either money orvaluables. , so deeply do the soldiers trust the Salvation Army. 

One of the girl Captains wears a plain silver ring, whose intrinsic valueis about thirty cents, but whose moral value is beyond estimate. The ringis not the Captain's. It belongs to a soldier, who, before the war, hadbeen a hard drinker and had continued his habits after enlisting. He cameunder the influence of the Salvation Army and swore that he would drink nomore. But time after time he fell, each time becoming more desperate andmore discouraged. Each time the young lassie-Captain dealt with him. Afterthe last of his failures, while she was encouraging him to make anothertry, he detached the ring from the cord from which it had dangled aroundhis neck and thrust it at her. 

"It was my mother's, " he explained. "If you will wear it for me, I shallalways think of it when the temptation comes to drink, and the fact thatsomeone really cares enough about my worthless hide to take all of thetrouble you have taken on my behalf, will help me to resist it. "

"No one will misunderstand" he cried, seeing that the lassie was about todecline, "not even me. I shall tell no one. And it would help. "

"Very well, " agreed the girl, looking steadily at him for a moment, "butthe first time that you take a drink, off will come the ring! And you mustpromise that you will tell me if you do take that drink. "

The soldier promised. The lassie still wears the ring. The soldier isstill sober. Also he has written to his wife for the first time in fiveyears and she has expressed her delight at the good news. 

On more than one occasion American aviators have flown from their campsmany miles to villages where there were Salvation lassies and havereturned with a load of doughnuts. On one occasion a bird-man dropped anote down in front of the hut where two sisters were stationed, circlingaround at a low elevation until certain that the girls had picked up thenote, which stated that he would return the following afternoon for a messof doughnuts for his comrades. When he returned, the doughnuts were readyfor him. 

The Adjutant of the aerial forces attached to the American Fifth Armyaround Montfaucon on the edge of the Argonne Forest, before that forestwas finally captured at the point of American bayonets, drove almostseventy miles to the Salvation Army Headquarters at Ligny for supplies forhis men. He was given an automobile load of chocolate, candies, cakes, cookies, soap, toilet articles, and other comforts, without charge. Hesaid that he _knew_ that the Salvation Army would have what hewanted. 

The two lassies who were in Bure had a desperate time of it. Things weremost primitive. They had no store, just an old travelling field range, andfor a canteen one end of Battery F's kitchen. They were then attached tothe Sixth Field Artillery. This was the regiment that fired the first shotinto Germany. 

The smoke in that kitchen was awful and continuous from the old fieldrange. The girls often made doughnuts out-of-doors, and they gotchilblains from standing in the snow. All the company had chilblains, too, and it was a sorry crowd. Then the girls got the mumps. It was so coldhere, especially at night, they often had to sleep with their clothes on. There was only one way they could have meetings in that place and that waswhile the men were lined up for chow near to the canteen. They would startto sing in the gloomy, cold room, the men and girls all with theirovercoats on, and fingers so cold that they could hardly play theconcertina, for there was no fire in the big room save from the range atone end where they cooked. Then the girls would talk to them while theywere eating. Perhaps they did not call these meetings, but they were amighty happy time to the men, and they liked it. 

A minister who had taken six months' leave of absence from his church todo Y. M. C. A. Work in France asked one of the boys why he liked theSalvation Army girls and he said: "Because they always take time to cheerus up. It's true they do knock us mighty hard about our sins, but while ithurts they always show us a way out. " The minister told some one that ifhe had his work to do over again he would plan it along the lines of theSalvation Army work. 

You may hear it urged that one reason the boys liked the Salvation Armypeople so much was because they did not preach, but it is not so. Theypreached early and often, but the boys liked it because it was done sosimply, so consistently and so unselfishly, that they did not recognize itas preaching. 

In Menaucourt as Christmas was coming on some United States officersraised money to give the little refugee children a Christmas treat. Therewas to be a tree with presents, and good things to eat, and anentertainment with recitations from the children. The school-teacher wasteaching the children their pieces, and there was a general air ofdelightful excitement everywhere. It was expected that the affair was tobe held in the Catholic church at first, but the priest protested thatthis was unseemly, so they were at a loss what to do. The school-house wasnot large enough. 

The Salvation Army Staff-Captain found this out and suggested to theofficers that the Salvation Army hut was the very place for such agathering. So the tree was set up, and the officers went to town andbought presents and decorations. They covered the old hut with boughs andflags and transformed it into a wonderland for the children. The officerswere struggling helplessly with the decorations of the tree when theSalvation Army man happened in and they asked him to help. 

"Why, sure!" he said heartily. "That's my regular work!" So they eagerlyput it into his hands and departed. The Staff-Captain worked so hard at itand grew go interested in it that he forgot to go for his chow at lunch-time, and when supper-time came the hall was so crowded and there was somuch still to be done that he could not get away to get his supper. But itwas a grand and glorious time. The place was packed. There were twoAmerican Colonels, a French Colonel, and several French officers. Thesoldiers crowded in and they had to send them out again, poor fellows, tomake room for the children, but they hung around the doors and windowseager to see it all. 

The regimental band played, there were recitations in French and a goodtime generally. 

The seats were facing the canteen where the supplies were all stockedneatly, boxes of candy and cakes and good things. The Colonel in charge ofthe regiment looked over to them wistfully and said to the Staff-Captain:"Are you going to sell all those things?" The Staff-Captain, with quickappreciation, said: "No, Colonel, Christmas comes but once a year andthere's a present up there for you. " And the Colonel seemed as pleased asthe children when the Staff-Captain handed him a big box of candy all tiedup in Christmas ribbons. 

In the huts, phonographs are never silent as long as there is a singlesoldier in the place. One night two of the Salvation Army girls, who sleptin the back room of a certain hut, had closed up for the night andretired. They were awakened by the sound of the phonograph, and wonderedhow anyone got into the hut and who it might happen to be. They were alittle bit nervous, but went to investigate. They found that a soldier onguard had raised a window, and although this did not allow him room toenter the hut, he was able to reach the table where the phonograph stood. He had turned the talking machine around so that it faced the window, and, placing a record in position, had started it going. He was leaning upagainst the outer wall of the hut, smoking a cigarette in the moonlight, and enjoying his concert. The girls returned to bed without disturbing theaudience. 

One of the most popular French confections sold in the huts was a varietyof biscuits known under the trade name of "Boudoir Biscuits" One day asoldier entered a hut and said: "Say, miss, I want some of them there-themthere--Dang me if I can remember them French names!--them there (suddenlya great light dawned)--some of them there bedroom cookies. " And the lassiegot what he wanted. 

The Salvation Army men who worked among the soldiers in advanced positionsfrom which all women are barred are among the heroes of the war. Hereduring the day they labored in dugouts far below the shell-tortured earth, often going out at night to help bring in the wounded; always in dangerfrom shells and gas; some with the ammunition trains; others drivingsupply trucks; still others attached to units and accompanying thefighting men wherever they went, even to the active combat of the firingtrench and the attack. These are unofficial chaplains. Such a one was "LaPetit Major, " as the soldiers called him, because of his smallness ofstature. 

The Little Major commenced his service in the field with the Twenty-sixthInfantry, First Division, at Menaucourt. Soon he was transferred tocommand the hut at Boviolles. At this place was the battalion of theTwenty-sixth Infantry, commanded by Major Theodore Roosevelt. His brother, Captain Archie Roosevelt, commanded a company in this battalion. He wasfor the greater part of the time alone in the work at Boviolles. 

By his consistent life and character and his willingness to serve both menand officers, he won their esteem. 

When they left the training area for the trenches the Major was requestedto go with them. He turned the key in the canteen door and went off withthem across France and never came back, establishing himself in the front-line trenches with the men and acting as unofficial chaplain to thebattalion. 

There is an interesting incident in connection with his introduction toMajor Roosevelt's notice. 

For some reason the Salvation Army had been made to feel that they werenot welcome with that division. But the Little Major did not give up likethat, and he lingered about feeling that somehow there was yet to be awork for him there. 

A young private from a far Western state, a fellow who, according to allreports, had never been of any account at home, was convicted of a mosthorrible murder and condemned to die by hanging because the commandingofficer said that shooting was too good for him. 

He accepted his fate with sullen ugliness. He would not speak to anyoneand he was so violent that they had to put him in chains. No one could doanything with him. He had to be watched day and night; and it was awful tosee him die this way with his sin unconfessed. Many attempts were made tobreak through his silence, but all to no effect. Several chaplains visitedhim, but he would have nothing to do with them. 

On the morning of his execution, to the surprise of everybody he said thathe had heard that there was a Salvation Army man around, and he would liketo see him. The authorities sent and searched everywhere for the LittleMajor, and some thought he must have left, but they found him at last andhe came at once to the desperate man. 

The criminal sat crouched on his hard bench, chained hand and foot. He didnot look up. He was a dreadful sight, his brutal face haggard, unshaven, his eyes bloodshot, his whole appearance almost like some low animal. Through the shadowy prison darkness the Little Major crept to thosechains, those symbols of the man's degradation; and still the man did notlook up. 

"You must be in great trouble, brother. Can I help you any?" asked theLittle Major with a wonderful Christ-like compassion in his voice. 

The man lifted his bleared eyes under the shock of unkempt hair, andspoke, startled:

"You call me brother! You know what I'm here for and you call me brother!Why?"

The Little Major's voice was steady and sweet as he replied withouthesitation:

"Because I know a great deal about the suffering of Christ on the Cross, all because He loved you so! Because I know He said He was wounded foryour transgressions, He was bruised for your iniquities! Because I know Hesaid, 'Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow, though they be red like crimson they shall be as wool!' So why shouldn't Icall you brother?"

"Oh, " said the man with a groan of agony and big tears rolling down hisface. "Could I be made a better man?"

Then they went down on their knees together beside the hard bench, the manin chains and the man of God, and the Little Major prayed such a wonderfulprayer, taking the poor soul right to the foot of the Throne; and in a fewminutes the man was confessing his sin to God. Then he suddenly looked upand exclaimed:

"It's true, what you said! Christ has pardoned me! Now I can die like aman!"

With that great pardon written across his heart he actually went to hisdeath with a smile upon his face. When the Chaplain asked him if he hadanything to say he publicly thanked the military authorities and theSalvation Army for what they had done for him. 

The Colonel, greatly surprised at the change in the man, sent to find outhow it came about and later sent to thank the Little Major. Two days laterMajor Roosevelt came in person to thank him:

"I knew that someone who knew how to deal with men had got hold of him, "he said, "but I almost doubted the evidence of my own eyes when I saw howcheerfully he went to his death, it all seemed too wonderful!"

The little Major was with this battalion in all of its engagements, and onseveral occasions went over the top with the men and devoted himself tofirst aid to the wounded and to bringing the men back to the dressingstation on stretchers. Between the times of active engagements, the Majorgave himself to supplying the needs of the men and made daily trips out ofthe trenches to obtain newspapers, writing material, and to performerrands which they could not do for themselves. 

One of the lieutenants said of him: "He is worth more than all thechaplains that were ever made in the United States Army. He will walkmiles to get the most trivial article for either man or officer. The menknow that he loves them or he would not go into the trenches with them, for he does not have to go. You can tell the world for me that he is areal man!"

One of the fellows said of him he had seen him take off his shoes andbring away pieces of flesh from the awful blisters got from much tramping. 

The men soon learned to love their gray haired Salvation Army comrade. When an enemy attack was to be met with cold steel he was the first tofollow the company officers "over the top, " to cheer and encourage theonrushing Americans in the anxious semi-calm which follows the lifting ofa barrage. A non-combatant, unarmed and fifty-three years of age, he wasalways in the van of the fierce onslaught with which our men repulsed theenemy, ready to pray with the dying or help bring in the wounded, andalways fearless no matter what the conditions. By his unfearing heroism aswell as his willingness to share the hardships and dangers of the men, heso won their confidence that it was frequently said that they would not gointo battle except the Major was with them. The men would crouch aroundhim with an almost fantastic confidence that where he was no harm couldcome. Knowing that many earnest Christian people were praying for hissafety and having seen how safely he and those with him had come throughdangers, they thought his very presence was a protection. Who shall saythat God did not stay on the battlefield living and speaking through theLittle Major?

When the first division was moved from the Montdidier Sector he travelledwith the men as far as they went by train. When they detrained and marchedhe marched with them, carrying his seventy pound pack as any soldier did. He was by the side of Captain Archie Roosevelt when he received a verydangerous wound from an exploding shell, and was in the battle of Cantignyin the Montdidier Sector, where his company lost only two men killed andfour wounded, while other companies' losses were much more severe. 

Protestant, Catholic and Jew were all his friends. One Catholic boy camecrawling along in the waist-deep trench one day to tell the Major abouthis spiritual worries. After a brief talk the Major asked him if he hadhis prayer book. The boy said yes. "Then take it out and read it, " saidthe Major. "God is here!" And there in the narrow trench with loweredheads so that the snipers could not see them, they knelt together and readfrom the Catholic prayer book. 

In one American attack the Little Major followed the Lieutenant over thetop just as the barrage was lifted. The Lieutenant looking back saw himstruggling over the crest of the parapet, laughed and shouted: "Go back, Major, you haven't even a pistol!" But the Major did not go back. He wentwith the boys. "I have no hesitancy in laying down my life, " he once said, "if it will help or encourage anyone else to live in a better or cleanerway. "

He was always striving for the salvation of his boys, and in his meetingsmen would push their way to the front and openly kneel before theircomrades registering their determination to live in accordance with theteachings of Jesus. One tells of seeing him kneel beside an empty cratewith three soldiers praying for their souls. 

It was because of all these things that the men believed in him and in hisGod. He used to say to the men in the meetings, "We are not afraid becausewe have a sense of the presence of God right here with us!"

One night the battalion was "in" after a heavy day's work strengtheningthe defenses and trying to drain the trenches, and the men were asleep inthe dugouts. The Major lay in his little chicken-wire bunk, just drowsingoff, while the water seeped and dripped from the earthen roof, and therats splashed about on the water covered floor. 

Across from him in a bunk on the other side of the dugout tossed a boy inhis damp blankets who had just come to the front. He was only eighteen andit was his first night in the line. It had been a hard day for him. Theshells screamed overhead and finally one landed close somewhere and rockedthe dugout with its explosion. The old-timers slept undisturbed, but theboy started up with a scream and a groan, his nerves a-quiver, and criedout: "Oh, Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

The Little Major was out and over to him in a flash, and gathered the boyinto his arms, soothing him as a mother might have done, until he wascalmed and strengthened; and there amid the roaring of guns, the screamingof shells, the dripping of water and splashing of rats, the youngest ofthe battalion found Christ. 

An old soldier came down from the front and a Salvationist asked him if heknew the Little Major. 

"Well, you just bet I know the Major--sure thing!" And the Major is alwayson hand with a laugh and his fun-making. In the trenches or in the towns, where the shells are flying, the Little Major is with his boys. No wordsof mine could express the admiration the boys have for him. The boys lovehim. He calls them "Buddie. " They salute and are ready to do or die. Thelast time I saw him he had hiked in from the trenches with the boys. Hecarried a heavy "war baby" on his back and a tin hat on his head. He wastired and footsore, but there was that laugh, and before he got his packoff he jabbed me in the ribs. "No, sir, we can't get along without ourMajor!" So says "Buddie. "

 A request came from a chaplain to open Salvation Army work near hisdivision. The Brigade Commander was most favorable to the suggestion untilhe learned that the Salvation Army would have women there and thatreligious meetings would be conducted. As this was explained the General'smanner changed and he declared he did not know that the work was to becarried on in this way; that he did not favor the women in camps, or anyreligion, but thought it would make the soldier soft, and the business ofthe soldier was to kill, to kill in as brutal a manner as possible; and tokill as many of the enemy as possible; and he did not propose to have anywork conducted in the camps or any influence on his soldiers that wouldtend to soften them. 

He ordered them, therefore, not to extend the work of the Salvation Armywithin his brigade. It was explained to him that Demange was now withinthe territory named. He appeared to be put out that the Salvation Army wasalready established in his district, but said that if they behavedthemselves they could go on, but that they must not extend. 

He reported the matter to the Divisional Headquarters and an investigationof the Salvation Army activities was ordered. A major who was a Jew wasappointed to look into the matter. During the next two weeks he talkedwith the men and officers and attended Salvation Army meetings. Theleaders, of course, knew nothing about this, but they could not haveplanned their meetings better if they had known. It seemed as though Godwas in it all. At the end of two weeks there came a written communicationfrom the General stating that after a thorough examination of theSalvation Army work he withdrew his objections and the Salvation Army wasfree to extend operations anywhere within his brigade. 

The Salvation Army hut was a scene of constant activity. 

At one place in a single day there was early mass, said by the Catholicchaplain, later preaching by a Protestant chaplain, then a Jewish service, followed by a company meeting where the use of gas masks was explained. All this, besides the regular uses of the hut, which included a library, piano, phonograph, games, magazines, pies, doughnuts and coffee; the pieline being followed by a regular Salvation Army meeting where men raisedtheir hands to be prayed for, and many found Christ as their Saviour. 

It was in an old French barracks that they located the Salvation Armycanteen in Treveray. One corner was boarded off for a bedroom for thegirls. There were windows but not of glass, for they would have soon beenshattered, and, too, they would have let too much light through. They werecanvas well camouflaged with paint so that the enemy shells would not beattracted at night, and, of course, one could not see through them. 

Inside the improvised bedroom were three little folding army cots, a boardtable, a barrack bag and some boxes. This was the only place where thegirls could be by themselves. On rainy days the furniture was supplementedby a dishpan on one cot, a frying-pan on another, and a lard tin on thethird, to catch the drops from the holes in the roof. The opposite cornerof the barracks was boarded off for a living-room. In this was a fieldrange and one or two tables and benches. 

The rest of the hut was laid out with square bare board tables. Thecanteen was at one end. The piano was at one side and the graphophone atthe other. Sometimes in places like this, the hut would be too near thefront for it to be thought advisable to have a piano. It was too liable tobe shattered by a chance shell and the management thought it unwise to putso much money into what might in a moment be reduced to worthlesssplinters. Then the boys would come into the hut, look arounddisappointedly and say: "No piano?"

The cheerful woman behind the counter would say sympathetically: "No, boys, no piano. Too many shells around here for a piano. "

The boys would droop around silently for a minute or two and then go off. In a little while back they would come with grim satisfaction on theirfaces bearing a piano. 

"Don't ask us where we got it, " they would answer with a twinkle in replyto the pleased inquiry. "This is war! We salvaged it!"

Around the room on the tables were plenty of magazines, books and games. Checkers was a favorite game. No card playing, no shooting crap. Thecanteen contained chocolate, candy, writing materials, postage stamps, towels, shaving materials, talcum powder, soap, shoestrings, handkerchiefsin little sealed packets, buttons, cootie medicine and other likearticles. The Salvation Army did not sell nor give away either tobacco orcigarettes. In a few cases where such were sent to them for distributionthey were handed over to the doctors for the badly wounded in thehospitals or the very sick men accustomed to their use, who were almostinsane with their nerves. They also procured them from the Red Cross forwounded men, sometimes, who were fretting for them, but they never were apart of their supplies and far from the policy of the Salyation Army. Furthermore, the Salvation Army sent no men to France to work for them whosmoked or used tobacco in any form, or drank intoxicating liquors. No mancan hold a commission in the Salvation Army and use tobacco! It is aremarkable fact that the boys themselves did not want the Salvation Armylassies to deal in cigarettes because they knew it would be going againsttheir principles to do so. 

Occasionally a stranger would come into the canteen and ask for a packageof cigarettes. Then some soldier would remark witheringly: "Say, where doyou come from? Don't you know the Salvation Army don't handle tobacco?"

The men were always deeply grateful to get talcum powder for use aftershaving. It seemed somehow to help to keep up the morale of the army, thattalcum powder, a little bit of the soothing refinement of the home thatseemed so far away. 

To this hut whenever they were at liberty came Jew and Gentile, Protestantand Catholic, rich and poor. War is a great leveler and had swept away alldifferences. They were a great brotherhood of Americans now, ready, ifnecessary, to die for the right. 

To one of the huts came a request from the chaplain of a regiment whichwas about to move from its temporary billet in the next village. The menhad not been so fortunate as to be stationed at a town where there was aSalvation Army hut and it had been over four months since they had tastedanything like cake or pie. Would the Salvation Army lassies be so good asto let them have a few doughnuts before they moved that night? If so thechaplain would call for them at five o'clock. 

The lassies worked with all their might and fried thirty-five hundreddoughnuts. But something happened to the ambulance that was to take themto the boys, and over an hour was lost in repairs. Back at the camp theboys had given up all hope. They were to march at eight o'clock andnothing had been heard of the doughnuts. Suddenly the truck dashed intoview, but the boys eyed it glumly, thinking it was likely empty after allthis time. However, the chaplain held up both hands full of golden brownbeauties, and with a wild shout of joy the men sprang to "attention" asthe ambulance drew up, and more soldiers crowded around. The villagersrushed to their doors to see what could be happening now to those crazyAmerican soldiers. 

When the chaplain stood up in the car flinging doughnuts to them andshouting that there were thousands, enough for everybody, the enthusiasmof the soldiers knew no bounds. The girls had come along and now theybegan to hand out the doughnuts, and the crowd cheered and shouted as theyfiled up to receive them. And when it came time for the girls to return totheir own village the soldiers crowded up once more to say good-bye, andgive them three cheers and a "tiger. "

These same girls a few days before had fed seven hundred weary doughboyson their march to the front with coffee, hot biscuits and jam. 

In one of the Salvation Army huts one night the usual noisy cheerfulnesswas in the air, but apart from the rest sat a boy with a letter open onthe table before him and a dreamy smile of tender memories upon his face. Nobody noticed that far-away look in his eyes until the lassie in chargeof the hut, standing in the doorway surveying her noisy family, searchedhim out with her discerning eyes, and presently happened down his way andinquired if he had a letter. The boy looked up with a wonderful smile suchas she had never seen on his face before, and answered:

"Yes, it's from mother!" Then impulsively, "She's the nearest thing to GodI know!"

Mother seemed to be the nearest thought to the heart of the boys overthere. They loved the songs best that spoke about mother. One boy bought acan of beans at the canteen, and when remonstrated with by the lassie whosold them, on the ground that he was always complaining of having to eatso many beans, he replied: "Aw, well, this is different. These beans arethe kind that mother used to buy. "

In the dark hours of the early morning a boy who belonged to theammunition train sat by one of the little wooden tables in the hut, justafter he had returned from his first barrage, and pencilled on its top thefollowing words:

 Mother o' mine, what the words mean to me Is more than tongue can say; For one view to-night of your loving face, What a price I would gladly pay! The wonderful face . . . . . . Smiling still despite loads of care, Tis crowned by a silvering sheen. Your picture I carry next to my heart; With it no harm can befall. It has helped me to smile through many a care, Since I heeded my country's call. O mother who nursed me as a babe And prayed for me as a boy, Can I not show, now at man's estate, That you are my pride and joy? Good night! God guard you, way over the ocean blue, Your boy loves you and his dreams are bright, For he's dreaming of home and you. 

One of the letters that was written home for "Mother's Day" in response toa suggestion on the walls of the Salvation Army hut was as follows:

Dearest Little Mother of Mine:

They started a campaign to write to mother on this day, and, believe me, Ididn't have to be urged very hard. If I wrote you every time I think ofyou this war would go hang as far as I am concerned, for I think of youalways and there are hundreds of things that serve as an eternal reminder. 

Near our billet is one lone, scrubby little lilac bush that has a dozenblossoms, and it doesn't take much mental work to connect lilacs withmother. Then, too, the distant whistle of a train 'way down the valleyreminds me of how you would listen for the whistle of the Montreal trainon Saturday morning and then fix up a big feed for your boy to offset aweek of boarding-house grub. Those and many other things remind me manytimes a day of the one who bid me good-by with a smile and saved her tears'till she was home alone; who knit helmets, wristlets and sweaters to keepout the cold when she should have been sleeping; who (I'll bet a hat)didn't sleep one of the thirteen nights I was on the ocean, and who writesme cheerful, newsy letters when all others fail. 

And I appreciate all those things too, although I'm not much on showingaffection. I haven't always been as good to you as I ought, but I'm goingto make up by being the soldier and the man "me mudder" thinks I am. 

And when I come back home, all full of prunes and glory, we're going tohave the grandest time you ever dreamed of. We'll go joy riding, eatstrawberry shortcake and pumpkin pie, and have all the lilacs in theU. S. A. Wait till I walk down Main Street with you on my arm all fixed upin a swell dress and a new bonnet and me with a span new uniform, withsergeant-major's chevrons, about steen service stripes, a Mex. Campaignbadge and a Croix de Guerre (maybe), then you'll be glad your boy went tobe a soldier. 

I was on the road all of night before last and on guard last night and I'ma wee bit tired so I'm making this kinder short; but it's a littlereminder that the boy who is 5, 000 miles away is thinking, "I love you myma, " same as I always did. 

And, by gosh, don't forget about that pumpkin pie!

Good-night, mother of mine; your soldier boy loves you a whole dollar'sworth. 

 [Illustraion: "Here during the day they worked in dugouts far below theshell-tortured earth"]

[Illustration: They came to get their coats mended and their buttons sewedon]

[Illustration: "L'Hermitage, nestled in the heart of a deep woods, was noquiet refuge"]

[Illustraion: L'Hermitage, inside the tent. Several of these boys werekilled a few days after the picture was taken]

The Salvation Army hut was home to the boys over there. They came to it insorrow or joy. They came to ask to scrape out the bowl where the cakebatter had been stirred because mother used to let them do it; they cameto get their coats mended and have their buttons sewed on. Sometimes itseemed to the long-suffering, smiling woman who sewed them on, as if theyjust ripped them off so she could sew them on again; if so, she did notmind. They came to mourn when they received no word from home; and whenthe mail came in and they were fortunate they came first to the hut wavingtheir letter to tell of their good luck before they even opened it to readit. It is remarkable how they pinned their whole life on what theseconsecrated American women said to them over there. It is wonderful howthey opened their hearts to them on religious subjects, and how theyflocked to the religious meetings, seeming to really be hungry for them. 

Word about these wonderful meetings that the soldiers were attending insuch numbers got to the ears of another commanding officer, and one daythere came a summons for the Salvation Army Major in charge at Gondrecourtto appear before him. An officer on a motor cycle with a side car broughtthe summons, and the Major felt that it practically amounted to an arrest. There was nothing to do but obey, so he climbed into the side car and waswhirled away to Headquarters. 

The Major-General received him at once and in brusque tones informed himmost emphatically:

"We want you to get out! We don't want you nor your meetings! We are hereto teach men to fight and your religion says you must not kill. Look outthere!" pointing through the doorway, "we have set up dummies and teachour men to run their bayonets through them. You teach them the opposite ofthat. You will unfit my men for warfare!"

The Salvationist looked through the door at the line of straw dummieshanging in a row, and then he looked back and faced the Major-General fora full minute before he said anything. 

Tall and strong, with soldierly bearing, with ruddy health in the glow ofhis cheeks, and fire in his keen blue eyes, the Salvationist lookedsteadily at the Major-General and his indignation grew. Then the good oldScotch burr on his tongue rolled broadly out in protest:

"On my way up here in your automobile"--every word was slow and calm anddeliberate, tinged with a fine righteous sarcasm--"I saw three menentering your Guard House who were not capable of directing their ownsteps. They had been off on leave down to the town and had come homedrunk. They were going into the Guard House to sleep it off. When theycome out to-morrow or the next day with their limbs trembling, and theireyes bloodshot and their heads aching, do you think they will be fit forwarfare?

"You have men down there in your Guard House who are loathsome with vilediseases, who are shaken with self-indulgence, and weakened with all kindsof excesses. Are they fit for warfare?

"Now, look at me!"

He drew himself up in all the strength of his six feet, broad shoulders, expanded chest, complexion like a baby, muscles like iron, and compelledthe gaze of the officer. 

"Can you find any man--" The Salvationist said "mon" and the soft Scotchsound of it sent a thrill down the Major-General's back in spite of hisopposition. "Can you find any mon at fifty-five years who can follow thesein your regiment, who can beat me at any game whatever?"

The officer looked, and listened, and was ashamed. 

The Major rose in his righteous wrath and spoke mighty truths clothed insimple words, and as he talked the tears unbidden rolled down the Major-General's face and dropped upon his table. 

"And do you know, " said the Salvationist, afterward telling a friend inearnest confidence, "do you _know_, before I left we _had prayertogether!_ And he became one of the best friends we have!"

Before he left, also, the Major-General signed the authority which gavehim charge of the Guard Houses, so that he might talk to the men or holdmeetings with them whenever he liked. This was the means of opening up anew avenue of work among the men. 

The Scotch Major had a string of hospitals that he visited in addition tohis other regular duties. He knew that the men who are gassed lose alltheir possessions when their clothes are ripped off from them. So thisSalvationist made a delightful all-the-year-round Santa Claus out ofhimself: dressing up in old clothes, because of the mud and dirt throughwhich he must pass, he would sling a pack on his back that would put toshame the one Old Santa used to carry. Shaving things and soap andtoothbrushes, handkerchiefs and chocolate and writing materials. How theywelcomed him wherever he came! Sick men, Protestants, Jews, Catholics. Hetalked and prayed with them all, and no one turned away from his kindlymessages. 

Six miles from Neufchauteul is Bazoilles, a mighty city of hospital tentsand buildings, acres and acres of them, lying in the valley. Whenever thisman heard the rumbling of guns and knew that something was doing, he tookhis pack and started down to go the rounds, for there were always menthere needing him. 

Then he would hold meetings in the wards, blessed meetings that thewounded men enjoyed and begged for. They all joined in the singing, eventhose who could not sing very well. And once it was a blind boy who askedthem to sing "Lead Kindly Light Amid the Encircling Gloom, Lead Thou MeOn. "

One Sunday afternoon two Salvation Army lassies had come with their Majorto hold their usual service in the hospital, but there were so manywounded coming in and the place was so busy that it seemed as if perhapsthey ought to give up the service. The nurses were heavy-eyed with fatigueand the doctors were almost worked to death. But when this was suggestedwith one accord both doctors and nurses were against it. "The boys wouldmiss it so, " they said, "and we would miss it, too. It rests us to hearyou sing. "

After the Bible reading and prayer a lassie sang: "There Is Sunshine in MyHeart To-day, " and then came a talk that spoke of a spiritual sunshinethat would last all the year. The song and talk drifted out to anotherlittle ward where a doctor sat beside a boy, and both listened. As thephysician rose to go the wounded boy asked if he might write a letter. 

The next day the doctor happened to meet the lassie who sang and told herhe had a letter that had been handed to him for censorship that he thoughtshe would like to see. He said the writer had asked him to show it to her. This was the letter:

 Dear Mother: You will be surprised to hear that I am in the hospital, butI am getting well quickly and am having a good time. But best of all, someSalvation Army people came and sang and talked about sunshine, and whilethey were talking the sunshine came in through my window--not into my roomalone, but into my heart and life as well, where it is going to stay. Iknow how happy this will make you. 

 The hospital work was a large feature of the service performed by theSalvation Army. In every area this testimony comes from both doctors, nurses and wounded men. Yet it was nothing less than a pleasure for theworkers to serve those patient, cheerful sufferers. 

A lassie entered a ward one day and found the men with combs and tissuepaper performing an orchestra selection. They apologized for the noise, declaring that they were all crazy about music and that was the only waythey could get it. 

"How would you like a phonograph?" she asked. 

"Oh, Boy! If we only had one! I'll tell the world we'd like it, " onedeclared wistfully. 

The phonograph was soon forthcoming and brought much pleasure. 

A lassie offered to write a letter for a boy whose foot had just beenamputated and whose right arm was bound in splints. He accepted her offereagerly, but said:

"But when you write promise me you won't tell mother about my foot. Sheworries! She wouldn't understand how well off I really am. Maybe you hadbetter let me try to write a bit myself for you to enclose. I guess Icould manage that. " So, with his left hand, he wrote the following:

Dearest Mother:--I am laid up in the hospital here with a very badlysprained ankle and some bruises, and will be here two or three weeks. Donot worry, I am getting along fine. Your loving Son. 

Two automobiles, an open car and a limousine, were maintained in Parisfor the sole purpose of providing outings for wounded men who were able totake a little drive. It was said by the doctors and nurses that nothinghelped a rapid recovery like these little excursions out into an every-daybeautiful world. 

A boy on one of the hospital cots called to a passing lassie:

"I am going to die, I know I am, and I'm a Catholic. Can you pray for me, Salvation Army girl, like you prayed for that fellow over there?"

The young lassie assured him that he was not going to die yet, but sheknelt by his cot and prayed for him, and soothed him into a sleep fromwhich he awoke refreshed to find that she was right, he was not going todie yet, but live, perhaps, to be a different lad. 

A sixteen-year-old boy who at the first declaration of war had run awayfrom home and enlisted was wounded so badly that he was ordered to go backto the evacuation hospital. He was determined that he could yet fight, andwas almost crying because he had to leave his comrades, but on the wayback he discovered the entrance to a German dugout and thought he heardsomeone down in there moving. 

"Come out, " he shouted, "or I'll throw in a hand grenade!"

A few minutes later he reached the evacuation hospital with thirtyprisoners of war, his useless arm hanging by his side. That is the kind ofstuff our American boys are made of, and those are the boys who arepraising the Salvation Army!

It was sunset at the Gondrecourt Officers' Training Camp. On the bigparade ground in back of the Salvation Army huts three companies werelined up for "Colors. " The sun was sinking into a black mass of stormclouds, painting the Western sky a dull blood red with here and there athread of gleaming gold etched on the rim of a cloud. Three Frenchchildren trudged sturdily, wearily, back from the distant fields wherethey had toiled all day. The elder girl pushed a wheelbarrow heavily ladenwith plunder from the fields. All bore farming implements, the size ofwhich dwarfed them by comparison. They had almost reached the end of thedrill ground when the military band blared out the opening notes of the"Star Spangled Banner, " and the flag slipped slowly from its high staff. Instantly the farming tools were dropped and the three childish figuresswung swiftly to "attention, " hands raised rigidly to the stiff Frenchsalute. So they stood until the last note had died. Then on they tramped, their backs all bent and weary, over the hill and down into the grey, evening-shadowed village of the valley. 

In a shell-marred little village at the American front, the Salvation Armyonce brought the United States Army to a standstill. Several hundredartillerymen had gathered for the regular Wednesday night religiousservice, held in the hutment, conducted by that organization at thispoint, and, in closing, sang vigorously three verses of "The Star SpangledBanner. " A Major who was passing came immediately to attention, hisexample being followed by all of the men and officers within hearing, andalso by a scattering of French soldiers who were just emerging from theCatholic church. By the time the second verse was well under way threecompanies of infantry, marching from a rest camp toward the front, hadalso come to a rigid salute, blocking the road to a quartermaster's supplytrain, who had, perforce, to follow suit. The "Star Spangled Banner" has adeeper meaning to the man who has done a few turns in the trenches. 

They had a pie-baking contest in Gondrecourt one day, where the renowned"Aunt Mary" was located, with her sweet face and sweeter heart. 

One of the other huts had baked two hundred and thirty-five pies in a day. The people in Gondrecourt believed they could do better than that, so theymade their preparations and set to work. 

The soldiers were all interested, of course. Who was to eat those pies?The more pies the merrier! The engineers had constructed a rack to holdthem, so that they might be easily counted without confusion. The soldiershad appointed a committee to do the counting with a representative fromthe cooks to be sure that everything went right. Even the officers andchaplain took an interest in it. 

This hut was in one of the largest American sectors. It was so wellpatronized that they used on an average fifty gallons of coffee everyevening and seventy-five or more gallons of lemonade every afternoon. Youcan imagine the pies and doughnuts that would find a welcome here. One daythey made twenty-seven hundred sugar cookies, and another day they friedeighteen hundred and thirty-six doughnuts, at the same time baking cakeand pies; but this time they were going to try to bake three hundred piesbetween the rising and setting of the sun. 

An army field oven only holds nine pies at a time, so every minute of theday had to be utilized. The fires were started very early in the morningand everything was ready for the girls to begin when the sun peeped overthe edge of the great battlefield. They sprang at their task as though itwere a delightful game of tennis, and not as though they had worked hardand late on the day before, and the many days before that. 

It was very hot in the little kitchen as the sun waxed high. An army rangenever tries to conserve its heat for the benefit of the cooks. In factthat kitchen was often used for a Turkish bath by some poor wet soldierswho were chilled to the bone. 

But the heat did not delay the workers. They flew at their task withfingers that seemed to have somehow borrowed an extra nimbleness. All daylong they worked, and the pies were marshalled out of the oven by nines, flaky and fragrant and baked just right. The rack grew fuller and fuller, and the soldiers watched with eager eyes and watering mouths. Now and thenone of the soldiers' cooks would put his head in at the door, ask how thescore stood, and shake his head in wonder. On and on they worked, mixing, rolling, filling, putting the little twists and cuts on the upper crust, and slipping in the oven and out again! Mixing, rolling, filling andbaking without any let-up, until the sun with a twinkle of glowingappreciation slipped regretfully down behind the hills of France again asif he were sorry to leave the fun, and the time was up. The committee gavea last careful glance over the filled racks and announced the final score, three hundred and sixteen pies, in shining, delectable rows!

By seven o'clock that evening the pie line was several hundred yards long. It was eleven o'clock when the last quarter of a pie went over thecounter, with its accompanying mug of coffee. Think what it was just tohave to cut and serve that pie, and make that coffee, after a long day'swork of baking!

One of the officers receiving his change after having paid for his pielooked at it surprisedly:

"And you mean to tell me that you girls work so hard for such a smallreturn? I don't see where you make any profit at all. "

"We don't work for profit, Captain, " answered the lassie. "I don't thinkany amount of money would persuade us to keep going as we have to here attimes. "

"You mean you sort of work for the joy of working?" he asked, puzzled. 

"I don't know what you mean, " responded the lassie pleasantly, "but whenwe are tired we look at the boys drilling in the sun and working early andlate. They are splendid and we feel we must do our part as unreservedly asthey do theirs. "

"No wonder my men have so many good things to say about the SalvationArmy!" said the Captain, turning to his companions. But as he went outinto the night his voice floated back in a puzzled sort of half-conviction, as if he were thinking out something more than had beenspoken:

"It takes more than patriotism to keep refined women working like that!"

These same girls were commissioned also to make frequent visits to thehospitals and talk with the sick soldiers. Often they read the Bible tothem, and many a man through these little talks has found the way ofeternal life. This in addition to their other work. 

One night after a meeting in the hut a lad wanted to come into the room atthe back and speak to one of the women about his soul. They knelt andprayed together, and the boy when he rose had a light of real happiness onhis face. But suddenly the happiness faded and he exclaimed:

"But I can't read!"

"Read? What do you mean?" asked the lassie. 

"My Bible. Nobody never learned me to read, and I can't read my Bible likeyou said in the meeting I should. "

The lassie thought for a minute, and then suggested that he come to thehut every morning just before first call and she would teach him a verseof scripture and read him a chapter. This meant that the lassie must risethat much earlier, but what of that for a servant of the King?

Just a month this program was carried out, and then came marching ordersfor the boy, but by this time he had a rich store of God's word safe inhis heart from the verses he had memorized. The last night when he came tosay good-bye he said to his teacher:

"Your kindness has meant a lot of trouble for you, miss, but for me it hasmeant life! Before, I was afraid to fight; but now I don't even feardeath. I know now that it can only mean a new life. Thank God for yourgoodness to me!"

There was one soldier who went by the name of Scoop. He had been areporter back in the States and learned to love drink. When he joined thearmy he did not give up his old habits. Whenever anybody remonstrated withhim he invariably replied gaily, "I'm out to enjoy life. " On pay-daysScoop celebrated by drinking more than ever. 

One day he happened into the Salvation Army hut. Whether the pie or thedoughnuts or the homeyness of the place first attracted him no one knows. He said it was the pie. Something held him there. He came every night. Thespirit of the Lord that lived and breathed in those consecrated men andgirls began to work in his heart and conscience, and speak to him ofbetter things that might even be for him. 

When he felt the desire for drink or gambling coming on he gave his moneyto the girls to keep for him. 

On the last pay-day before he was sent to another location he took apaint-brush and some paint and made a little sign which he set up in aprominent place in the hut, his silent testimony to what they had done forhim: "FOR THE FIRST TIME ON PAY-DAY SCOOP IS SOBER!"

One morning a lassie was frying some doughnuts in the Gondrecourt hut, another was rolling and cutting, and both were very busy when a soldiercame in with the mail. The girls went on with their work, though one couldeasily see that they were eager for letters. One was handed to the lassiewho was frying the doughnuts. When she opened it she found it was anofficial dispatch. The others saw the change of her expression and askedwhat was the matter, but she made no reply while tears started down hercheeks. She, however, went on frying doughnuts. The others asked againwhat was the trouble and for answer the girl handed them the opendispatch, which stated briefly that one of her three brothers, who wereall in the service, had been killed in action on the previous day. Theothers sympathetically tried to draw her away from her work, but she said:"No, nothing will help me to bear my sorrow like doing something forothers. " This is the spirit of the Salvation Army workers. Personalsorrows, personal feelings, personal difficulties, hardships, dangers, arenot allowed to interrupt their labors of love. Fortunately, it was laterdiscovered that this message about her brother was unfounded. 

A boy told this lassie one day that the next day was his birthday, and shesaw the homesickness and yearning in his eyes as he spoke. Immediately shetold him she would have a birthday party for him and bake a cake for it. 

She found some tiny candles in the village and placed nineteen upon thepretty frosted cake. They had to use a white bed-quilt for a tablecloth, and none of the cups and saucers matched, but the table looked very prettywhen it was set, with little white paper baskets of almonds which thegirls had made at each place, and all the candles lit on the white cake inthe middle. The boy brought three of his comrades, and there were theSalvation Army Major in charge and the lassies. They had a beautiful time. Of course it was quite a little extra work for the lassie, but whensomeone asked her why she took so much trouble she had a faraway look inher eyes, and said she guessed it was for the sake of the boy's mother, and those who heard remembered that her own three brothers were in UnitedStates uniform somewhere facing the enemy. 

There are several instances in which American soldiers coming from Britishand French Sectors, where they had been brigaded with armies of thosenations, have upon entering a Salvation Army hut for the first timewithout noticing the sign over the door started to talk to the girls inFrench--very fragmentary French at that. When they found the girls to beAmericans they were almost beside themselves with mingled feelings ofbashfulness and delight. Most of the soldiers exhibit the former trait. 

One boy approached one of our men officers. 

"Can them girls speak American?" he asked, pointing at the girls. 

On being assured that they could, he said: "Will they mind if I go up andspeak to them? I ain't talked to an American woman in seven months. "

Two soldiers were walking along the dusty roadway. 

First soldier: "Let's go to the Salvation Army hut. "

Second soldier: "No, I don't want to. "

First soldier: "They've got a piano and a phonograph and lots of records. "

Second soldier: "No, I don't want to. "

First soldier: "They've got books and _beaucoup_ games. "

Second soldier: "No, I don't want to. "

First soldier: "Two American ladies there!"

Second soldier: "No, I don't want to. "

First soldier: "They've got swell coffee and doughnuts!"

Second soldier (angrily): "No! I said NO!"

First soldier: "Aw, come on. They got real homemade pie!"

Second soldier: "I don't care!"

First soldier: "They cut their own wood and do their own work!"

Second soldier: "Well, that's different! Why didn't you say that rightoff, you bonehead? Come on. Where is it?"

And they entered the Salvation Army hut smiling. 

One dear Salvation Army lady had a little hand sewing machine which shetook about with her and wherever she landed she would sit down on anorange crate, put her machine on another and set up a tailor shop: sewingup rips; refitting coats that were too large; letting out a seam that wastoo tight; and helping the boys to be tidy and comfortable again. A goodmany of our boys lost their coats in the Soissons fight, and when they gotnew ones they didn't always fit, so this little sewing machine that wentto war came in very handy. Sometimes the owner would rip off the collar orrip out the sleeves, or almost rip up the whole coat and with her mouthfulof pins skillfully put it together again until it looked as if it belongedto the laddie who owned it. Then with some clever chalk marks replacingthe pins she would run it through her little machine, and off went anotherboy well-clothed. One week she altered more than thirty-three coats inthis way. The soldiers called her "mother" and loved to sit about and talkwith her while she worked. 

 The men went in battalions to the Luneville Sector for Trench Trainingfacing the enemy. Of course, the Salvation Army sent a detachment also. 

Over here they had to give up huts. No huts at all were allowed so nearthe front. No light of fire or even stove, no lights of any kind oreverything would be destroyed by shell fire at once. An order went outthat all huts near the front must be under ground. Yet neither did thisdaunt the faithful men and women whom God Himself had sent to help thoseboys at the front. 

The work was extended to other camps in the Gondrecourt area and finallythe time came for the troops to move up to the front to occupy part of asector. 

III. 

The Toul Sector

Headquarters of the First Division were established at Menil-la-Tour andthat of the First Brigade at Ansauville. Information came on leaving theGondrecourt Area, that the district would be abandoned to the French, sothe wooden hut at Montiers was moved and set up again at Sanzey, whichthen became the Headquarters of the First Ammunition Train. Huts wereestablished at Menil-la-Tour and other points in the Toul Sector. 

It took three days to erect the hut at Sanzey, but within an hour thefield range was set up, and a piece of tarpaulin stretched over it to keepthe rain off the girls and the doughnuts. 

Hour after hour the girls stood there making doughnuts, and hour afterhour the line moved slowly along waiting patiently for doughnuts. TheAdjutant went away a little while and returned to find some of the sameboys standing in line as when he left. Some had been standing five hours!It was the only pastime they had, just as soon as they were off duty, toline up again for doughnuts. 

The hut at Sanzey was used mostly by men of an Ammunition Train. As inother places where the Salvation Army huts catered to the American troops, an all-night service of hot coffee or chocolate and doughnuts or cookieswas provided for the men as they returned from their dangerous nightlytrips to the front. When men were killed their comrades usually broughtthem back and laid them in this hut until they could be buried. One nighta man was killed and brought back in this fashion. The chaplain washolding a service over his body in the hut. The Salvation Army man wastalking to the man who had been the dead lad's "buddie. " "I wish it was meinstead of him, Cap, " said this soldier, "he was his mother's oldest sonand she will take it hard. "

The Salvation Army was told that Ansauville was too far front for anywomen to be allowed to go. They felt, however, that it was advisable forwomen to be there and determined to bring it about if possible. Onscouting the town there was found no suitable place in any of thebuildings except one that was occupied as the General's garage. TheSalvation Army was not permitted to erect any additional buildings as itwas feared they would attract the fire of the Germans, for Ansauville waswell within the range of the German guns. 

After deciding that the General's garage was the only logical place forthem the Salvation Army representative called upon the General, who askedhim where he would propose establishing a hut. The Salvationist told himthe only suitable place in the town was that used by him as a garage. Heimmediately gave most gracious and courteous consent and ordered his aideto find another garage. 

The place in question was an old frame barn with a lofty roof which hadalready been partly shot away and was open to the sky. They were notpermitted to repair the roof because the German airplane observers wouldnotice it and know that some activity was going on there which would callfor renewed shell fire. However, the top of one of the circus tents waseasily run up in the barn so as to form a ceiling. 

Ansauville was between Mandres and Menil-la-Tour, not far from advancedpositions in the Toul Sector. Five hundred French soldiers had beenseverely gassed there the night before the Staff-Captain and his helperarrived, and every day people were killed on the streets by fallingshells. There was not a house in the village that had not suffered in someway from shell fire; very few had a door or a window left, and many wereutterly demolished. 

Approaching the town the roads were camouflaged with burlap curtainshanging on wires every little way, so that it was impossible to see downthe streets very far in either direction. There were signs here and there:"ATTENTION! THE ENEMY SEES YOU!"

About midnight the Staff-Captain and his officer arrived and after somedifficulty found the old barn that the Colonel had told them was to betheir hut, but to their dismay there were half a dozen cars parked inside, including the Commanding General's, and it looked as if it were being usedfor the Staff Garage. Looking up they could see the stars peeping throughthe shell holes in the tiled roof. It was the first time either of themhad been in a shelled town and the experience was somewhat awe-inspiring. Moreover they were both hungry and sleepy and the situation was by nomeans a cheerful one. They had a large tent and a load of supplies withthem and were at a loss where to bestow them. 

In the midst of their perturbation a courier arrived with a side car anddismounted. He stumbled in on them and peered at them through thedarkness. 

"As I live, it's the Salvation Army!" he cried joyfully, shaking handswith both of them at once. "All of the boys have been asking when you werecoming. Are you looking for a place to chow and sleep? There's no place intown for a billet, but we have a kitchen down the street. We can give yousome chow, and it's warm there. You can roll up in your blankets and sleepby the stove till morning. Come with me. "

The cook awakened them in the morning with his clatter of pots and pans inpreparation for breakfast. They arose and began to roll up their blanketpacks. 

"Don't worry about getting up yet, " said the chief cook kindly. "Sleep alittle longer. You are not in my way. " But the two men thanked him anddeclined to rest longer. 

"Where are you going to chow?" asked the chief cook. 

The Salvationists allowed that they didn't know. 

"Well, you boys line up with this outfit, see?" insisted the chief cook. "We eat three times a day and you're welcome to everything we have!"

This settled the question of board, and after a good breakfast the twostarted out to report to the General in command. 

He greeted them most kindly and made them feel welcome at once. 

When they asked about the barn he smiled pleasantly:

"That Colonel of yours is a fine fellow, " he said. "He told me that therewas only one place in this town that would do for your hut and that was mygarage. He said he was afraid he would have to ask me to move my car. Justas though my car were of more importance than the souls of my men!Gentlemen, you can have anything you want that is mine to give. The barnis yours! And if there's anything I can do, command me!"

It was a very dirty stable and needed a deal of cleaning, but the strongworkers bent to their task with willing hands, and soon had it in fineorder. There was no possibility of mending the roof, but they camouflagedthe old tent top and ran it up inside, and it kept the rain and snow offbeautifully. Of course, it was no protection against shells, but when theycommenced to arrive everybody departed in a hurry to the nearby dugouts, returning quietly when the firing had ceased. The nights were so cold thatthey had to sleep with all their clothes on, even their overcoats. Oftenin the mornings their shoes were frozen too stiff to put on until theywere thawed over a candle. One soldier broke his shoe in two trying tobend it one morning. Sometimes the men would sleep with their shoes insidetheir shirts to keep the damp leather from freezing. Two yards from thestove the milk froze!

A field range had been secured and the chimney extended up from the rooffor a distance of forty or fifty feet. It smoked terribly, but on thisrange was cooked many a savory meal and tens of thousands of doughnuts. 

Among the doughboys who loved to help around the Salvation Army hut was aquiet fellow who never talked much about himself, yet everybody liked himand trusted him. No one knew much about him, or where he came from, and henever told about his folks at home as some did. But he used to come infrom the trenches during the day and do anything he could to be usefularound the hut, which was run by two sisters. Even when he had to standwatch at night he would come back in the daytime and help. They could notpersuade him to sleep when he ought. Other fellows came and went, talkedabout their troubles and their joys, got their bit of sympathy or cheerand went their way, but this fellow came every day and worked silently, always on the job. They made him their chief doughnut dipper and he seemedto love the work and did it well. 

Then one day his company moved, and he came no more. The girls often askedif anyone knew anything about him, but no one did. Once in a while a briefnote would come from him up at the front in the trenches a few miles tothe north, but never more than a word of greeting. 

One morning the girls were making doughnuts, hard at work, and suddenlythe former chief doughnut dipper stumbled into the hut. He looked tiredand dusty and it was evident by the way he walked that he was footsore. 

"Gee! It's good to see you, " he said, sinking down in his old place by thestove. 

They gave him a cup of steaming coffee and all the doughnuts he could eatand waited for his story, but he did not begin. 

"Well, how are you?" asked one of the girls, hoping to start him. 

"Oh, all right, thanks, " he said meekly. 

"Where is your company?"

"Up the line in some woods. "

"How far is it?"

"About ten miles. "

The girls felt they were not getting on very fast in acquiringinformation. 

"Did you walk all that way in the dust and sun?"

"Most of it. Sometimes I was in the fields. "

"Were you on watch last night?"

"Ye-ah. "

"Then you didn't have any sleep?"

"No. "

"Why did you come over here then?"

"I wanted to see you. " There was a sound of a deep hunger in his voice. 

"Well, we're awfully glad to see you, surely. Is there anything we can dofor you?"

"No, Just let me look at you"-there was frank honesty in his eyes, a deepundertone of reverence in his voice, not even a hint of gallantry orflattery, only a loyal homage. 

"Just let me look at you--and----" he hesitated. 

"And what?" "And cook some doughnuts. "

"Why, of course!" said the girls cheerily, "but you must lie down andsleep awhile first. We'll fix a place for you. "

"I don't want to lie down, " said the soldier determinedly, "I don't wantto waste the time. "

"But it wouldn't be wasted. You need the sleep. "

"No, that isn't what I need. I want to look at you, " he reiterated. "I'vegot a wife and a little baby at home, and I love them. I like to be herebecause seeing you takes me back to them. This morning I knew I ought tosleep, but I just couldn't go over the top tonight without seeing youagain. That's why I want to see you and fry a few doughnuts for you. Ittakes me back to them. "

He finished with a far-away look in his eyes. He was not thinking whatimpression his words would make, his thoughts were with his wife andlittle baby. 

He worked around for a couple of hours, saying very little, but seemingquite content. Then he looked at his watch and said it was time to go, asit was quite a walk back to his company. Just so quietly he took his leaveand went out to take his chance with Death. 

The two girls thought much about him that night as they went about theirwork, and later lay down and tried to sleep, and their prayers went up forthe faithful soul who was doing his duty out there under fire, and for theanxious wife and little one who waited to know the outcome. Sleep did notcome soon to their eyes, as they lay in the darkness and prayed. 

"The next day about noon as the girls were dipping doughnuts the chiefdoughnut dipper stumbled once more into the hut, tired, dirty, dusty andworn, but with his eyes sparkling:

"Just thought I ought to come back and tell you I'm all right, " he said. "I was afraid you'd be worried. My wife and baby would, anyway. "

The girls received him with exultant smiles. "You go out there under thetrees and go to sleep!" they ordered him. 

"All right, I will, " he said. "I feel like sleeping now. Say, you don'tthink I'm crazy, do you? I just had to see you! It took me back to them!"

It was one of those chill rainy nights which have caused the winter of1917-1918 to be remembered with shudders by the men of the earlierAmerican Expeditionary Forces. A large part of the American forces werebilleted in the weathered, age-old little villages of the Gondrecourtarea. They slept in barns, haylofts, cowsheds and even in pig sties. Theroads were mere ditches running knee deep in sticky, clogging mud. Shoes, soaked through from the muddy road, froze as the men slept and in themorning had to be thawed out over a candle before they could be drawn on. Frequently men were late at roll-call simply because their shoes werefrozen so stiff that they were unable to don them, and their leggings soicy that they could not be wound. After sundown there were no lights, because lights invited air-raids and might well expose the position oftroops to the enemy observers. Only in towns where there were SalvationArmy or Y. M. C. A. Huts could men find any artificial warmth, during the dayor night, and only in these places were there any lights after nightfall. Such huts afforded absolutely the only available recreation facilities. But in countless villages where Americans were billeted there was not eventhis small comfort to be had. 

On this particular night, in such a village, an eighteen-year-old boy satin the orderly room of a regimental headquarters, which was housed in aonce pretentious but now sadly decrepit house. Rain leaked through thetiled roof and dribbled down into the room. Windows were long agoshattered and through cracks in the rude board barricades which hadreplaced the glass a rising wind was driving the rain. The boy sat at arough wooden table waiting orders. Two weeks previously a letter had come, saying that his mother was seriously ill. Since that he had had no furtherword. He was desperately homesick. There had been as yet none of thedanger and none of the thrill which seems to settle a man down, to theserious business of war. 

A passing soldier had just told him that in a village some twelvekilometers distant two Salvation Army women were operating a hut. Helonged desperately for the comfort of a woman of his own people and, sitting in the drafty, damp room, he wished that these two Salvationistswere not so far away--that he could talk with them and confide in them. Atlast the wish grew so strong that he could no longer resist it. 

He got up quietly, and silently slipped out into the rainy night. Thedarkness was so thick that he could not see objects six feet away. Walkingthrough the mud was out of the question. He stumbled down, the street, once falling headlong into a muddy puddle, finally reaching the horse-lines, where, saying that he had an errand for the Colonel, he saddled ahorse and slopped off into the night. 

For a while he kept to the road, his horse occasionally taking fright, asa truck passed clanking slowly in the opposite direction, or a staff carturned out to pass him like a fleeting, ghostly shadow. By following thetrees which lined the road at regular intervals he was fairly sure to keepthe road. He was very tired and soon began to feel sleepy, but the drivingstorm, which by this time had assumed the proportions of a tempest, stunghim to wakefulness. Once, at a cross-roads a Military Police stopped andquestioned him and gave him directions upon his saying that he wascarrying dispatches. 

He went on. He dozed, only to be sharply awakened by a truck which almostran him down. He must be more careful, he thought to himself, feelingutterly alone and miserable. But in spite of his resolution his eyes soonclosed again. He was awakened, this time by his horse stumbling over someunseen obstacle. He could see nothing in any direction. The blackness andrain shut him in like a fog. He turned at right angles to find the treeswhich lined the road, but there were no trees. He swung his horse aroundand went in the other direction, but he found no trees--only animpenetrable darkness which pressed in upon him with a heaviness whichmight almost have been weighed. He was lost--utterly lost. 

He guided his steed in futile circles, hoping to regain the road, but allto no avail. Fear of the night fell upon him. He was wet to the skin andchilled to the bone. He shivered with cold and with fright. Dropping fromhis horse he pulled from his pocket an electric flashlight and beganthrowing its slender beam in widening arcs over the ground. The lightrevealed a stubble field. Surely there must be a path which would lead tothe road, thought the boy. Backward and forward over the field he wavedthe light. His hands trembled so that he could not hold the switch steady, and the lamp blinked on and off. 

On the storm-swept, night-hidden hillside which overhung the field wasestablished an anti-aircraft battery. 

The sound detectors had just registered the intermittent hum of an enemyplane. It was unusual that an enemy aviator should fight his way over thelines in the face of such a storm, but such things had occurred before andthe Captain in charge of the battery searched the tempestuous skies forthe intruder, waiting for the sound to grow until he should know that thesearchlights had at least a chance of locating the venturesome planeinstead of merely giving away their position. 

Suddenly, cutting the night in the field below, a tiny ray of light cutthe darkness, sweeping back and forward, flashing on and off. For a momentthe officer watched it, then, with a muttered curse, he raced down thehillside followed by one of his men. The noise of the storm hid theirapproach. The boy collapsed into a trembling heap, as the officer graspedhim and wrested the flash-light from his chilled fingers. He made noprotest as they led him down into a dark, deserted village. He followedhis captors into a candle-lighted room where sat a staff officer. 

Briefly the Captain explained the situation. 

"Caught him in the act of signaling to an enemy plane, sir, " he said. 

The boy was too cold to venture a protest. 

"Bring him to me again in the morning, " said the Colonel, shrugging hisshoulders. "Hold on, though! What are you going to do with him? He willdie unless you get him warmed up. "

"Don't know what to do with him, sir, unless I take him down to theSalvation Army. .. They have a fire there. "

"Very good, Captain, see that he is properly guarded and if they will havehim, leave him there for the night. " And so it came to pass that the boyreached his destination. It was past closing time--long past; but themotherly Salvationist in charge knew just what to do. Within ten minutes, wrapped in a warm blanket, the boy sat with his feet in a pan of hotwater, with the Salvation Army woman feeding him steaming lemonade. Between gulps, he told his story and was comforted. Soon he was snuglytucked into an army cot, and still grasping the Salvationist's hand, wassleeping peacefully. 

The next day a little investigation assured the Colonel that the boy'sstory was a true one, and with a reprimand for leaving his post withoutorders he was allowed to return. The delay, however, had absented him, ofcourse, from morning roll-call, and he was sentenced to thirty daysrepairing wire on the front-line trenches, which was often equivalent to adeath sentence, for as many men were shot during the performance of thisduty as came in safely. 

He had done fifteen days of his time at this sentence when the SalvationArmy woman from the Ansauville hut which the boy had visited that rainynight happened over to his Officers' Headquarters, and by chance learnedof his unhappy fate. It took but a few words from her to his commandingofficer to set matters right; his sentence was revoked, and he waspardoned. 

Ansauville was a point of peculiar importance in that all the troopspassing into or out from the sector stopped there. It was here that cocoaand coffee were first provided for the troops. Afterwards it came to bethe habit to serve them with the doughnuts and pie. It was when theTwenty-sixth Division came into the line. They had marched for hours andhad been without any warm meal for a long time. Detachments of themreached Ansauville at night, wet and cold, too late to secure supper thatnight, and hearing they were coming, the lassies put on great boilers ofcoffee and cocoa, and as the men arrived they were given to them freely. 

A hut was established at Mandres. This was some distance in advance ofAnsauville and lay in the valley. At first a wooden building was secured. It had nothing but a dirt floor but lumber was hauled from Newchateau bytruck--a distance of sixty miles, and the place was made comfortable. 

For some little time the boys enjoyed this hut, but on one occasion theGermans sent over a heavy barrage; they hit the hut, destroying one end ofit, scattering the supplies, ruining the victrola, and after that themilitary authorities ordered that the men should not assemble in suchnumbers. 

When this order was given, the Salvation Army had no intention ofdiscontinuing work at Mandres and so found a cellar under a partiallydestroyed building. This cellar was vaulted and had been used for storingwine. It was wet and in bad condition, but with some labor it was made fitto receive the men; and tables and benches were placed there, the canteenestablished and a range set up. It was at this place that a very wonderfulwork was carried on. The Salvation Army Ensign who had charge, for a time, scoured the country for miles around to purchase eggs, which hetransferred to his hut in an old baby carriage. The eggs were supplied tothe men at cost and they fried them themselves on the range, which wasclose at hand. This was considered by the military authorities too farfront for women to come and only men were allowed here. 

The Ensign also mixed batter for pan cakes and established quite areputation as a pan-cake maker. Here was a place where the soldiers feltat home. They could come in at any time and on the fire cook what theypleased. 

They could purchase at the canteen such articles as were for sale and itwas home to them. Very wonderful meetings were held in this spot and manymen found Christ at the penitent-form, which was an old bench placed infront of the canteen. 

On the wharf in New York when the soldiers were returning home somesoldiers were talking about the Salvation Army. "Did you ever go to one oftheir meetings?" asked one. "I sure did!" answered a big fine fellow--acollege man, by the way, from one of the well known New Englanduniversities. "I sure did!--and it was the most impressive service I everattended. It was down in an old wine cellar, and the house over it_wasn't_ because it had been blown away. The meeting was led by alittle Swede, and he gave a very impressive address, and followed it by awonderful prayer. And it wasn't because it was so learned either, for theman was no college chap, but it stirred me deeply. I used to be a gooddeal of a barbarian before I went to France, but that meeting made a bigchange in me. Things are going to be different now. 

"The place was lit by a candle or two and the guns were roaring overhead, but the room was packed and a great many men stood up for prayers. Oh, I'll never forget that meeting!"

That meeting was in the old wine cellar in Mandres. 

The town of Mandres was shelled daily and it was an exceptional day thatpassed without from one to ten men being killed as a result of thisshelling. 

Here are some extracts from letters written by the Ensign from the oldwine cellar in Mandres:

 "Somewhere in France, " May 15, 1918. 

I am still busy in my old wine-cellar in France. I must give you an ideaof my daily routine: Get up early and, go to my cellar. Get wood and makefire; go for some water to put on stove. Take my mess kit, helmet, gasmask and cane, walk about one block to the part of the church standing bythe artillery kitchen and get my hand-out mess, go back to my cellar andhave my breakfast, see to the fire, fuel, clean and light the lamps, dipand carry out some water and mud (but have now found a place to drain offthe water by cutting through the heavy stone wall and digging a ditchunderneath). I dig whenever I have time. Then the boys begin to come in-some right from the trenches, others who are resting up after a siege inthe trenches. They are all covered with mud when they come in and have totalk, stand and even sleep in mud. Then I must have the cocoa and coffeeready and serve also the candy, figs, nuts, gum, chocolate, shaving-sticks, razors, watches, knives, gun oil, paper, envelopes, etc. I mostlywear my rubber boots and stand in a little boot "slouched" down so I canstand straight. Almost every evening we have a little "sing-song" orregular service, and on Sunday two or three services. 

Our wine-cellar is supposed to be bomb-proof. First the roof, the ceiling, the floor, then the three-feet stone and concrete under the floor andalong the wine-cellar. I am all alone for all this business. Sometimes theboys help me to cut wood and keep the fire and carry water, but thecompanies are changed so often that they go and come every five days, andwhen they come from the trenches they are so tired and sleepy they needall the rest they can get. Yesterday I had to change the stove andstovepipes because it smoked so bad that it almost smoked us out. So I hadto run through the ruins and find old stovepipes. I could not find enoughelbows, so I had to make some with the help of an old knife. We ran thepipes through the low window bars and up the side of the house to the top, and plastered up poor joints with mud, but it burns better and does notsmoke. The boys claim I make the best coffee they have had in France, andalso cocoa. I am glad I know something of cooking. You see, they don'tpermit girls so near the trenches and in the shell fire. 

My dear Major:

Grace, love and peace unto you! Many thanks for the beautiful letter Ireceived from you full of love, Christian admonition and encouragement. Such letters are much Appreciated over here. 

I have been very busy. The last week, in addition to running the ordinarybusiness, I have used the pick and shovel and wheelbarrow in lowering ourwine-cellar floor (now used as a Salvation Army rest room), so we can walkstraight in. I have also done some white-washing to brighten things up andhave some flowers in bowls, large French wine bottles and big brassshells, which makes a great improvement. I now expect to pick up piecesand erect a range, so we can cook and make things faster. I secured twohams and am having them cooked, and expect to serve ham sandwiches byDecoration Day, two days hence, when there is to be a great time indecorating the graves of our heroes. I am also trying to get some lemonsso that I can make lemonade for the boys besides the coffee and cocoa. Youcan get an idea of the immensity of our business when I tell you I got999. 25 francs worth of butter-scotch candy alone with the last lot ofgoods, besides a dozen other kinds of candy, nuts, toilet articles, etc. , and this will be sold and given out in a very few days. 

We had very good meetings last Sunday. I spoke at night. A glorious timewe had, indeed. Praise God for the opportunity of working among the NewEngland braves!

 At Menil-la-Tours the French forbade any huts at all to be put up atfirst, but finally they gave permission for one hut. The Staff-Captainwanted to put up two, but as that wasn't allowed he got around the orderby building five rooms on each side of the one big hut and so had plentyof room. It is pretty hard to get ahead of a Salvation Army worker when hehas a purpose in view. Not that they are stubborn, simply that they knowhow to accomplish their purpose in the nicest way possible and pleaseeverybody. 

There were some American railroad engineers here, working all night takingstuff to the front. They came over and asked if they could help out, andso instead of taking their day for sleep they spent most of it putting tarpaper on the roof of the Salvation Army hut. 

It was in this place that there seemed to be a strong prejudice among someof the soldiers against the Salvation Army for some reason. The soldiersstood about swearing at the Staff-Captain and his helper as they worked, and saying the most abusive and contemptible things to them. At last theStaff-Captain turned about and, looking at them, in the kindliest waysaid:

"See here, boys, did you ever know anything about the Salvation Armybefore?"

They admitted that they had not. 

"Well, now, just wait a little while. Give us fair play and see if we arelike what you say we are. Wait until we get our hut done and get started, and then if you don't like us you can say so. "

"Well, that's fair, Dad, " spoke up one soldier, and after that there wasno more trouble, and it wasn't long before the soldiers were giving themost generous praise to the Salvation Army on every side. 

L'Hermitage, nestled in the heart of a deep woods, was no quiet refugefrom the noise of battle and the troubles of a war-weary world, as onemight suppose. It was surrounded by swamps everywhere. And it had beenraining, of course. It always seems to have been raining in France duringthis war. There were duck boards over the swampy ground, and a single mis-step might send one prone in the ooze up to the elbows. 

It was a very dangerous place, also. 

There was a large ammunition dump in the town, and besides that there wasa great balloon located there which the Boche planes were always trying toget. It was the nearest to the front of any of our balloons and, ofcourse, was a great target for the enemy. There was a lot of heavy coastartillery there, also, and there were monster shell holes big enough tohold a good audience. 

At last one day the enemy did get the ammunition dump, and report afterreport rent the air as first one shell and then another would burst and goup in flame. It was fourteen hours going off and the military officerordered the girls to their billets until it should be over. It was likethis: First a couple of shells would explode, then there would be asecond's quiet and a keg of powder would flare; then some boxes ofammunition would go off; then some more shells. It was a terriblepandemonium of sound. Thirty miles away in Gondrecourt they saw the fireand heard the terrific explosions. 

The Zone Major and one of his helpers had been to Nancy for a truck loadof eggs and were just unloading when the explosions began. Together theywere carefully lifting out a crate containing a hundred dozen eggs whenthe mammoth detonations began that rocked the earth beneath them andthreatened to shake them from their feet. They staggered and tottered butthey held onto the eggs. One of the sayings of Commander Eva Booth is, "Choose your purpose and let no whirlwind that sweeps, no enemy thatconfronts you, no wave that engulfs you, no peril that affrights you, turnyou from it. " The Zone Major and his helper had chosen the purpose oflanding those eggs safely, and eggs at five francs a dozen are not to belightly dropped, so they staggered but they held onto the eggs. 

The girls in the canteen went quietly about their work until ordered tosafety; but over in Sanzey and Menil-la-Tour their friends watched andwaited anxiously to hear what had been their fate. 

The General who was in charge of the Twenty-sixth Division was exceedinglykind to the Salvation Army girls. He acted like a father toward them:giving up his own billet for their use; sending an escort to take them toit through the woods and swamps and dangers when their work at the canteenwas over for a brief respite; setting a sentry to guard them and to give agas alarm when it became necessary; and doing everything in his power fortheir comfort and safety. 

IV. 

The Montdidier Sector

Spring came on even in shell-torn France, lovely like the miracle italways is. Bare trees in a day were arrayed in wondrous green. Acamouflage of beauty spread itself upon the valleys and over the hillsideslike a garment sewn with colored broidery of blossoms. Great scarletpoppies flamed from ruined homes as if the blood that had been spilt wereresurrected in a glorious color that would seek to hide the misery andsorrow and touch with new loveliness the war-scarred place. Little birdssent forth their flutey voices where mortals must be hushed for fear ofenemies. 

The British had been driven back by the Huns until they admitted thattheir backs were against the wall, and it was an anxious time. Daily theenemy drew nearer to Paris. 

When the great offensive was started by the Germans in March, 1918, andAmerican troops were sent up to help the British and French, the Divisionwas located at Montdidier. Under the rules for the conduct of war, theywere not permitted to know where they were destined to go, and so theSalvation Army could not secure that information. They knew it was to benorth of Paris, but where, was the problem. 

The French were opposed to any relief organizations going into the Sector, and rules and regulations were made which were calculated to discourage orto keep them out altogether. 

It was urgent that the Salvation Army should be there at the earliestpossible moment and as they could not secure permits, especially for thewomen, they decided to get there without permits, The first contingent was put into a big Army truck, the cover was put downand they were started on the road, to a point from which they hoped tosecure information of the movements of their outfit. From place to placethis truck proceeded until, finally, detachments of the troops werelocated in the vicinity of Gisors. Contact was immediately established. The girls were received with the greatest joy and portable tents were setup. It seemed as if every man in the Division must come to say how glad hewas to see them back. The men decided that if it was in their power theywould never again allow the Salvation Army to be separated from them. Afew days later when the Division was ordered to move they took these samelassies with them riding in army trucks. The troops were on their way tothe front and seldom remained more than three days in one place, andfrequently only one day. On arrival at the stopping-place, fifteen ortwenty of the boys would immediately proceed to erect the tent and withinan hour or two a comfortable place would be in operation, a field rangeset up, the phonograph going, and the boys had a home. 

At Courcelles the Salvation Army set up a tent, started a canteen, and hadit going four days in charge of two sisters just come from the States. Then one morning they woke up and found their outfit gone, they knew notwhere, and they had to pick up and go after them. An all-day journey tookthem to Froissy, where they found their special outfit. 

There was no place for a tent at Froissy, but there was an old dance hall, where they had their canteen. The Division stayed there five weeks-under aroar of guns. But in spite of this there were wonderful meetings everynight in Froissy. 

This work was exceedingly trying on the girls. Permits were never securedfor any of the Salvation Army workers in this Sector. They were appliedfor regularly through the French Army. About three months afterapplication was made, they were all received back with the statement fromthe French that, seeing the workers were already there, it was not nownecessary that permits should be issued. It must be reported that theFrench Army was opposed to the presence of women in any of the camps ofthe soldiers. This prejudice existed for a long time, but it was finallybroken down because of the good work done by Salvation Army women, whichcame to be fully recognized by the French Army. 

The work in the Montdidier Sector was particularly hard. Permanentbuildings could not be established. The best that could be done was toerect portable tents, which were about twenty feet wide and fifty-sevenfeet long. Huts were established in partially destroyed buildings orhouses or stores that had been vacated by their owners, and on the extremefront canteens were established in dugouts and cellars and the entiredistrict was under bombardment from the German guns as well as from theairplane bombs. The Salvation Army had no place there that was not underbombardment continually. The huts were frequently shelled and there wasimminent danger for a long time that the German Army would break through, which, of course, added to the strain. 

The Zone Major went back and forth bringing more men and more lassies andmore supplies from the Base at Paris to the front, and many a new workeralmost lost his life in a baptism of fire on his way to his post of dutyfor the first time. But all these men and women, as a soldier said, weremade of some fine high stuff that never faltered at danger or fatigue orhardship. 

They rode over shell-gashed roads in the blackest midnight in a littledilapidated Ford; made wild dashes when they came to a road upon which theenemy's fire was concentrated, looking back sometimes to see a geyser offlame leap up from a bend around which they had just whirled. Shells wouldrain in the fields on either side of them; cars would leap by them in thedark, coming perilously close and swerving away just in time; and stillthey went bravely on to their posts. 

Everything would be blackest darkness and they would think they werestealing along finely, when all of a sudden an incendiary bomb would burstand flare up like a house-on-fire lighting up the whole country for milesabout, and there you were in plain sight of the enemy! And you couldn'tturn back nor hesitate a second or you would be caught by the everwatchful foe! You had to go straight ahead in all that blare of light!

The S. A. Adjutant's headquarters were fifty feet below the ground;sometimes the earth would rock with the explosives. Two of the dugoutswere burrowed almost beneath the trenches and S. A. Officers here lookedafter the needs of the men who were actually engaged in fighting. Everynight the shattered villages were raked and torn above them. Such dugoutscould only be left at night or when the firing ceased. The two men whooperated these lived a nerve-racking existence. Of course, all pies anddoughnuts for these places had to be prepared far to the rear, and no firecould be built as near to the front as this. It was no easy task to bringthe supplies back and forth. It was almost always done at the risk oflife. 

The Staff-Captain and the Adjutant were speeding over a shell-swept roadone cold, black, wet night at reckless speed without a light, their heartsfilled with anxiety, for a rumor had reached them that two Salvation Armylassies had been killed by shell fire. The night was full of the sound ofwar, the distant rumble of the heavy guns, the nervous stutter of machineguns, the tearing screech of a barrage high above the road. 

Suddenly in front of them yawned a black gulf. The Adjutant jammed on hisbrakes, but it was too late. The game little Ford sailed right into a bigshell hole, and settled down three feet below the road right side up buttightly wedged in. The two travelers climbed out and reconnoitered butfound the situation hopeless. There had been many sleepless nights beforethis one, and the men, weary beyond endurance, rolled up in theirblankets, climbed into the car, and went to sleep, regardless of the gunsthat thundered all about them. 

They were just lost to the land of reality when a soldier roused themsummarily, saying:

"This is a heck of a place for the Salvation Army to go to sleep! If youdon't mind I'll just pick your old bus out of here and send you on yourway before it's light enough for Fritzy to spot you and send a callingcard. "

He was grinning at them cheerfully and they roused to the occasion. 

"How are you going to do it?" asked the Adjutant, who, by the way, wasSmiling Billy, the same one the soldiers called "one game little guy. " "Itwill take a three-ton truck to get us out of this hole!"

"I haven't got a truck but I guess we can turn the trick all right!" saidthe soldier. 

He disappeared into the darkness above the crater and in a momentreappeared with ten more dark forms following him, and another soldier whopatrolled the rim of the crater on horseback. 

"How do you like 'em?" he chuckled to the Salvation Army men, as he turnedhis flashlight on the ten and showed them to be big German prisoners ofwar. Under his direction they soon had the little Ford pushed andshouldered into the road once more. In a little while the Salvationistsreached their destination and found to their relief that the rumor aboutthe lassies was untrue. 

At Mesnil-St. -Firmin one of the lassies, a young woman well known in NewYork society circles, but a loyal Salvationist and in France from thestart, drove a little flivver carrying supplies for several nights, accompanied only by a young boy detailed from the Army. Every mile of theway was dark and perilous, but there was no one else to do the work, soshe did it. 

Here they were under shell fire every night. The girls slept in an oldwine cellar, the only comparatively safe place to be found. It was damp, with a fearful odor they will never forget--moreover, it was alreadyinhabited by rats. They frequently had to retire to the cellar during gasattacks, and stay for hours, sometimes having only time to seize anovercoat and throw it over their night-clothes. They were here through tencounter-attacks and when Cantigny was taken. 

There seemed to be big movements among the Germans one day. They werebringing up reinforcements, and a large attack was expected. The airplaneswere dropping bombs freely everywhere and it looked as if there would notbe one brick left on the top of another in a few hours. Then the militaryauthorities ordered the two girls to leave town. When the boys heard thatthe hut was being shelled and the girls were ordered to leave they pouredin to tell them how much they would miss them. They well knew fromexperience that their staunch hardworking little friends would not haveleft them if they could have helped it. Also, they dreaded to lose theseconsecrated young women from their midst. They had a feeling that theirpresence brought the presence of the great God, with His protection, andin this they had come to trust in their hour of danger. Often the boyswould openly speak of this, owning that they attributed their safety tothe presence of their Christian friends. 

One young officer from the officers' mess where the girls had dined onceat their invitation, brought them boxes of candy, and in presenting themsaid:

"Gee! We shall miss you like the devil!"

The lassie twinkled up in a merry smile and answered: "That sure is somecomparison!" The officer blushed as red as a peony and tried toapologize:

"Well, now, you know what I mean. I don't know just how to say how much weshall miss you!"

They left at midnight on foot accompanied by one of the Salvation Army menworkers who had been badly gassed and needed to get back of the lines andhave some treatment. It was brilliant moonlight as they hiked it down theroad, the airplanes were whizzing over their heads and the anti-aircraftguns piling into them. They started for La Folie, the Headquarters of theStaff-Captain of that zone, but they lost their way and got far out of thetrack, arriving at last at Breteuil. Coming to the woods a Military Policestationed at the crossroads told them:

"You can't go into Breteuil because they have been shelling it for twentyminutes. Right over there beyond where you are standing a bomb dropped afew minutes ago and killed or wounded seven fellows. The ambulance justtook them away. "

However, as they did not know where else to go they went into Breteuil, and found the village deserted of all but French and American MilitaryPolice. They tried to get directions, and at last found a French mule teamto take them to La Folie, where they finally arrived at four o'clock inthe morning. 

The next day they went on to Tartigny, where they were to be located for atime. 

One of the lassies left her sister with the canteen one day and startedout with another Officer to the Divisional Gas Officer to get a new gasmask, for something had happened to hers. As they reached a crossroads aboy on a wheel called out: "Oh, they're shelling the road! Pull into thevillage quick!"

When they arrived in the village there was a great shell just fallen inthe very centre of the town. The girl thought of her sister all alone inthe canteen, for the shells were falling everywhere now, and they startedto take a short cut back to Tartigny, but the Military Police stoppedthem, saying they couldn't go on that road in the daytime as it was underobservation, so they had to go back by the road they had come. The canteenwas at the gateway of a chateau, and when they reached there they saw theshells falling in the chateau yard and through the glass roof of thecanteen. It was a trying time for the two brave girls. 

They had been invited out to dinner that evening at the Officers' Mess. Asa rule, they did not go much among the officers, but this was a specialinvitation. The shells had been falling all the afternoon, but they werequite accustomed to shells and that did not stop the festivities. Duringthe dinner the soldier boys sang and played on guitars and banjos. Butwhen the dinner was over they asked the girls to sing. 

It was very still in the mess hall as the two lovely lassies took theirguitars and began to sing. There was something so strong and sweet andpure in the glance of their blue eyes, the set of their firm little chins, so pleasant and wholesome and merry in the very curve of their lips, thatthe men were hushed with respect and admiration before this highest of alltypes of womanhood. 

It was a song written by their Commander that the girls had chosen, with asweet, touching melody, and the singers made every word clear anddistinct:

 Bowed beneath the garden shades, Where the Eastern--sunlight fades, Through a sea of griefs He wades, And prays in agony. His sweat is of blood, His tears like a flood For a lost world flow down. I never knew such tears could be-- Those tears He wept for me!

 Hung upon a rugged tree On the hill of Calvary, Jesus suffered, death, to be The Saviour of mankind. His brow pierced by thorn, His hands and feet torn, With broken heart He died. I never knew such pain could be, This pain He bore for me!

Suddenly crashing into the midst of the melody came a great shell, exploding just outside the door and causing everyone at the table tospring to his feet. The singers stopped for a second, wavered, as thereverberation of the shock died away, and then went on with their song;and the officers, abashed, wondering, dropped back into their seatsmarvelling at the calmness of these frail women in the face of death. Surely they had something that other women did not have to enable them tosing so unconcernedly in such a time as this!

 Love which conquered o'er death's sting, Love which has immortal wing, Love which is the only thing My broken heart to heal. It burst through the grave, It brought grace to save, It opened Heaven's gate. I never knew such love could be-- This love He gave to me!

It needs some special experience to appreciate what Salvation Army lassiesreally are, and what they have done. They are not just any good sort ofgirl picked up here and there who are willing to go and like theexcitement of the experience; neither are they common illiterate girls whomerely have ordinary good sense and a will to work. The majority of themin France are fine, well-bred, carefully reared daughters of Christianfathers and mothers who have taught them that the home is a little bit ofheaven on earth, and a woman God's means of drawing man nearer to Him. They have been especially trained from childhood to forget self and tolive for others. The great slogan of the Salvation Army is "Others. " Didyou ever stop to think how that would take the coquetry out of a girl'seyes, and leave the sweet simplicity of the natural unspoiled soul? Wehave come to associate such a look with a plain, homely face, a dullcomplexion, careless, severe hair-dressing and unbeautiful clothes. Why?

Righteousness from babyhood has given to these girls delicate beautifulfeatures, clear complexions that neither faded nor had to be renewed inthe thick of battle, eyes that seemed flecked with divine lights and coulddance with mirth on occasion or soften exquisitely in sympathy, furtivedimples that twinkled out now and then; hands that were shapely and didnot seem made for toil. Yet for all that they toiled night and day for thesoldiers. They were educated, refined, cultured, could talk easily andwell on almost any subject you would mention. They never appeared to forcetheir religious views to the front, yet all the while it was perfectlyevident that their religion was the main object of their lives; that thiswas the secret source of strength, the great reason for their deep joy, and abiding calm in the face of calamities; that this was the one greatpurpose in life which overtopped and conquered all other desires. And ifyou would break through their sweet reserve and ask them they would tellyou that Jesus and the winning of souls to Him was their one and onlyambition. 

And yet they have not let these great things keep them from the pleasantlittle details of life. Even in the olive drab flannel shirt and sergeskirt of their uniform, or in their trim serge coats, the exactcounterpart of the soldier boy's, except for its scarlet epaulets, and thelittle close trench hat with its scarlet shield and silver lettering, theyare beautiful and womanly. Catch them with the coat off and a great khakiapron enveloping the rest of their uniform, and you never saw lovelierwomen. No wonder the boys loved to see them working about the hut, lovedto carry water and pick up the dishes for washing, and peel apples, andscrape out the bowl after the cake batter had been turned into the pans. No wonder they came to these girls with their troubles, or a button thatneeded sewing on, and rushed to them first with the glad news that aletter had come from home even before they had opened it. These girls werereal women, the kind of woman God meant us all to be when He made thefirst one; the kind of woman who is a real helpmeet for all the men withwhom she comes in contact, whether father, brother, friend or lover, ormerely an acquaintance. There is a fragrance of spirit that breathes inthe very being, the curve of the cheek, the glance of the eye, the graceof a movement, the floating of a sunny strand of hair in the light, thecurve of the firm red lips that one knows at a glance will have nocompromise with evil. This is what these girls have. 

You may call it what you will, but as I think of them I am again remindedof that verse in the Bible about those brave and wonderful disciples: "Andthey took knowledge of them that they had been with Jesus. "

Two of the Salvation Army men went back to Mesnil-St. -Firmin the day afterthe lassies had been obliged to leave, to get some of their belongingswhich they had not been able to take with them, and one of them, aSalvation Army Major, stayed to keep the place open for the boys. He wasthe only Salvation Army man who is entitled to wear a wound stripe. By hisdevotion to duty, self-sacrifice, and contempt of danger, he won theconfidence of the men wherever he was. He chiefly worked alone andoperated a canteen usually in a dugout at the front. 

On one occasion a soldier was badly wounded at the door of a hut, by anexploding gas-shell. He fell into the dugout and while the Major workedover him, the Major himself was gassed and had to be removed to the rearand undergo hospital treatment. For this service he was awarded a woundstripe. During the St. Mihiel offensive he was appointed in the ToulSector and followed up the advancing soldiers, and later was active in theArgonne. He is essentially a front-line man and always takes the greatestsatisfaction in being in the place of most danger. 

 The following is a brief excerpt from his diary when he manned the dugouthut in Coullemelle:

 May 12

"Arrived in Coullemelle Sunday night, May 12. Was busy with my work bymid-day, Monday, 13. After cleaning our dugout, gave medicine to sick man, who refused to sleep in my bed because he was not fit. However, I made himfeel fine, helped. I had a long talk with the boys. 

_Tuesday, 14:_ Shell struck opposite to dugout and sent tiles downsteps. The Captain of E Battery visited me to-day, and then I visited theBattery and had chow with them. Airplane fight: while batteries wereroaring, the Germans came down in flames. 

_Wednesday, 15:_ No coming to dugout in the day-time on account ofshelling. I did good business in the evening and also had long services byrequest of the boys. Received a letter from B---- here to-day, I sleptgood. 

_Thursday, 16:_ I visited army, the officers and men of F Battery. Their chow kitchen is in a bad place, all men coming down sick. I had anarrangement with the doughboys that they might come in my dugout any hourin the night, whenever they wanted. I visited infantry officers to-day, Capt. Cribbs and Capt. Crisp. I had a lovely talk with them. I offered togo to the trenches with my goods, but Capt. Cribbs said I would just bekilled without doing what he knew I wanted to do, namely, serve the boyswith food and encourage them. 

_Friday, 17:_ I was startled by a fearful barrage at four o'clockwhen I got up, washed my clothes: was visited by the Y. M. C. A. Secretary:was shelled from five o'clock till ten o'clock. I went for chow and foundshell ball gone through kitchen. High explosive, black smoke shellsbursting intermittently, tiles fell into my dugout. I took pick shovel inwith me; my kitten ran away but came back. A three-legged cat came to theruined home where I am; its leg evidently had been cut off by shrapnel. Great air fight all day. Incendiary shells were fired into the town andburnt for a long time. I visited Battery F, and gave the fellows medicine. To-day both officers and men were in the gun pits and I with them, whilethey were deviling with Fritzy. Big business in evening with long service, gave out Testaments and held service in dugout; got a Frenchman tointerpret the scripture to his comrades. Bequests for prayer. Doughboyscame in 12:30, through a barrage, and got sixty-five bars of chocolate, others got biscuits. I am very, very tired; artillery is roaring as I goto sleep. 

_Saturday, 18:_ Capt. Cribbs came down to dugout and said he wasworried to death over me (thought I was killed). I assured him I was all0. K. , and that it was their end of the town that needed looking after. Helaughed and enjoyed it. My supplies are kept up by the courage anddevotion of the Staff-Captain and Billy, who, taking their lives in theirhands, bring the Ford with supplies along the shell-torn road at greatperil. Capt. Corliss also came. 

During the day, the officer of Battery F wanted the Victrola and got theuse of it in their dugout for three days. In the meantime I had furnishedBattery D the use of the Victrola and the day I made the promise, I foundthe boys without chow for twelve hours. When about to serve it, the townwas gassed and their food with it and no one was permitted to touch athing, they were blessing the Kaiser as only soldiers can under suchcircumstances. When I arrived among them, after finding out the way ofthings, I suggested to the officers that I should be permitted to supplythem with such food as I had. They assured me it would be a mighty goodthing for them if I would, and I took four boxes of biscuits and six potsof jam and other things to their trench in the rear of their batteries--they surely thought I was an angel and I left them pretty happy. This wasall done under fire and at great risk. I chowed with Battery E and sawshell hole through building which was new since my last visit--boys offerto teach me how to work gun, their spirit is wonderful under the terrificstrain which they labor. I visited ruined church and went inside; herewere some graves of the French soldiers, some of the bodies being exposed. Could not stay very long. Overtook soldier-boy limping, got him to stayawhile and gave him hot chocolate; persuaded him to let his limb be seento, which he did, and was sent to hospital. I visited hospital corps-fellows and arranged that in case of gas, they would visit and rouse me atnight. They are fine fellows. Doughboys bought lots of goods and blessedthe Salvation Army a thousand times. These lads come in from the trenchesand have some hair-raising stories to tell. 

_Sunday, 19:_ Quiet till the afternoon when a gas barrage started. Iwas driven out of my dugout. I had a narrow escape, while reaching thehospital corps dugout. Lieut. Roolan (since promoted), of the Fifth FieldArtillery, was there for two hours and half. 480 shells, I was informed, came down, averaging up three and four per minute. All night, from 6o'clock to 3 A. M. , 3000 shells are sent into the town. I slept in theHeadquarters Signal Corps dugout with my gas mask on all night. 

_Monday, 20:_ Visited Y. M. C. A. And found their dugout had been struckand the Secretary's eyes were gassed after a man took his place. I sawColonel Crane to try and get out of my dugout and get the one he had left. He gave me permission, assuring me that it was not a very good one atthat. I took my Victrola with two of the battery boys from F Battery. Icarried the records and they the Victrola. We dodged the shelling all theway and I had the pleasure of hearing the "Swanee River" song at the sametime as the firing of the big guns much to the enjoyment of the boys. Iunderstand that General Summerall visited and heard the Victrola soonafter I had taken it to the boys. I placed about fifty books amongofficers of the Hospital Corps, Infantry officers, Battery officers. Theywere highly appreciated. I slept with Signal Corps boys again as Fritzydecided to continue the bombardment of the town which he did from 5. 30P. M. To 5. 30 A. M. I slept with mask on and had no ill effects of the gasat all so far; but about five o'clock a terrific crash just outside of mydugout followed by a man shouting as he rushed down the dugout steps, "Oh, God, get me to the doctor right away. " That shell nearly got me. I wasonly eight feet from it. I sprung up and rushed him from the dugout overto the hospital. I had to chase around from one dugout to another andfinally landed my man (his name was Harry), who was taken to the hospital. 

_Tuesday, 21:_ After taking the man to the doctor, I went to my ownplace and found a nine-inch gas shrapnel shell had burst 15 or 20 feetfrom my dugout, about fifteen holes were torn through the door, the top ofthe shell lay six feet from the top of the steps, pieces of the shell werescattered down the steps, and my dugout to the gas curtain, was full ofgas. If Staff-Captain and Billy had been visiting me that night, the shellwould have hit the Ford right in the center. Fierce bombardment all theday. Houses were struck on the entire street from end to end. Shells fellin the yard, one struck the corner of the house. The soldiers next doorhave gone, and my place can only be opened in the evenings. Things arepretty hot, I started out visiting the batteries to-day, but was drivenback and could get out only by the back entrance to the yard. I am told bya soldier of the Intelligence Dept. , that their bombardment is what isknown as a "Million-Dollar Barrage, " and that all were fortunate to havepassed through it, he also told me the number and nature of the shells. Iserved hot chocolate this Tuesday night and noticed that my hands werevery red. 

_Wednesday, 22:_ I visited the Battery in their trenches again andtook them food. My eyes are affected by the gas, and I got treatment atthe Evacuating Hospital. Some shells come very close to my dugout--to-daythirty feet, fifty feet and twenty feet. I gather up a box full ofremnants. I find I am gassed by a contact with the poor fellow coming inwhom I took to the doctor. I get treatment two or three times for my eyesand throat. My hands begin to crack and smart. The flesh comes off from myneck and other parts of my body. I had a fine meeting with boys in dugoutand am again visited by the doughboys and officers. I visit the ruinedchurch area again and get a few relics. 

_Thursday, 23:_ My eyes are very red and becoming painful and also mythroat and nose, etc. I plan to move my dugout and pack up accordingly. Things are quieter today; had services again in the evening. Frenchschoolmaster among the number, six requests for prayer. 

_Friday, 24:_ Am all ready to move to a new dugout when Staff-Captainarrives and tells me I am ordered out by the military. "

Here is the Military Order received by the Staff-Captain:

"To Major Coe, "Salvation Army:

"(1) Major Wilson, Chief G1, directs that the Salvation Army evacuate'Coullemelle' as soon as possible. 

"(2) He desires that they leave to-night if possible. 

"(3) This message was received by me from the office of G1. 

 "L. JOHNSON, "1st Lieut. , F. A. "

Orders also arrived soon for the removal of the Salvation Army workers inBroyes:

 "Headquarters, 1st Division, G-1. "American Expeditionary Forces, " June 3, 1919. 

"Memorandum: To Mr. L. A. Coe, Salvation Army, La Folie. 

"The hut, which it is understood the Salvation Army is operating inBroyes, will, for military reasons, be removed from there as soon aspracticable. 

"It is contrary to the desire of the Commanding General that women workersbe employed in huts or canteens east of the line Mory-Chepoix-Tartigny, and if any are now so located they are to 'be removed. 

"The operations of technical services, Red Cross, Y. M. C. A. , and othersimilar agencies is a function of this section of the General Staff andall questions pertaining to your movements and location of huts should inthe future be referred to G. -1. 

"By command of Major General Bullard. 

 "G. K Wilson, "Major, General Staff, "A. C. Of S. , G. -1. "

In Tartigny they found a house with five rooms, one of them very large. The billeting officer turned this over to the Salvation Army. 

There was plenty of space and the girls might have a room to themselveshere, instead of just curtaining off a corner of a tent or making apartition of supply boxes in one end of the hut as they often had to do. There was also plenty of furniture in the house, and they were allowed togo around the village and get chairs and tables or anything they wanted tofix up their canteen. The girls had great fun selecting easy-chairs anddesks and anything they desired from the deserted houses, and before longthe result was a wonderfully comfortable, cozy, home-like room. 

"Gee! This is just like heaven, coming in here!" one of the boys said whenhe first saw it. 

Just outside Tartigny there was a large ammunition dump, piles of shellsand boxes of other ammunition. It was under the trees and wellcamouflaged, but night after night the enemy airplanes kept trying to getit. The girls used to sit in the windows and watch the airplane battles. They would stay until an airplane got over the house and then they wouldrun to the cellar. They came so close one night that pieces of shell fromthe anti-aircraft guns fell over the house. 

Sometimes the airplanes would come in the daytime, and the girls got intothe habit of running out into the street to watch them. But at this theboys protested. 

"Don't do that, you will get hit!" they begged. And one day the nose of anunexploded shell fell in the street just outside the door. After that theywere more careful. 

In this town one afternoon a whole truck-load of oranges arrived, beingthree hundred crates, four hundred oranges to a crate, for the canteen, and they were all gone by four o'clock!

The Headquarters of the Division Commander were in a beautiful old stonechateau of a peculiar color that seemed to be invisible to the airplanes. There were woods all around it and the house was never shelled. It wasfilled with rare old tapestries and beautiful furniture. 

The Count who owned the chateau asked the Major General to get somefurniture that belonged to him out of the village that was being shelled. Later the Count asked the General if he ever got that furniture. TheGeneral asked his Colonel, "What did you do with that furniture?" "Oh, "the Colonel said, "it's down there all right!" "And where is the piano?""Oh, I gave that to the Salvation Army. "

In this area it was one lassie's first bombardment; it came suddenly andwithout warning. The soldiers in the hut decamped without ceremony for thesafety of their dugouts. One soldier who had been detailed to help thelassie, shouted: "Come on! Follow me to your dugout!" Without further talkhe turned and started for cover. The girl had been baking. A tray full ofluscious lemon cream pies stood on the table. She did not want to leavethose pies to the tender mercies of a shell. Also she had some new bootsstanding beneath the table, and she was not going to lose those. Withoutstopping to think, she seized the shoes in one hand and the tray in theother and rushed after the soldier. A little gully had to be crossed onthe way to the dugout and the only bridge was a twelve-inch plank. Thesoldier crossed in safety and turned to look after the girl. Just as shereached the middle of the plank a shell burst not far away. The lassie wasso startled that she nearly lost her balance, swaying first one way andthen the other. In an attempt to stop the tray of pies from slipping, shealmost lost the shoes, and in recovering the shoes, the pies just escapedsliding overboard into the thick mud below. 

The soldier registered deep agitation. 

"Drop the shoes!" he shouted. "I can clean the shoes, but for heaven'ssake don't drop them pies!" And the lassie obeyed meekly. 

In the little town of Bonnet where the rest room was located in an oldbarn connected with a Catholic convent, one Salvation Army Envoy and hiswife from Texas began their work. They soon became known to the soldiersfamiliarly as "Pa" and "Ma. "

It was in this old barn that the tent top, later made famous atAnsauville, was first used. Stoves were almost impossible to obtain atthat time, but "Ma" was determined that she would bake pies for the men, so the Envoy constructed an oven out of two tin cake boxes and using asmall two-burner gasoline stove, "Ma" baked biscuits and pies that madeher name famous. Through her great motherly heart and her willingness toserve the boys at all times, under all circumstances, she won theirconfidence and love. One soldier said he would walk five miles any day tolook into "Ma's" gray eyes. 

From Bonnet they were transferred to command a hut at Ansauville, but "Ma"could never rest so long as there was a soldier to be served in any way. She worked early and late, and she made each individual soldier who cameto the hut her special charge as if he were her own son. She could notsleep when they were going over the top unless she prayed with each onebefore he went. 

The meetings which she and her husband held were full of life and powerand were never neglected, no matter how hard the strain might be fromother lines of service. 

It was not long before "Ma's" strength gave out and it was necessary tomove her to a quieter place. She was transferred to Houdelainecourt. Shewould not go until they carried her away. 

Houdelainecourt at this time was on the main road travelled by trucks, taking supplies by train from the railroad at Gondrecourt to the front. Truck drivers invariably made it a point to stop at "Ma's" hut and herethey were always sure to receive a welcome and the most deliciousdoughnuts and pies and hot biscuit which loving hands could make. 

Not satisfied with this service alone, she undertook to fry pancakes forthe officers' breakfast. It was through these kindly services, ungrudgingly done, at any time of the day or night, that her name wasestablished as one of the most potent factors in contributing to thecomfort and welfare of the men, and there was no hole or tear of the men'sclothes that "Ma" could not mend. 

A short time after the pie contest over at Gondrecourt, "Ma" and one ofher lassie helpers set out to break the record of 316 pies as a day'swork. Their oven would hold but six pies at a time; their hut had but justbeen opened and all their equipment had not yet arrived, so they wereshort a rolling pin, which had to be carved from a broken wagon-shaft witha jack-knife before they could begin; but they achieved the baking of 324pies between 6 A. M. And 6 P. M. That day. It is fair to state for the sakeof the doubter, however, that the pie fillers, both pumpkin and apple, were all prepared and piping hot on the stove ready to be poured into thepastry as it was put into the oven, which, of course, helped a good deal. 

A sign was put out announcing that pie would be served at seven o'clock, but the lines formed long before that. 

[Illustration: "Ma"]

[Illustration: "They had a pie-baking contest in Gondrecourt one day"--therenowned "Aunt Mary" in the right-hand corner]

The pies were unusually large and cut into fifths, but even at that theywere much larger pieces than are usually served at the ordinaryrestaurant. 

By half-past eight some men were falling in for a second helping, but "Ma"had been watching long a little company of men off to one side who hoveredabout yet never dropped into line themselves, and made up her mind thatthese were some of those who perhaps sent much of their money home andfound it a long time between pay-days. Casting her kindly eyecomprehendingly toward these men she mounted a chair and requested:

"All of the men who have already had pie, please step out of the line; andall of those boys who want coffee and pie but have no money, step intoline and get some, _anyhow!_"

She gave the boys one of her beautiful motherly smiles and that made themfeel they had all got home, and they hesitated no longer. "Ma, " however, was more deeply interested in her meetings than in mere pie. The Sundaybefore this contest over five hundred soldiers had attended the eveningmeeting, and almost as many had been present at the morning service. Also, there had been twenty-eight members added to her Bible class. Though thehut was a large one it had been crowded to its utmost capacity in theevening, with men packed into the open doorways and windows on eitherside, and forty of the men who announced their determination to followChrist that night could not get inside to come forward. More than a dozengave personal testimony of what Christ had done for them. One notabletestimony was as follows:

"I used to be a hard guy fellers, " he said, "and maybe I had some goodreasons when I used to say that nothing was ever going to scare me, butwhen we lay out there with a six-hour barrage busting right in front of usand 'arrivals' busting all around us, I did a whole lot of thinking. Itseemed as though every shell had my number on it! And when we went overand ran square into their barrage, I'll admit I was scared yellow and wasdarned afraid I was going to show it! We were under a barrage for tenhours. A shell buried me under about a foot of earth, and for the firsttime I can remember, while my bunkie was digging me out, I prayed to God. And I want to say that I believe He answered my prayer, and that is theonly reason I came out uninjured. I promised if I got out I'd call for anew deal, and I want to say that I'm going to keep that promise!"

A boy who had been converted in one of the meetings a few nights beforecame into the hut and sought her out. He told her he was going over thetop that night, and he had something he wanted to confess before he went. He had told a lie and he had felt terrible remorse about it ever since hewas converted. He had treated his mother badly, and gone and enlisted, saying he was eighteen when he was only sixteen. "Now, " said he withrelief after he had told the story, "that's all clear. And say, if I'mkilled, will you go through my pockets and find my Testament and send itto mother? And will you tell my mother all about it and tell her it is allright with me now? Tell mother I went over the top a Christian. You'llknow what to say to her to help her bear up. "

She promised and the boy went away content. That night he was killed, and, true to her promise, she went through his pockets when he was broughtback, and found the little Testament close over his heart; and in it averse was marked for his mother:

"The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin. "

During the early days of the Salvation Army work in France, while the workwas still under inspection as to its influence on the men, and one Colonelhad sent a Captain around to the meetings to report upon them to him, "Ma's" was one of the meetings to which the Captain came. 

She did not know that she was under suspicion, but that night she spoke onobedience and discipline, taking as her text: "Take heed to the law, " andurging the men to obey both moral and military laws so that they might bebetter men and better soldiers. The Captain reported on her sermon andsaid that he wished the regiment had a Salvation Army chaplain for everycompany. 

The hospital visitation work was started by "Ma" in the Paris hospitalswhile she was in that city for several months regaining her strength aftera physical break-down at the front. She was idolized by the wounded. Ifshe walked along any hospital passageway or through any ward, a crowd ofmen were sure to call her by name. They knew her as "Ma, " and frequently, overworked nurses have called up the Paris Salvation Army Headquartersasking if Ma could not find time to come down and sit with a dying boy whowas calling for her. She observed their birthdays with books and othersmall presents, wrote to their mothers, wives and sweethearts, andperformed a multitude of invaluable, precious little services of love. Forweeks after she left Paris, returning to the front, the wounded called forher. She is one of the outstanding figures of the Salvation Army's workwith the American Expeditionary Forces in France. She is indeliblyenshrined in the hearts of hundreds of American soldiers. 

A Salvation Army lassie bent over the bed of a wounded boy recentlyarrived in the Paris hospital from the front, and gave him an orange and alittle sack of candy. 

"I know the Salvation Army, " he said with a faint smile, "I knew I shouldfind you here. "

She asked him his division and he told her he belonged to one that hadbeen coöperating with the French. 

"But how can that be?" she asked in surprise, "we have never worked withyour division. How do you know about us?"

"I only saw the Salvation Army once, " he replied, "but I'll never forgetit. It was when I came back to consciousness in the Dressing Station atCheppy, and the first thing I saw was a Salvation Army girl bending overme washing the blood and dirt off my face with cold water. She looked likean angel and she was that to me. She gave me a drink of cold lemonade whenI was burning up with fever, and she lifted my head to pour it between mylips when I had not strength to move myself. No, I shall not forget!"

One bright young fellow with a bandaged eye turned a cheerful grin towardthe Salvation Army visitor as she said with compassion: "Son, I'm sorryyou've lost your eye. "

"Oh, that's nothing, " was the gay reply, "I can see everything out of theother eye. I've got seven holes in me, too, but believe me I'm not goinghome for the loss of an eye and seven holes! I'll get out yet and get intothe fight!"

The Salvation Army officer and his wife who were stationed at Bonvillersvisited every man in the local hospital every day, sleeping every night inthe open fields. As they are quite elderly, this was no little hardship, especially in rainy weather. 

Five lassies stationed at Noyers St. Martin were for several weeks forcedby the nightly shelling and air-raids to take their blankets out into thefields at night and sleep under the stars. One of these girls was called"Sunshine" because of her smile. 

On the eve of Decoration Day a military Colonel visited her in the hut. Heseemed rather depressed, perhaps by the ceremonies of the day, and saidthat he had come to be cheered up. In parting he said, "Little girl, youhad better get out of town early to-night; I feel as though something isgoing to happen. " Less than an hour later, while the girls were justpreparing for the night in a field half a mile distant, an aerial bombdropped by an aviator on the house in which he was billeted killed him andtwo other Captains who were sitting with him at the time. He had been agreat friend of the Salvation Army. 

Out in a little village in Indiana there grew a fair young flower of agirl. Her mother was a dear Christian woman and she was brought up in hermother's church, which she loved. When she was only twelve years old shehad a remarkable and thorough old-fashioned conversion, giving herselfwith all her childish heart to the Saviour. She feels that she had a kindof vision at that time of what the Lord wanted her to be, a call to dosome special work for Christ out in the world, helping people who did notknow Him, people who were sick and poor and sorrowful. She did not tellher vision to anyone. She did not even know that anywhere in the worldwere any people doing the kind of work she felt she would like to do, andGod had called her to do. She was shy about it and kept her thoughts muchto herself. She loved her own church, and its services, but somehow thatdid not quite satisfy her. 

One day when she was about fourteen years old the Salvation Army came tothe town where she lived and opened work, holding its meetings in a largehall or armory. With her young companions she attended these meetings andwas filled with a longing to be one of these earnest Christian workers. 

Her mother, accustomed to a quiet conventional church and its way of doingChristian work, was horrified; and in alarm sent her away to visit heruncle, who was a Baptist minister. The daughter, dutiful and sweet, wentwillingly away, although she had many a longing for these new friends ofhers who seemed to her to have found the way of working for God that hadbeen her own heart's desire for so long. 

Meantime her gay young brother, curious to know what had so stirred hisbright sister, went to the Salvation Army meetings to find out, and wasattracted himself. He went again and found Jesus Christ, and himselfjoined the Salvation Army. The mother in this case did not object, perhapsbecause she felt that a boy needed more safeguards than a girl, perhapsbecause the life of publicity would not trouble her so much in connectionwith her son as with her daughter. 

The daughter after several months away from home returned, only to findher longing to join the Salvation Army stronger. But quietly and sweetlyshe submitted to her mother's wish and remained at home for some years, like her Master before her, who went down to His home in Nazareth and wassubject to His father and mother; showing by her gentle submission and herlovely life that she really had the spirit of God in her heart and was notmerely led away by her enthusiasm for something new and strange. 

When she was twenty her mother withdrew her objections, and the daughterbecame a Salvationist, her mother coming to feel thoroughly in sympathywith her during the remaining years she lived. 

This is the story of one of the Salvation Army lassies who has been givingherself to the work in the huts over in France. She is still young andlovely, and there is something about her delicate features and slendergrace that makes one think of a young saint. No wonder the soldiers almostworshipped her! No wonder these lassies were as safe over there ten milesfrom any other woman or any other civilian alone among ten thousandsoldiers, as if they had been in their own homes. They breathed the spiritof God as they worked, as well as when they sang and prayed. To such agirl a man may open his heart and find true help and strength. 

[Illustration: A letter of inspiration from the commander]

[Illustration: The Salvation Army boy truck driver who calmly went tosleep in his truck in a shell hole under fire]

It was no uncommon thing for our boys who were so afraid of anything likereligion or anything personal over here, to talk to these lassies abouttheir souls, to ask them what certain verses in the Bible meant, and tokneel with them in some quiet corner behind the chocolate boxes and beprayed with, yes, and _pray!_ It is because these girls have let theChrist into their lives so completely that He lives and speaks throughthem, and the boys cannot help but recognize it. 

Not every boy who was in a Salvation hut meeting has given himself toChrist, of course, but every one of them recognizes this wonderfulsomething in these girls. Ask them. They will tell you "She is the realthing!" They won't tell you more than that, perhaps, unless they havereally grown in the Christian life, but they mean that they haverecognized in her spirit a likeness to the spirit of Christ. 

Now and then, of course, there was a thick-headed one who took someminutes to recognize holiness. Such would enter a hut with an oath uponhis lips, or an unclean story, and straightway all the men who weresitting at the tables writing or standing about the room would come toattention with one of those little noisy silences that mean, so much;pencils would click down on the table like a challenge, and the newcomerwould look up to find the cold glances of his fellows upon him. 

The boys who frequented the huts broke the habit of swearing and tellingunclean stories, and officers began to realize that their men were betterin their work because of this holy influence that was being thrown aboutthem. One officer said his men worked better, and kept their engines oiledup so they wouldn't be delayed on the road, that they might get back tothe hut early in the evening. The picture of a girl stirring chocolatekept the light of hope going in the heart of many a homesick lad. 

One ignorant and exceedingly "fresh" youth, once walked boldly into a hut, it is said, and jauntily addressed the lassie behind the counter as"Dearie. " The sweet blue eyes of the lassie grew suddenly cold withaloofness, and she looked up at the newcomer without her usual smile, saying distinctly: _"What did you say?_"

The soldier stared, and grew red and unhappy:

"Oh! I beg your pardon!" he said, and got himself out of the way as soonas possible. These lassies needed no chaperon. They were young saints tothe boys they served, and they had a cordon of ten thousand faithfulsoldiers drawn about them night and day. As a military Colonel said, theSalvation Army lassie was the only woman in France who was safeunchaperoned. 

When this lassie from Indiana came back on a short furlough after fifteenmonths in France with the troops, and went to her home for a brief visit, the Mayor gave the home town a holiday, had out the band and waited at thedepot in his own limousine for four hours that he might not miss greetingher and doing her honor. 

Here is the poem which Pte. Joseph T. Lopes wrote about "Those SalvationArmy Folks" after the Montdidier attack:

 Somewhere in France, not far from the foe, There's a body of workers whose name we all know; Who not only at home give their lives to make right, But are now here beside us, fighting our fight. What care they for rest when our boys at the front, Who, fighting for freedom, are bearing the brunt, And so, just at dawn, when the caissons come home, With the boys tired out and chilled to the bone, The Salvation Army with its brave little crew, Are waiting with doughnuts and hot coffee, too. When dangers and toiling are o'er for awhile, In their dugouts we find comfort and welcome their smile. There's a spirit of home, so we go there each night, And the thinking of home makes us sit down and write, So we tell of these folks to our loved ones with pride, And are thanking the Lord to have them on our side. 

V. 

The Toul Sector Again

When the German offensive was definitely checked in the Montdidier Sector, the First Division was transferred back to the Toul Sector and theSalvation Army moved with it. They had in the meantime maintained all thehuts which had been established originally, and with the return of theFirst Division, they established additional huts between Font and Nancy. When the St. Mihiel drive came off, they followed the advancing troops, establishing huts in the devastated villages, keeping in as close contactwith the extreme front as was possible, serving the troops day and night, always aiming to be at the point where the need was the greatest, andwhere they could be of the greatest service. 

The first Americans to pay the supreme sacrifice in the cause of libertywere buried in the Toul Sector. 

As it drew near to Decoration Day there came a message from over the seafrom the Commander to her faithful band of workers, saying that she wassending American flags, one for every American soldier's grave, and thatshe wanted the graves cared for and decorated; and at all the variouslocations of Salvation Army workers they prepared to do her bidding. 

The day before the thirtieth of May they took time from their other dutiesto clear away the mud, dead grass and fallen leaves from the graves, andheap up the mounds where they had been washed flat by the rains, makingeach one smooth, regular and tidy. At the head of each grave was a simplewooden cross bearing the name of the soldier who lay there, his rank, hisregiment and the date of his death. Into the back of each cross they drovea staple for a flag, and they swept and garnished the place as best theycould. 

One Salvation Army woman writing home told of the plans they had made inTreveray for Decoration Day; how Commander Booth was sending enoughAmerican flags to decorate every American grave in France, and how theymeant to gather flowers and put with the flags, and have a little serviceof prayer over the graves. 

In the gray old French cemetery of Treveray five American boys lay buried. The flowers upon their graves were dry and dead, for their regiments hadmoved on and left them. The graves had been neglected and only theguarding wooden crosses remained above the rough earth to show thatsomeone had cared and had stopped to put a mark above the places wherethey lay. It was these graves the Salvation Army woman now proposed todecorate on Memorial Day. 

The letter went to the Captain for censorship, and soon the Salvation Armywoman had a call from him. 

"I understand by one of your letters that you are thinking of decoratingthe American graves, " he said. "We would like to help in that, if youdon't mind. I would like the company all to be present. "

The day before Memorial Day this woman with two of the lassies from thehut went to the cemetery and prepared for the morrow. 

In the morning they gathered great armfuls of crimson poppies from thefields, creamy snowballs from neglected gardens, and blue bachelor buttonsfrom the hillsides, which they arranged in bouquets of red, white and bluefor the graves. They had no vases in which to place the flowers but theyused the apple tins in which the apples for their pies had been canned. 

The centuries-old gray cemetery nestled in a curve of the road betweenwheat fields on every side. A gray, moss-covered, lichen-hung wallsurrounded it. The five American graves were under the shadow of theWestern wall, and the sun was slowly sinking in his glory as the companyof soldiers escorted the women into the cemetery. They passed between theponderous old gray stones, and beaded wreaths of the French graves; andthe officers and men lined up facing the five graves. The women placed thetricolored flowers in the cans prepared for them, and planted the flagsbeside them. Then the elder woman, who had sons of her own, stepped outand saluted the military commanding officer: "Colonel" said she, "withyour permission we would like to follow our custom and offer a prayer forthe bereaved. " Instantly permission was given and every head was uncoveredas the Salvationist poured out her heart in prayer to the EverlastingFather, commending the dead into His tender Keeping, and pleading for thesorrow-stricken friends across the sea, until the soldiers' tears fellunchecked as they stood with rifles stiffly in front of them listening tothe quiet voice of the woman as she prayed. God seemed Himself to comedown, and the living boys standing over their five dead comrades could nothelp but be enfolded in His love, and feel the sense of His presence. Theyknew that they, too, might soon be sleeping even as these at their feet. It seemed but a step to the other life. When the prayer was finished afiring squad fired five volleys over the graves, and then the buglerplayed the taps and the little service was over. The lassies lingered totake pictures of the graves and that night they wrote letters describingthe ceremony, to be sent with the photographs to the War Department atWashington with the request that they be forwarded to the nearestrelatives of the five men buried at Treveray. 

[Illustration: The centuries-old gray cemetery in Treveray]

[Illustration: Colonel Barker placing the commander's flowers onLieutenant Quentin Roosevelt's grave]

There were exercises at Menil-la-Tour and here they had built a simpleplatform in the centre of the ground and erected a flagpole at one corner. 

When the morning came two regimental bands took up their positions inopposite corners of the cemetery and began to play. The French populacehad turned out en masse. They took up their stand just outside the littlecemetery, next to them the soldiers were lined up, then the Red Cross, then the Y. M. C. A. Beyond, a little hill rose sloping gently to the skyline, and over it a mile away was the German front, with the shells comingover all the time. 

It was an impressive scene as all stood with bared heads just outside thelittle enclosure where eighty-one wooden crosses marked the going of asmany brave spirits who had walked so blithely into the crisis and giventheir young lives. 

Some French officers had brought a large, beautiful wreath to do honor tothe American heroes, and this was placed at the foot of the great centralflagpole. 

The bands played, and they all sang. It was announced that but for thethoughtfulness and kindness of Commander Evangeline Booth in sending overflags those graves would have gone undecorated that day. 

The Commanding General then came to the front and behind him walked theSalvation Army lassies bearing the flags in their arms. 

Down the long row of graves he passed. He would take a flag from one ofthe girls, slip it in the staple back of the cross, stand a moment atsalute, then pass on to the next. It was very still that May morning, broken only by the awesome boom of battle just over the hill, but to thatsound all had grown accustomed. The people stood with that hush of sorrowover them which only the majesty of death can bring to the hearts of acrowd, and there were tears in many eyes and on the faces of roughsoldiers standing there to honor their comrades who had been called uponto give their lives to the great cause of freedom. 

A little breeze was blowing and into the solemn stillness there stole anew sound, the silken ripple of the flags as one by one they were setfluttering from the crosses, like a soft, growing, triumphant chorus ofthose to come whose lives were to be made safe because these had died. Asif the flag would waft back to the Homeland, and the stricken mothers andfathers, sisters and sweethearts, some idea of the greatness of the causein which they died to comfort them in their sorrow. 

Out through each line the General passed, placing the flags and solemnlysaluting, till eighty graves had been decorated and there was only oneleft; but there was no flag for the eighty-first grave! Somehow, althoughthey thought they had brought several more than were needed, they were oneshort. But the General stood and saluted the grave as he had the others, and later the flag was brought and put in place, so that every Americangrave in the Toul Sector that day had its flag fluttering from its cross. 

Then the General and the soldiers saluted the large flag. It was animpressive moment with the deep thunder of the guns just over the hillreminding of more battle and more lives to be laid down. 

The General then addressed the soldiers, and facing toward the West andpointing he said:

"Out there in that direction is Washington and the President, and all thepeople of the United States, who are looking to you to set the world freefrom tyranny. Over there are the mothers who have bade you good-bye withtears and sent you forth, and are waiting at home and praying for you, trusting in you. Out there are the fathers and the sisters and thesweethearts you have left behind, all depending on you to do your best forthe Right. Now, " said he in a clear ringing voice, "turn and saluteAmerica!" And they all turned and saluted toward the West, while the bandplayed softly "My Country 'Tis of Thee!"

It was a wonderful, beautiful, solemn sight, every man standing andsaluting while the flags fluttered softly on the breeze. 

Behind the little French Catholic church in the village of Bonvilliersthere was quite a large field which had been turned over to the Americansfor a cemetery. The Military Major had caused an arch to be made over thegateway inscribed with the words: "NATIONAL CEMETERY OF THE AMERICANEXPEDITIONARY FORCES. " There were over two hundred graves inside thecemetery. 

On Decoration Day the Regimental Band led a parade through the villagestreets to the graveyard, the French women in black and little Frenchchildren, with wreaths made of wonderful beaded flowers cunninglyconstructed from beads strung on fine wires, marching in the parade. Arrived at the cemetery they all stood drawn up in line while the MilitaryMajor gave a beautiful address, first in French and then in English. Hethen told the French children and women to take their places one at eachgrave, and lay down their tributes of flowers for the Americans. Followingthis the Salvation Army placed flags on each on behalf of the mothers ofthe boys who were lying there. 

It was noon-day. The sun was very bright and every white cross bearing thename of the fallen glittered in the sun. Even the worst little hovel overin France is smothered in a garden and bright with myriads of flowers, soeverything was gay with blossoms and everybody had brought as many ascould be carried. 

Over in one corner of the cemetery were two German graves, and one of thelassies of that organization which proclaims salvation for all men wentand laid some blossoms there also. 

At La Folie one of the Salvation Army lassies going across the fields onsome errand of mercy found three American graves undecorated and bare onMemorial Day, and turning aside from the road she gathered great armfulsof scarlet poppies from the fields and came and laid them on the threemounds, then knelt and prayed for the friends of the boys whose bodieswere lying there. 

The whole world was startled and saddened when the news came thatLieutenant Quentin Roosevelt had been shot down in his airplane in actionand fallen within the enemy's lines. 

He was crudely buried by the Germans where he fell, near Chambray, and arude cross set up to mark the place. All around were pieces of hisairplane shattered on the ground and left as they had fallen. 

When the spot fell into the hands of the Allies, the grave was cared forby the Salvation Army; a new white cross set up beside the old one, andgentle hands smoothed the mound and made it shapely. On Decoration DayColonel Barker placed upon this grave the beautiful flowers arranged forby cable by Commander Booth. 

The girls went down to decorate the two hundred American graves atMandres, and even while they bent over the flaming blossoms and laid themon the mounds an air battle was going on over their heads. Close at handwas the American artillery being moved to the front on a little narrow-gauge railroad that ran near to the graveyard, and the Germans were firingand trying to get them. 

But the girls went steadily on with their work, scattering flowers andsetting flags until their service of love was over. Then they stood asidefor the prayer and a song. One of the Salvation Army Captains with a finevoice began to sing:

 My loved ones in the Homeland Are waiting me to come, Where neither death nor sorrow Invades their holy home; O dear, dear native country! O rest and peace above! Christ, bring us all to the Homeland Of Thy redeeming love. 

Into the midst of the song came the engine on the little narrow trackstraight toward where he stood, and he had to step aside onto a pile ofdirt to finish his song. 

That same Captain went on ahead to the Home Land not long after when theepidemic of influenza swept over the world; and he was given the honor ofa military funeral. 

VI. 

The Baccarat Sector

Baccarat was the Zone Headquarters for that Sector. 

Down the Main street there hung a sign on an old house labeled "MODERNBAR. "

Inside everything was all torn up. It had never been opened since thebattles of 1914. The Germans had lived there and everything was in anawful condition. One wonders how they endured themselves. The Militarydetailed two men for two days to spade up and carry away the filth fromthe bedrooms, and it took two women an entire week all but one day, scrubbing all day long until their shoulders ached, to scrub the placeclean. But they got it clean. They were the kind of women that did notgive up even when a thing seemed an impossibility. This was the sort ofthing they were up against continually. They could have no meetings thatweek because they had to scrub and make the place fit for a Salvation Armyhut. 

Two of the lassies were awakened early one bright morning by the sound ofan axe ringing rhythmically on wood, just back of their canteen. It was acheerful sound to wake to, for the girls had been through a long wearingday and night, and they knew when they went to sleep that the wood wasalmost gone. It was always so pleasant to have someone offer to cut it forthem, for they never liked to have to ask help of the soldiers if theycould possibly avoid it. But there was so much else to be done besidescutting wood. Not that they could not do that, too, when the need offered. The sisters looked sleepily at one another, thinking simultaneously of thepoor homesick doughboy who had told them the day before that chopping woodfor them made him think of home and mother and that was why he liked to doit. Of course, it was he hard at work for them before they were up, andthey smiled contentedly, with a lifted prayer for the poor fellow. Theyknew he had received no mail for four months and that only a few daysbefore he had read in a paper sent to one of his pals of the death of hissister. Of course, his heart was breaking, for he knew what his widowedmother was suffering. They knew that his salvation from homesickness justnow lay in giving him something to do, so they lingered a little just togive him the chance, and planned how they would let him help with thedoughnuts, and fix the benches, later, when the wood was cut. 

In a few minutes the girls were ready for the day's work and went aroundto the kitchen, where the sound of the ringing axe was still heard insteady strokes. But when they rounded the corner of the kitchen andgreeted the wood-chopper cheerily, he looked up, and lo! it was not thehomesick doughboy as they had supposed, but the Colonel of the regimenthimself who smiled half apologetically at them, saying he liked his newjob; and when they invited him to breakfast he accepted the invitationwith alacrity. 

After breakfast the girls went to work making pies. There had been no ovenin the little French town in which they were stationed, and so baking hadbeen impossible, but the boys kept talking and talking about pies untilone day a Lieutenant found an old French stove in some ruins. They had tohalf bury it in the earth to make it strong enough for use, but managed tomake it work at last, and though much hampered by the limitations of thesmall oven, they baked enough to give all the boys a taste of pie once aweek or so. Pie day was so welcomed that it almost made a riot, so manyboys wanted a slice. 

They were having a meeting one night at Baccarat. There was a great dealof noise going on outside the dugout. The shells were falling aroundrather indiscriminately, but it takes more than shell fire to stop aSalvation Army meeting at the front. There is only one thing that willstop it, and that is a sudden troop movement. It is the same way withbaseball, for the week before this meeting two regimental baseball teamsplayed seven innings of air-tight ball while the shells were falling notthree hundred yards away at the roadside edge of their ball-ground. Duringthe seven innings only eight hits were allowed by the two pitchers. Thescore was close and when at the end of the seventh a shell exploded withinfifty yards of the diamond and an officer shouted: "Game called on accountof shell fire!" there was considerable dissatisfaction expressed becausethe game was not allowed to continue. It is with the same spirit that themen attend their religious meetings. They come because they want-to andthey won't let anything interfere with it. 

But on this particular night the meeting was in full force, and so werethe shells. It had been a meeting in which the men had taken part, led byone of the women whose leadership was unquestioned among them, a personaltestimony meeting in which several soldiers and an officer had spoken ofwhat Christ had done for them. Then there was a solo by one of thelassies, and the Adjutant opened his Bible and began to read. He took ashis text Isaiah 55:1. "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to thewaters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat. "

Those boys knew what it was to be thirsty, terrible thirst! They had comeback from the lines sometimes their tongues parched and their whole bodiesfeverish with thirst and there was nothing to be had to drink until theSalvation Army people had appeared with good cold lemonade; and when theyhad no money they had given it to them just the same. Oh, they knew whatthat verse meant and their attention was held at once as the speaker wenton to show plainly how Jesus Christ would give the water of life just asfreely to those who were thirsty for it. And they were thirsty! They didnot wish to conceal how thirsty they were for the living water. 

Just in the midst of the talk the lights went out. Many a church underlike conditions would have had a panic in no time, but this crowdedaudience sat perfectly quiet, listening as the speaker went on, quotinghis Bible from memory where he could not read. 

Over there in the corner on a bench sat the lassies, the women who hadbeen serving them all through the hard days, as quiet and calm in thedarkness as though they sat in a cushioned pew in some well-lit church inNew York. It was as if the guns were like annoying little insects thatwere outside a screen, and now and then slipped in, so little attentiondid the audience pay to them. When all those who wished to accept thiswonderful invitation were asked to come forward, seven men arose andstumbled through the darkness. The light from a bursting shell revealedfor an instant the forms of these men as they knelt at the rough bench infront, one of them with his steel helmet hanging from his arm as he prayedaloud for his own salvation. No one who was in that meeting that nightcould doubt but that Jesus Christ Himself was there, and that those menall felt His presence. 

In Bertrichamps the Salvation Army was given a large glass factory for acanteen. It made a beautiful place, and there was room to take care ofeight hundred men at a time. This building was also used by the Y. M. C. A. As well as the Jews and the Catholics for their services, there beingno other suitable place in town. But everybody worked together, and gotalong harmoniously. 

Here there were some wonderful meetings, and it was great to hear the boyssinging "When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder, I'll Be There. " Perhaps ifsome of the half-hearted Christians at home could have caught the echo ofthat song sung with such earnestness by those boyish voices they wouldhave had a revelation. It seemed as if the earth-film were more than halftorn away from their young, wise eyes over there; and they found thatearthly standards and earthly false-whisperings did not fit. They felt thespirit of the hour, they felt the spirit of the place, and of the peoplewho were serving them patiently day by day; who didn't have to stay thereand work; who might have kept in back of the lines and worked and sentthings up now and then; but who chose to stay close with them and sharetheir hardships. They felt that something more than just love to theirfellow-men had instigated such unselfishness. They knew it was somethingthey needed to help them through what was before them. They reachedhungrily after the Christ and they found Him. 

Then they testified in the meetings. Often as many as twelve or morebefore an audience of five hundred would get up and tell what Jesus hadbecome to them. In one meeting in this glass factory two hundred soldierspledged to serve the Lord, to read their Bibles, and to pray. 

There were in this place some Christian boys who came from families wherethey had been accustomed to family worship, and who now that they were faraway from it, looked back with longing to the days when it had been a partof every day. Things look different over there with the sound of battleclose at hand, and customs that had been, a part of every-day life at homebecame very dear, perhaps dearer than they had ever seemed before. Theyfound out that the Salvation Army people had prayers every night afterthey closed the canteen at half-past nine and went to their rooms in ahouse not far away, and so they begged that they might share the worshipwith them. So every night they took home fifteen or twenty men to theliving-room of the house where they stayed just as many as they couldcrowd in, and there they would have a little Bible reading and prayertogether. The Father only knows how many souls were strengthened and howmany feet kept from falling because of those brief moments of worship withthese faithful men and women of God. 

"Oh, if you only knew what it means to us!" one of the men tried to tellthem one day. 

Sometimes men who said they hadn't prayed nor read their Bibles for yearswould be found in little groups openly reading a testament to each other. 

 When the girls opened their shutters in the morning they could look outover the spot in No Man's Land which was the scene of such frightfulGerman atrocities in 1914. 

Our field artillery, stationed in the woods, sent over to the SalvationArmy to know if they wouldn't come over and cook something for them, theywere starving for some home cooking. So two of the women put on theirsteel helmets and their gas masks, for the Boche planes were flyingeverywhere, and went over across No Man's Land to see if there was a placewhere they could open up a hut. They were walking along quietly, talking, and had not noticed the German plane that approached. They were soaccustomed to seeing them by twos and threes that a single one did notattract their attention. Suddenly almost over their heads the Bochedropped a shell, trying to get them. But it was a dud and did not explode. Two American soldiers came tearing over, crying: "Girls! Are you hurt?"

"Oh, no, " said one of them brightly. "The Lord wouldn't let that fellowget us. "

The soldiers used strong language as they looked after the fast-vanishingplane, but then they glanced back at the women again with somethingunspoken in their eyes. They believed, those boys, they really did, thatGod protected those women; and they used to beg them to remain with theirregiment when they were going near the front, because they wanted theirprayers as a protection. Some of the regiments openly said they thoughtthose girls' prayers had saved their lives. 

That Boche plane, however, had not far to go. Before it reached Baccaratthe Americans trained their guns on it and brought it down in flames. 

The house occupied by the Salvation Army girls as a billet had a sad storyconnected with it. When the Germans had come the father was soon killedand four German officers had taken possession of the place for theirHeadquarters. They also took possession of the two little girls of thefamily, nine and fourteen years of age, to wait upon them. And the firstcommand that was given these children was that they should wait upon themen nude! The youngest child was not old enough to understand what thismeant, but the older one was in terror, and they begged and cried andpleaded but all to no purpose. The officer was inexorable. He told themthat if they did not obey they would be shot. 

The poor old grandfather and grandmother, too feeble to do anything, andpowerless, of course, to aid, could only endure in agony. The grandmother, telling the Salvation Army women the story afterward, pointed withtrembling lingers and streaming eyes to the two little graves in the yardand said: "Oh, it would have been so much better if he had shot them! Theylie out there as the result of their infamous and inhuman treatment. "

 Some most amusing incidents came to the knowledge of the Salvation Armyworkers. 

An old French woman, over eighty years of age, lived in one of thestricken villages on the Vosges front. Her home had been several timesstruck by shells and was frequently the target for enemy bombingsquadrons. All through the war she refused to leave the home in which shehad lived from earliest childhood. 

"It is not the guns, nor the bombs which can frighten me, " she told aSalvation Army lassie who was billeted with her for a time, "but I am verymuch afraid of the submarines. "

The village was several hundred miles inland. 

The activity was all at night, for no one dared be seen about in thedaytime. It must be a very urgent duty that would call men forth into fullview of the enemy. But as soon, as the dark came on the men would crawlinto the trenches, stick their rifles between the sandbags and get readyfor work. 

It seemed to be always raining. They said that when it wasn't actuallyraining it was either clearing off or just getting ready to rain again. Twenty minutes in the trenches and a man was all over mud, wet, cold, slippery mud. In his hair, down his neck, in his boots, everywhere. 

Through the trenches just behind the standing place ran a deeper trench ordrain to carry the water away, and this was covered over with a roughboard called a duck-board. Underneath this duck-board ran a continualstream of water. A man would go along the trench in a hurry, make amisstep on one end of the duck-board and down he would go in mud andfreezing water to the waist. In these cold, wet garments he must stay allnight. The tension was very great. 

As the soldiers had to work in the night, so the Salvation Army men andwomen worked in the night to serve them. 

The Salvation Army men would visit the sentries and bring them coffee anddoughnuts prepared in the dugouts by the girls. It was exceedinglydangerous work. They would crawl through the connecting trenches, whichwere not more than three feet deep, and one must stoop to be safe, and getto the front-line trenches with their cans of coffee. They would touch afellow on the shoulder, fill his mug with coffee, and slip him somedoughnuts. At such times the things were always given, not sold. They didnot dare even to whisper, for the enemy listening posts were close at handand the slightest breath might give away their position. The sermon wouldbe a pat of encouragement on a man's shoulder, then pass on to the next. 

One morning at three o'clock a Salvationist carried a second supply of hotcoffee to the battery positions. One gunner with tense, strained face eyedhis full coffee mug with satisfaction and said with a sigh: "Good! That isall I wanted. I can keep going until morning now!"

When the men were lined up for a raid there would be a prayer-meeting inthe dugout, thirty inside and as many as could crowded around the door. Just a prayer and singing. Then the boys would go to the girls and leavetheir little trinkets or letters, and say: "I'm going over the top, Sister. If I don't come back--if I'm kicked off--you tell mother. You willknow what to say to her to help her bear up. "

Three-quarters of an hour later what was left of them would return and thegirls would be ready with hot coffee and doughnuts. It was heart-breaking, back-aching, wonderful work, work fit for angels to do, and these girlsdid it with all their souls. 

"Aren't you tired? Aren't you afraid?" asked someone of a lassie who hadbeen working hard for forty consecutive hours, aiding the doctors incaring for the wounded, and in a lull had found time to mix up and fry abatch of doughnuts in a corner from which the roof had been completelyblown by shells. 

"Oh, no! It's great!" she replied eagerly. "I'm the luckiest girl in theworld. "

By this time the Salvation Army had acquired many great three-ton trucks, and the drivers of those risked their lives daily to carry supplies to thedugouts and huts that were taking care of the men at the front. 

There were signs all over everywhere: "ATTENTION! THE ENEMY SEES YOU!"Trucks were not allowed to go in daytime except in case of greatemergency. Sometimes in urgent cases day-passes would be given with theorder: "If you have to go, go like the devil!"

The enemy always had the range on the road where the trucks had to pass, and especially in exposed places and on cross-roads a man had no chance ifhe paused. Once he had been sighted by the enemy he was done for. A mandriving on a hasty errand once dropped his crank, and stopped his truck, to pick it up. Even as he stooped to take it a shell struck his truck andsmashed it to bits. 

Most of the travelling had to be done at night. Silently, without a lightover roads as dark as pitch, where the only possible guide was the faintline above where the trees parted and showed the sky; over rough, muddyroads, filled with shell-holes, the trucks went nightly. Just fall inline, keep to the right, and whistle softly when something got in the way. No claxon horns could be used, for that was the gas alarm. A man could noteven wear a radiolight watch on his wrist or a driver smoke a cigarette. 

One very dark night a truck came through with a man sitting away out onthe radiator watching the road and telling the driver where to go. Theonly light would be from shells exploding or occasional signal lights fora moment. 

To get supplies from where they were to where they were needed was anurgent necessity which often arose with but momentary warning--frequentlywith no warning at all. The American front was a matter not of miles, butof hundreds of miles, and the call for supplies might come from any pointalong that front. Sometimes the call meant the immediate shipment of tonsof blankets, oranges, lemons, sugar, flour for doughnuts, lard, chocolateand other materials, to a point 200 miles distant. At times a railroad maysupply a part of the route, but always there is a long, dangerous truckhaul, and usually the entire route must be covered by truck. 

During the winter there were many thrills added to the already strenuoustask of the Salvation Army truck drivers. One of them driving late atnight in a snowstorm, mistook a river for the road for which he wassearching, and turned from the real road to the snow-covered surface ofthe river, which he followed for some little distance before discoveringhis mistake. Fortunately, the ice was solid and the truck unloaded-anunusual combination. 

Another missed the road and drove into a field, where his wheels boggeddown. His fellow-traveller, driving a Ford, went for help, leaving himwith his truck, for if it had been left unguarded it would have soon beenstripped of every movable part by passing truck drivers. Here he remainedfor almost forty-eight hours, during which time there was considerableshelling. 

A Catholic Chaplain told the Salvation Army Staff-Captain that he thoughtthe reason the Salvation Army was so popular with his men was because theSalvation Army kept its promises to the men. 

When the Salvation Army officer went to open work in the town of Baccaratit was so crowded that he was unable to secure accommodations. He washaving dinner in the cafe, but could get no bread because he had no breadtickets, The local K. Of C. Man, observing his difficulty, suppliedtickets, and, finding that he had no place to sleep, offered to share hisown meagre accommodations. For several nights he shared his bed with himand the Salvation Army officer was greatly assisted by him in many ways. The Salvation Army is popular not alone among the soldiers. 

While the offensive was on in Argonne and north of Verdun, those who werein the huts in the old training area, which were then used as restbuildings, decided to do something for the boys, and on one occasion theyfried fourteen thousand doughnuts and took them to the boys at the front. They traveled in the trucks, and distributed the doughnuts to the boys asthey came from the trenches and sent others into the trenches. 

By the time they were through, the day was far spent and it was necessaryfor them to find some place to stay over night. Verdun was the only largecity anywhere near but it had either been largely destroyed or the civilpopulation had long since abandoned it and there was no place available. 

Underneath the trenches, however, there had been constructed in ancienttimes, underground passages. There are fifty miles of these undergroundgalleries honeycombed beneath the city, sufficiently large to shelter theentire population. There are cross sections of galleries, between thelonger passage ways, and winding stairways here and there. Air is suppliedby a system of pumps. There are theatres and a church, also. The Armyprotecting Verdun had occupied these underground passages. 

When the officer commanding the French troops learned that the SalvationArmy girls were obliged to stay over night, he arranged for theiraccommodation in the underground passage and here they rested in perfectsecurity with such comforts as cots and blankets could insure. 

It was said that they were the only women ever permitted to remain inthese underground passages. 

VII. 

The Chateau-Thierry-Soissons Drive

When the trouble at Seicheprey broke out the Germans began shellingBeaumont and Mandres, and things took on a very serious look for theSalvation Army. Then the Military Colonel gave an order for the girls toleave Ansauville, and loading them up on a truck he sent them to Menil-la-Tour. They never allowed girls again in that town until after the St. Mihiel drive. 

That was a wild ride in the night for those girls sitting in an armytruck, jolted over shell holes with the roar of battle all about them; theblackness of night on every side, shells bursting often near them, yetthey were as calm as if nothing were the matter; finally the car got stuckunder range of the enemy's fire, but they never flinched and they satquietly in the car in a most dangerous position for twenty minutes whilethe Colonel and the Captain were out locating a dugout. Plucky littlegirls!

The Salvation Army Staff-Captain of that zone went back in the morning toAnsauville to get the girls' personal belongings, and when he entered thecanteen he stood still and looked about him with horror and thankfulnessas he realized the narrow escape those girls had had. The windows and roofwere full of shell holes. Shrapnel had penetrated everywhere. He wentabout to examine and took pieces of shrapnel out of the flour and sugarand coffee which had gone straight through the tin containers. The vanillabottles were broken and there was shrapnel in the vanilla, shrapnel wasembedded in the wooden tops of the tables, and in the walls. 

He went to the billet where two of the girls had slept. Opposite their bedon the other side of the room was a window and over the bed was a largepicture. A shell had passed through the window and smashed the picture, shattering the glass in fragments all over the bed. Another shell hadentered the window, passed over the pillows of the bed and gone outthrough the wall by the bed. It would have gone through the temples of anysleeper in that bed. After this they kept men in Ansauville instead ofgirls. 

The next day the girls opened up the canteen at Menilla-Tour as calmly asif nothing had happened the day before. 

The boys were going down to Nevillers to rest, and while they rested thegirls cooked good things for them and used that sweet God-given influencethat makes a little piece of home and heaven wherever it is found. 

The girls did not get much rest, but then they had not come to France torest, as they often told people who were always urging them to savethemselves. They did get one bit of luxury in the shape of passes down toBeauvais. There it was possible to get a bath and the girls had not beenable to have that from the first of April to the first of July. They hadto stand in line with the officers, it is true, to take their turn at thepublic bath houses, but it was a real delight to have plenty of water foronce, for their appointments at the front had been most restricted andwater a scarce commodity. Sometimes it had been difficult to get enoughwater for the cooking and the girls had been obliged to use cold cream towash their faces for several days at a time. Of course, it was animpossibility for them to do any laundry work for themselves, as there wasneither time nor place nor facilities. Their laundry was always carried bycourier to some near-by city and brought back to them in a few days. 

The Zone Major had supper with the Colonel, who told him that none of theorganizations would be allowed on the drive. The Zone Major asked if theymight be allowed to go as far as Crepy. The Colonel much excited said:"Man, don't you know that town is being shelled every night?" The nextmorning a party of sixteen Salvation Army men and women started out in thetruck for Crepy. It was a beautiful day and they rode all day long. Atnightfall they reached the village of Crepy where they were welcomedeagerly. The Zone Major had to leave and go back and wanted them all tostay there, but they were unwilling to do so because their own outfit wasgoing over the top that night and they wanted to be with them before theyleft. They started from Crepy about five o'clock and got lost in thewoods, but finally, after wandering about for some hours, landed in RoySt. Nicholas where was the outfit to which one of the girls belonged. 

The Salvation Army boys had just pulled in with another truck and weregetting ready for the night, for they always slept in their trucks. Thegirls decided to sit down in the road until the billeting officer arrived, but time passed and no billeting officer came. They were growing veryweary, so they got into the Colonel's car, which stood at the roadside, and went to sleep. A little later the billeting officer appeared with manyapologies and offered to take them to the billet that had been set asidefor them. They took their rolls of blankets, and climbed sleepily out ofthe car, following him two blocks down the street to an old building. Butwhen they reached there they found that some French officers had takenpossession and were fast asleep, so they went back to the car and slepttill morning. At daylight they went down to a brook to wash but found thatthe soldiers were there ahead of them, and they had to go back and becontent with freshening up with cold cream. Thus did these lassies, accustomed to daintiness in their daily lives, accommodate themselves tothe necessities of war, as easily and cheerfully as the soldier boysthemselves. 

That day the rest of the outfits arrived, and they all pulled into MorteFontaine. 

Morte Fontaine was well named because there was no water in the town fitto use. 

The girls felt they were needed nearer the front, so they went to MajorPeabody and asked permission. 

"I should say not!" he replied vigorously with yet a twinkle of admirationfor the brave lassies. "But you can take anything you want in this town. "

So the girls went out and found an old building. It was very dirty butthey went cheerfully to work, cleaned it up, and started their canteen. 

There was a hospital in the town; they knew that by the many ambulancesthat were continually going back and forth; so they offered their servicesto the doctors, which were eagerly accepted. After that they took turnsstaying in the canteen and going to the hospital. 

The hospital was fearfully crowded, though it was in no measure the faultof the hospital authorities, for they were doing their best, working withall their might; but it had not been expected that there would be so manywounded at this point and they had not adequate accommodations. Many ofthe wounded boys were lying on the ground in the sun, covered with bloodand flies, and parched with thirst and fever. There were not enoughambulances to carry them further back to the base hospitals. 

The girls stretched pieces of canvas over the heads of the poor boys tokeep off the sun; they got water and washed away the blood; and they sentone of their indefatigable truck drivers after some water to makelemonade. The little Adjutant twinkled his nice brown eyes and set hisfirm merry lips when they told him to get the water, in that place of nowater, but he took his little Ford car and whirled away without a word, and presently he returned with a barrel of ice-cold water from a spring hehad found two miles away. How the girls rejoiced that it was ice cold! Andthen they started making lemonade. They had known that the Adjutant wouldfind water somewhere. He was the man the doughboys called "one game littleguy, " because he was so fearless in going into No Man's Land after thewounded, so indefatigable in accomplishing his purpose against all odds, so forgetful of self. 

They had but one crate of lemons, one crate of oranges and one bag ofsugar when they began making lemonade, but before they needed more itarrived just on the minute. It was almost like a miracle. For a whole carload of oranges and lemons had been shipped to Beauvais and arrived a daytoo late--after the troops had gone. They were of no use there, so theZone Major had them shipped at once to the railhead at Crepy, and got aspecial permit to go over with trucks and take them up to Morte Fontaine. 

The Salvation Army never does things by halves. Colonel Barker sent toParis to get some mosquito netting to keep the flies off those soldiers, and failing to find any in the whole city he bought $10, 000 worth of whitenet, such as is used for ladies' collars and dresses--ten thousand yardsat a dollar a yard--and sent it down to the hospital where it was usedover the wounded men, sometimes over a wounded arm or leg or head, sometimes over a whole man, sometimes stretched as netting in the windows. And no ten thousand dollars was ever better spent, for the fliesoccasioned indescribable suffering as well as the peril of infection. 

Wonderful relief and comfort all these things brought to those poor boyslying there in agony and fever. How delicious were the cooling drinks totheir parched lips! The doctors afterward said that it was the cool drinksthose girls gave to the men that saved many a life that day. 

There were some poor fellows hurt in the abdomen who were not allowed todrink even a drop and who begged for it so piteously. For these the girlsdid all in their power. They bathed their faces and hands and dippinggauze in lemonade they moistened their lips with it. 

The other day, after the war was over and a ship came sailing into NewYork harbor, one of these same fellows standing on the deck looked down atthe wharf and saw one of these same girls standing there to welcome him. As soon as he was free to leave the ship he rushed down to find her, andgripping her hand eagerly he cried out so all around could hear: "Yousaved my life that day. Oh, but I'm glad to see you! The doctor said itwas that cold lemonade you gave me that kept me from dying of fever!"

In one base hospital lay a boy wounded at Chateau-Thierry. Of course, whenwounded, he lost all his possessions, including a Testament which he verymuch treasured. The Salvation Army supplied him with another, but it didnot comfort him as the old one had done. He said that it could never bethe same as the one he had carried for so long. He worried so much abouthis Testament, that one of the lassies finally attempted to recover it, and, after much trouble, succeeded through the Bureau of Effects. Thelittle book, which the soldier had always carried with him, was blood-soaked and mud-stained; but it was an unmistakable aid in the lad'srecovery. 

But the honor of those days in Morte Fontaine was not all due to theSalvation Army lassies. The Salvation Army truck drivers were real heroes. They came with their ambulances and their trucks and they carried the poorwounded fellows back to the base hospitals. The hospitals were fulleverywhere near there, and sometimes they would go from one to another andhave to drive miles, and even go from one town to another to find a placewhere there was room to receive the men they carried. Then back they wouldcome for another load. They worked thus for three days and five nightssteadily, before they slept, and some of them stripped to the waist andbared their breasts to the sharp night wind so that the cold air wouldkeep them awake to the task of driving their cars through the black nightwith its precious load of human lives. They had no opportunity for rest ofany kind, no chance to shave or wash or sleep, and they were a haggard andworn looking set of men when it was over. 

While all this was going on the Zone Major kept out of sight of theColonel who had told him he couldn't go out on that drive; but two dayslater he saw his familiar car coming down the road and the Colonel seemedgreatly agitated. He was shaking his fist in front of him. 

The Zone Major pondered whether he would not better drive right on withoutstopping to talk, but he reflected that he would have to take hispunishment some time and he might as well get it over with, so when theColonel's car drew near he stopped. The Colonel got out and the Zone Majorgot out, and it was apparent that the Colonel was very angry. He forgotentirely that the Zone Major was a Salvationist and he swore roundly: "I'mout with you for life" declared the Colonel angrily. "The General's upsetand I'm upset. "

"Why, what's the matter, Colonel?" asked the Zone Major innocently. 

"Matter enough! You had no business to bring those girls up here!"

The Colonel said more to the same effect, and then got into his car anddrove off. The Zone Major wisely kept out of his way; but a few days latermet him again and this time the Colonel was smiling:

"Dog-gone you, Major, where've you been keeping yourself? Why haven't youbeen around?" and he put out his hand affably. 

"Why, I didn't want to see a man who bawled me out in the public highwaythat way, " said the Zone Major. 

"Well, Major, you had no business to bring those girls up here and youknow it!" said the Colonel rousing to the old subject again. 

"Why not, Colonel, didn't they do fine?"

"Yes, they did, " said the Colonel with tears springing suddenly into hiseyes and a huskiness into his voice, "but, Major, think what if we'd lostone of them!"

"Colonel, " said the Zone Major gently, "my girls are soldiers. They comeup here to share the dangers with the soldiers, and as long as they can beof service they feel this is the place for them. "

The Colonel struggled with his emotion for a moment and then said gruffly:"Had anything to eat? Stop and take a bite with me. " And they sat downunder the trees and had supper together. 

It was at this town that the girls slept in a German-dug cave, in whichour boys had captured seven hundred Germans, the commanding officer ofwhom said that according to his rank in Germany he ought to have a car totake him to the rear. However, he was compelled to leg it at the point ofan American bayonet in the hands of an American doughboy. The cave was ofchalk rock made to store casks of wine. 

The airplanes were bad in this place. One speaks of airplanes in such aconnection in the same way one used to mention mosquitoes at certainJersey seashore resorts. But they were particularly bad at Morte Fontaine, and Major Peabody ordered the canteen to be moved out of the village tothe cave. More Salvation Army girls came to look after the canteen leavingthe first girls free for longer hours at the hospital. 

One beautiful moonlight night the girls had just started out from thehospital to go to their cave when they heard a German airplane, theirregular chug, chug of its engine distinguishing it unmistakably from thesmooth whirr of the Allies' planes. The girls looked up and almost overtheir heads was an enemy plane, so low that they could see the insignia onhis machine, and see the man in the car. He seemed to be looking down atthem. In sudden panic they fled to a nearby tree and hid close under itsbranches. Standing there they saw the enemy make a low dip over thehospital tents, drop a bomb in the kitchen end just where they had beenworking five minutes before, and slide up again through the silvery air, curve away and dive down once more. 

The scene was bright as day for the moon was full and very clear thatnight, and the roads stretched out in every direction like white ribbons. One block away the girls could see a regiment of Scotch soldiers, thefamous Highland Regiment called "The Ladies From Hell, " marching up to thefront that night, and singing bravely as they marched, their skirlingScotch songs accompanied by a bagpipe. And even as they listened withbated breath and straining eyes the airplane dipped and dropped anotherbomb right into the midst of the brave men, killing thirty of them, andslid up and away before it could be stopped. These were the scenes towhich they grew daily accustomed as they plied their angel mission, anddaily saw themselves preserved as by a miracle from constant peril. 

We had about eight or ten German prisoners here, who were employed aslitter bearers, and very good workers they were, tickled to death to bethere instead of over on their own side fighting. Most of the prisoners, except some of the German officers, seemed glad to be taken. 

These German prisoners were sitting in a row on the ground outside thehospital one day when the Salvation Army girls and men were picking over acrate of oranges. The Germans sat watching them with longing eyes. 

"Let's give them each one, " proposed one of the girls. 

"No! Give them a punch in the nose!" said the boys. 

The girls said nothing more and went on working. Presently they steppedaway for a few minutes and when they came back the Germans sat therecontentedly eating oranges. Questioningly the girls looked at their malecoworkers and with lifted brows asked: "What does this mean?"

"Aw, well! The poor sneaks looked so longingly!" said one of the boys, grinning sheepishly. 

There in the hospital the girls came into contact with the splendid spiritof the American soldier boys, "Don't help me, help that fellow over therewho is suffering!" was heard over and over again when they went to bringcomfort to some wounded boy. 

When the supplies in the canteen would run out, and the last doughnutwould be handed with the words: "That's the last, " the boy to whom it wasgiven would say: "Don't give it to me, give it to Harry. I don't want it. "

It was during that drive and there was a farewell meeting at one of theSalvation Army huts that night for the boys who were going up to thetrenches. It was a beautiful and touching meeting as always on suchoccasions. Starting with singing whatever the boys picked out, it droppedquickly into the old hymns that the boys loved and then to a simpleearnest prayer, setting forth the desperate case of those who were goingout to fight, and appealing to the everlasting Saviour for forgiveness andrefuge. They lingered long about the fair young girl who was leading them, listening to her earnest, plain words of instruction how to turn to theSaviour of the world in their need, how to repent of their sins and takeChrist for their Saviour and Sanctifier. No man who was in that meetingwould dare plead ignorance of the way to be saved. Many signified theirdesire to give their lives into the keeping of Christ before they went tothe front. The meeting broke up reluctantly and the men drifted out andaway, expecting soon to be called to go. But something happened that theydid not go that night. Meantime, a company had just returned from thefront, weary, hungry, worn and bleeding, with their nerves unstrung, andtheir spirits desperate from the tumult and horror of the hours they hadjust passed in battle. They needed cheering and soothing back to normal. The girls were preparing to do this with a bright, cheery entertainment, when a deputation of boys from the night before returned. There was awistful gleam in the eyes of the young Jew who was spokesman for the groupas he approached the lassie who had led the meeting. 

"Say, Cap, you see we didn't go up. "

"I see, " she smiled happily. 

"Say, Cap, won't you have another farewell meeting to-night?" he askedwith an appealing glance in his dark eyes. 

"Son, we've arranged something else just now for the fellows who arecoming back, " she said gently, for she hated to refuse such a request. 

"Oh, say, Cap, you can have that later, can't you? We want another meetingnow. "

There was something so pleading in his voice and eyes, so hungry in thelook of the waiting group, that the young Captain could not deny him. Shelooked at him hesitatingly, and then said:

"All right. Go out and tell the boys. "

He hurried out and soon the company came crowding in. That hour the veryLord came down and communed with them as they sang and knelt to pray, andnot a heart but was melted and tender as they went out when it was over inthe solemn darkness of the early morning. A little later the order cameand they "went over. "

It was a sharp, fierce fight, and the young Jew was mortally wounded. Somecomrades found him as he lay white and helpless on the ground, and bendingover saw that he had not long to stay. They tried to lift him and bear himback, but he would not let them. He knew it was useless. 

They asked him if he had any message. He nodded. Yes, he wanted to send amessage to the Salvation Army girls. It was this:

"Tell the girls I've gone West; for I will be by the time you tell them;and tell them it's all right for at that second meeting I accepted Christand I die resting on the same Saviour that is theirs. "

One of our wonderful boys out on the drive had his hand blown off anddidn't realize it. His chum tried to drag him back and told him his handwas gone. 

"That's nothing!" he cried. "Tie it up!"

But they forced him back lest he would bleed to death. In the hospitalthey told him that now he might go home. 

"Go home!" he cried. "Go home for the loss of a left hand! I'm not left-handed. Maybe I can't carry a gun, but I can throw hand grenades!"

He went to the Major and the Major said also that he must go home. 

The boy looked him straight in the eye:

"Excuse me, Major, saying I won't. But _I won't let go your coat_till you say I can stay, " and finally the Major had to give in and let himstay. He could not resist such pleading. 

One poor fellow, wounded in his abdomen, was lying on a litter in a mostuncomfortable position suffering awful pain. The lassie came near andasked if she could do anything for him. He told her he wanted to lie onhis stomach, but the doctor, when she asked him, said "No" very shortlyand told her he must lie on his back. She stooped and turned him so thathis position was more comfortable, put his gas mask under his head, rolledhis blanket so as to support his shoulders better, and turned to go toanother, and the poor suffering lad opened his eyes, held out his hand andsmiled as she went away. 

The doctors said to the girls: "It is wonderful to have you around. "

The Red Cross men and their rolling kitchens came to the front, but nowomen. Somehow in pain and sickness no hand can sooth like a woman's. Perhaps God meant it to be so. Here at Morte Fontaine was the first time awoman had ever worked in a field hospital. 

The Salvation Army women worked all that drive. 

It was a sad time, though, for the division went in to stay until theylost forty-five hundred men, but it stayed two days after reaching thatfigure and lost about seventy-five thousand. 

The doctor in charge of the evacuation hospital at Crepy spoke of theeffect of the Salvation Army girls, not alone upon the wounded, but alsoupon the medical-surgical staff and the men of the hospital corps whoacted as nurses in that advanced position. "Before they came, " he said, "we were overwrought, everyone seemed at the breaking point, what with thenervous tension and danger. But the very sight of women working calmly hada soothing effect on everyone. "

When the drive was over orders came to leave. The following is theofficial notice to the Salvation Army officers:

G-1 Headquarters, 1st Division, American Expeditionary Forces, July 26, 1918. 

_Memorandum. _

To Directors, Y. M. C. A. , Red Cross, Salvation Army Services, 1st Division. 

1. This division moves by rail to destination unknown beginning at 6. 00A. M. , July 28th. Motor organizations of the Division move overland. Yourmotorized units will accompany the advanced section of the Division SupplyTrain, and will form a part of that train. 

2. Time of departure and routes to be taken will be announced later. 

3. Secretaries attached to units may accompany units, if it is so desired. 

By command of Major-General Summerall. 

 P. E. Peabody, Captain, Infantry, G-1

Copies:YMCARed CrossSalvation ArmyG-3C. Of S. File

The girls stowed themselves and their belongings into the big truck. Justas they were about to start they saw some infantry coming, seven men whomthey knew, but in such a plight! They were unshaven, with white, sunkenfaces, and great dark hollows under their eyes. They were simply "all in, "and could hardly walk. 

Without an instant's hesitation the girls made a place for those poor, tired, dirty men in the truck, and the invitation was gratefully accepted. 

There were more poor forlorn fellows coming along the road. They keptmeeting them every little way, but they had no room to take in any more sothey piled oranges in the back end of the truck and gave them to all theboys they passed who were walking. 

Now the girls were on their way to Senlis, where they had planned to takedinner at a hotel in which they had dined before. It was one of the fewbuildings remaining in the town for the Germans, when they left Senlis, had set it on fire and destroyed nearly everything. But as the girlsneared the town they began to think about the boys asleep in the back ofthe truck, who probably hadn't had a square meal for a week, and theydecided to take them with them. So they woke them up when they arrived atthe hotel. Oh, but those seven dirty, unshaven soldiers were embarrassedwith the invitation to dinner! At first they declined, but the girlsinsisted, and they found a place to wash and tidy up themselves a bit. Ina few minutes into the big dining-room filled with French soldiers and agoodly sprinkling of French officers, marched those two girls, followed bytheir seven big unshaven soldiers with their white faces and hollow eyes, sat proudly down at a table in the very centre and ordered a big dinner. That is the kind of girls Salvation Army lassies are. Never ashamed to doa big right thing. 

After the dinner they took the boys to their divisional headquarters, where they found their outfit. 

They went on their way from Senlis to Dam-Martin to stay for a week backof the lines for rest. 

There was a big French cantonment building here built for moving pictures, which was given to them for a canteen, and they set up their stove andwent to work making doughnuts, and doing all the helpful things they couldfind to do for the boys who were soon to go to the front again. 

Then orders came to move back to the Toul Sector. 

 Those were wonderful moonlight nights at Saizerais, but the Bocheairplanes nearly pestered the life out of everybody. 

"Gee!" said one of the boys, "if anybody ever says 'beautiful moonlightnights' to me when I get home I don't know what I'll do to 'em!"

The boys were at the front, but not fighting as yet. Occasional shellswould burst about their hut here and there, but the girls were not muchbothered by them. The thing that bothered them most was an old "Vin" shopacross the street that served its wine on little tables set out in fronton the sidewalk. They could not help seeing that many of the boys werebeginning to drink. Poor souls! The water was bad and scarce, sometimespoisoned, and their hearts were sick for something, and this was all thatpresented itself. It was not much wonder. But when the girls discoveredthe state of things they sent off three or four boys with a twenty-gallontank to scout for some water. They found it after much search and filledthe big tank full of delicious lemonade, telling the boys to helpthemselves. 

All the time they were in that town, which was something like a week, thegirls kept that tank full of lemonade close by the door. They must havemade seventy-five or a hundred gallons of lemonade every day, and they hadto squeeze all the lemons by hand, too! They told the boys: "When you feelthirsty just come here and get lemonade as often as you want it!" Nowonder they almost worship those girls. And they had the pleasure ofseeing the trade of the little wine shop decidedly decrease. 

However near the front you may go you will always find what is known overthere in common parlance as a "hole in the wall" where "vin blanche" and"vin rouge" and all kinds of light wines can be had. And, of course, manysoldiers would drink it. The Salvation Army tried to supply a great needby having carloads of lemons sent to the front and making and distributinglemonade freely. 

One cannot realize the extent of this proposition without counting up allthe lemons and sugar that would be required, and remembering that supplieswere obtained only by keeping in constant touch with the Headquarters ofthat zone and always sending word immediately when any need wasdiscovered. There is nothing slow about the Salvation Army and they arenot troubled with too much red tape. If necessity presents itself theywill even on occasion cut what they have to help someone. 

The airplanes visited them every night that week, and sometimes they didnot think it worth while to go to bed at all; they had to run to thesafety trenches so often. It was just a little bit of a village withdugouts out on the edge. 

One night they had gone to bed and a terrific explosion occurred whichrocked the little house where they were. They thought of course the bombhad fallen in the village, but they found it was quite outside. It hadmade such a big hole in the ground that you could put a whole truck intoit. 

The trenches in which they hid were covered over with boards and sand, andwere not bomb proof, but they were proof against pieces of shell andshrapnel. 

It was a very busy time for the girls because so many different outfitswere passing and repassing that they had to work from morning early tilllate at night. 

At Bullionville the hut was in a building that bore the marks of muchshelling. The American boys promptly dubbed the place "Souptown. "

The Division moved to Vaucouleurs for rest and replacements. AtVaucouleurs there was a great big hut with a piano, a victrola, and acookstove. 

They started the canteen, made doughnuts and pies, and gaveentertainments. 

But best of all, there were wonderful meetings and numbers of conversions, often twenty and twenty-five at a time giving themselves to Christ. Theboys would get up and testify of their changed feelings and of what Christnow meant to them, and the others respected them the more for it. 

They stayed here two weeks and everybody knew they were getting ready fora big drive. It was a solemn time for the boys and they seemed to drawnearer to the Salvation Army people and long to get the secret of theirbrave, unselfish lives, and that light in their eyes that defied dangerand death. In the distance you could hear the artillery, and the nightbefore they left, all night long, there was the tramp, tramp, tramp offeet, the boys "going up. "

The next day the girls followed in a truck, stopping a few days at Pagny-sur-Meuse for rest. 

VIII. 

The Saint Mihiel Drive

The hut in Raulecourt was an old French barracks. Outside in the yard wasan old French anti-aircraft gun and a mesh of barbed wire entanglement. The woods all around was filled with our guns. To the left was the enemy'sthird line trench. Three-quarters of the time the Boche were trying toclean us up. Less than two miles ahead were our own front line trenches. 

The field range was outside in the back yard. 

One hot day in July a Salvation Army woman stood at the range fryingdoughnuts from eleven in the morning until six at night without resting, and scarcely stopping for a bite to eat. She fried seventeen hundreddoughnuts, and was away from the stove only twice for a few minutes. Sheclaims, however, that she is not the champion doughnut fryer. The championfried twenty-three hundred in a day. 

One day a soldier watching her tired face as she stood at the rangelifting out doughnuts and plopping more uncooked ones into the fat, protested. 

"Say, you're awfully tired turning over doughnuts. Let me help you. You goinside and rest a while. I'm sure I can do that. "

She was tired and the boy looked eager, so she decided to accept hisoffer. He was very insistent that she go away and rest, so she slipped inbehind a screen to lie down, but peeped out to watch how he was gettingon. She saw him turn over the first doughnuts all right and drain them, but he almost burned his fingers trying to eat one before it was fairlyout of the fat; and then she understood why he had been so anxious for herto "_go away_" and rest. 

Often the boys would come to the lassies and say: "Say, Cap, I can helpyou. Loan me an apron. " And soon they would be all flour from their chinto their toes. 

They would come about four o'clock to find out what time the doughnutswould be ready for serving, and the girls usually said six o'clock so thatthey would be able to fry enough to supply all the regiment. But the menwould start to line up at half-past four, knowing that they could not beserved until six, so eager were they for these delicacies. When sixo'clock came each man would get three doughnuts and a cup of deliciouscoffee or chocolate. A great many doughnut cutters were worn out as thedays went by and the boys frequently had to get a new cutter made. Sometimes they would take the top of quite a large-sized can or anythingtin that they could lay hands on from which to make it. One boy found thetop of an extra large sized baking powder tin and took it to have asmaller cutter soldered in the centre. Sometimes they used the top of theshaving soap box for this. When he got back to the hut the cook exclaimedin dismay: "Why, but it's too big!"

"Oh, that's all right, " said the doughboy nonchalantly. 

"That'll be all the better for us. We'll get more doughnut. You alwaysgive us three anyway, you know. The size don't count. "

They were always scheming to get more pie and more doughnuts and wouldstand in line for hours for a second helping. One day the Salvation Armywoman grew indignant over a noticeably red-headed boy who had had threehelpings and was lining up for a fourth. She stood majestically at thehead of the line and pointed straight at him: "You! With the red head downthere! Get out of the line!"

"She's got my number all right!" said the red-headed one, grinningsheepishly as he dropped back. 

The town of Raulecourt was often shelled, but one morning just beforedaybreak the enemy started in to shell it in earnest. Word came that thegirls had better leave as it was very dangerous to remain, but the girlsthought otherwise and refused to leave. One might have thought theyconsidered that they were real soldiers, and the fate of the day dependedupon them. And perhaps more depended upon them than they knew. Howeverthat was they stayed, having been through such experiences before. For theolder woman, however, it was a first experience. She took it calmlyenough, going about her business as if she, too, were an old soldier. 

On the evening of June 14th they made fudge for the boys who were going toleave that night for the front lines. 

For several hours the tables in the hut were filled with men writingletters to loved ones at home, and the women and girls had sheets of paperfilled with addresses to which they had promised to write if the boys didnot come back. 

At last one of the men got up with his finished letter and quietly removedthe phonograph and a few of its devotees who were not going up to thefront yet, placing them outside at a safe distance from the hut. A soldierfollowed, carrying an armful of records, and the hut was cleared for themen who were "going in" that night. 

For a little while they ate fudge and then they sang hymns for anotherhalf hour, and had a prayer. It was a very quiet little meeting. Not muchsaid. Everyone knew how solemn the occasion was. Everyone felt it might behis last among them. It was as if the brooding Christ had made Himselffelt in every heart. Each boy felt like crying out for some strong arm tolean upon in this his sore need. Each gave himself with all his heart tothe quiet reaching up to God. It was as if the eating of that fudge hadbeen a solemn sacrament in which their souls were brought near to God andto the dear ones they might never see on this earth again. If any one hadcome to them then and suggested the Philosophy of Nietzsche it would havefound little favor. They knew, here, in the face of death, that the Deathof Jesus on the Cross was a soul satisfying creed. Those who had acceptedHim were suddenly taken within the veil where they saw no longer through aglass darkly, but with a face-to-face sense of His presence. They haddropped away their self assurance with which they had either conquered orignored everything so far in life, and had become as little children, ready to trust in the Everlasting Father, without whom they had suddenlydiscovered they could not tread the ways of Death. 

Then came the call to march, and with a last prayer the boys filedsilently out into the night and fell into line. A few minutes later thesteady tramp of their feet could be heard as they went down the streetthat led to the front. 

Later in the night, quite near to morning, there came a terrific shock ofartillery fire that heralded a German raid. The fragile army cots rockedlike cradles in the hut, dishes rolled and danced on the shelves andtables, and were dashed to fragments on the floor. Shells wailed andscreamed overhead; and our guns began, until it seemed that all the soundsof the universe had broken forth. In the midst of it all the gas alarmsounded, the great electric horns screeching wildly above the babel ofsound. The women hurried into their gas masks, a bit flustered perhaps, but bearing their excitement quietly and helping each other until all weresafely breathing behind their masks. 

The next day several times officers came to the hut and begged the womento leave and go to a place of greater safety, but they decided not to gounless they were ordered away. On June 19th one of them wrote in herdiary: "Shells are still flying all about us, but our work is here and wemust stay. God will protect us. " Once when things grew quiet for a littlewhile she went to the edge of the village and watched the shells fallingon Boucq, where one of her friends was stationed, and declared: "It looksawfully bad, almost as bad as it sounds. "

The next morning as the firing gradually died away, Salvation Army peoplehurried up to Raulecourt from near-by huts to find out how these bravewomen were, and rejoiced unspeakably that every one was safe and well. 

That night there was another wonderful meeting with the boys who weregoing to the front, and after it the weary workers slept soundly the wholenight through, quietly and undisturbed, the first time for a week. 

It was a bright, beautiful Sunday morning, June 23, 1918, when a littleparty of Salvationists from Raulecourt started down into the trenches. Themuddy, dirty, unpleasant trenches! Sometimes with their two feet firmlyplanted on the duck-board, sometimes in the mud! Such mud! If you got bothfeet on it at once you were sure you were planted and would soon begin togrow!

As soon as they reached the trenches they were told: "Keep your headsdown, ladies, the snipers are all around!" It was an intense moment asthey crept into the narrow housings where the men had to spend so muchtime. But it was wonderful to watch the glad light that came into themen's eyes as they saw the women. 

"Here's a real, honest-to-goodness American woman in the trenches!"exclaimed a homesick lad as they came around a turn. 

"Yes, your mother couldn't come to-day, " said the motherly Salvationist, smiling a greeting, "so I've come in her place. "

"All right!" said he, entering into the game. "This is Broadway and that'sForty-second Street. Sit down. "

Of course there was nothing to sit down on in the trenches. But he huntedabout till he found a chow can and turned it up for a seat, and they had apleasant talk. 

"Just wait, " he said. "I'll show you a picture of the dearest little girla fellow ever married and the darlingest little kid ever a man was fatherto!" He fumbled in his breast pocket right over his heart and brought outtwo photographs. 

"I'd give my right arm to see them this minute, but for all that, " he wenton, "I wouldn't leave till we've fought this thing through to Berlin andgiven them a dose of what they gave little Belgium!"

They went up and down the trenches, pausing at the entrances to dugouts tosmile and talk with the men. Once, where a grassy ridge hid the trenchfrom the enemy snipers, they were permitted to peep over, but there was nolook of war in the grassy, placid meadow full of flowers that men called"No Man's Land. " It seemed hard to believe, that sunny, flower-starredmorning, that Sin and Hate had the upper hand and Death was abroadstalking near in the sunlight. 

It was a twelve-mile walk through the trenches and back to the hut, andwhen they returned they found the men were already gathering for theevening meeting. 

That night, at the close of a heart-searching talk, eighty-five men aroseto their feet in token that they would turn from the ways of sin andaccept Christ as their Saviour, and many more raised their hands forprayers. One of the women of this party in her three months in France sawmore than five hundred men give themselves to Christ and promise to serveHim the rest of their lives. 

A little Adjutant lassie who was stationed at Boucq went away from thetown for a few hours on Saturday, and when she returned the next day shefound the whole place deserted. A big barrage had been put over in thelittle, quiet village while she was away and the entire inhabitants hadtaken refuge in the General's dugout. Her husband, who had brought herback, insisted that she should return to the Zone Headquarters at Ligny-en-Barrios, where he was in charge, and persuaded her to start with him, but when they reached Menil-la-Tour and found that the division Chaplainwas returning to Boucq she persuaded her husband that she must return withthe Chaplain to her post of duty. 

That night she and the other girls slept outside the dugout in littletents to leave more room in the dugout for the French women with theirlittle babies. At half-past three in the morning the Germans started theirshelling once more. After two hours, things quieted down somewhat and thegirls went to the hut and prepared a large urn of coffee and two bigbatches of hot biscuits. While they were in the midst of breakfast therewas another barrage. All day they were thus moving backward and forwardbetween the hut and the dugout, not knowing when another barrage wouldarrive. The Germans were continually trying to get the chateau where theGeneral had his headquarters. One shell struck a house where seven boyswere quartered, wounding them all and killing one of them. Things got sobad that the Divisional Headquarters had to leave; the General sent hiscar and transferred the girls with all their things to Trondes. This wasback of a hill near Boucq. They arrived at three in the afternoon, put uptheir stove and began to bake. By five they were serving cake they hadbaked. The boys said: "What! Cake already?" The soldiers put up the hutand had it finished in six hours. 

While all this was going on the Salvation Army friends over at Raulecourthad been watching the shells falling on Boueq, and been much troubledabout them. 

These were stirring times. No one had leisure to wonder what had become ofhis brother, for all were working with all their might to the one greatend. 

Up north of Beaumont two aviators were caught by the enemy's fire andforced to land close to the enemy nests. Instead of surrendering theAmericans used the guns on their planes and held off the Germans untildarkness fell, when they managed to escape and reach the American lines. This was only one of many individual feats of heroism that helped to turnthe tide of battle. The courage and determination, one might say theenthusiasm, of the Americans knew no bounds. It awed and overpowered theenemy by its very eagerness. The Americans were having all they could doto keep up with the enemy. The artillerymen captured great numbers ofenemy cannon, ammunition, food and other supplies, which the trucksgathered up and carried far to the front, where they were ready for thedoughboys when they arrived. One of the greatest feats of engineering everaccomplished by the American Army was the bridging of the Meuse, in theregion of Stenay, under terrible shell fire, using in the work of buildingthe pontoons the Boche boats and materials captured during the fighting atChateau-Thierry and which had been brought from Germany for the Kaiser'sParis offensive in July. The Meuse had been flooded until it was a milewide, yet there was more than enough material to bridge it. 

As the Americans advanced, village after village was set free which hadbeen robbed and pillaged by the Germans while under their domination. TheYankee trucks as they returned brought the women and children back fromout of the range of shell fire, and they were filled with wonder as theyheard the strange language on the tongues of their rescuers. They knew itwas not the German, but they had many of them never seen an Americanbefore. The Germans had told them that Americans were wild and barbarouspeople. Yet these men gathered the little hungry children into their armsand shared their rations with them. There were three dirty, hungry littlechildren, all under ten years of age, Yvonne, Louisette and Jeane, whosefather was a sailor stationed at Marseilles. Yvonne was only four years ofage, and she told the soldiers she had never seen her father. They climbedinto the big truck and sat looking with wonder at the kindly men whofilled their hands with food and asked them many questions. By and by, they comprehended that these big, smiling, cheerful men were going to takethe whole family to their father. What wonder, what joy shone in theireager young eyes!

Strange and sad and wonderful sights there were to see as the soldierswent forward. 

A pioneer unit was rushed ahead with orders to conduct its own campaignand choose its own front, only so that contact was established with theenemy, and to this unit was attached a certain little group of SalvationArmy people. Three lassies, doing their best to keep pace with their ownpeople, reached a battered little town about four o'clock in the morning, after a hard, exciting ride. 

The supply train had already put up the tent for them, and they wereordered to unfold their cots and get to sleep as soon as possible. Butinstead of obeying orders these indomitable girls set to work makingdoughnuts and before nine o'clock in the morning they had made and wereserving two thousand doughnuts, with the accompanying hot chocolate. 

The shells were whistling overhead, and the doughboys dropped into nearbyshell holes when they heard them coming, but the lassies paid no heed andmade doughnuts all the morning, under constant bombardment. 

Bouconville was a little village between Raulecourt and the trenches. Init there was left no civilian nor any whole house. Nothing but shot-downhouses, dugouts and camouflages, Y. M. C. A. , Salvation Army and enlistedmen. 

Dead Man's Curve was between Mandres and Beaumont. The enemy's eye wasalways upon it and had its range. 

Before the St. Mihiel drive one could go to Bouconville or Raulecourt onlyat night. As soon as it was dark the supply outfits on the trucks would belined up awaiting the word from the Military Police to go. 

Everyone had to travel a hundred yards apart. Only three men would beallowed to go at once, so dangerous was the trip. 

Out of the night would come a voice:

"Halt! Who goes there? Advance and give the countersign. "

Every man was regarded as an enemy and spy until he was proven otherwise. And the countersign had to be given mighty quick, too. So the men werewarned when they were sent out to be ready with the countersign and not tohesitate, for some had been slow to respond and had been promptly shot. The ride through the night in the dark without lights, without sound, overrough, shell-plowed roads had plenty of excitement. 

Bouconville for seven months could never be entered by day. The dugoutwall of the hut was filled with sandbags to keep it up. It was atBouconville, in the Salvation Army hut, that the raids on the enemy wereorganized, the men were gathered together and instructed, and trenchknives given out; and here was where they weeded out any who were afraidthey might sneeze or cough and so give warning to the enemy. 

Not until after the St. Mihiel drive when Montsec was behind the lineinstead of in front did they dare enter Bouconville by day. 

Passing through Mandres, it was necessary to go to Beaumont, around DeadMan's Curve and then to Rambucourt, and proceed to Bouconville. Here theSalvation Army had an outpost in a partially destroyed residence. The hutconsisted of the three ground floor rooms, the canteen being placed in themiddle. The sleeping quarters were in a dugout just at the rear of thesebuildings. It was in the building adjoining this hut that three men werekilled one day by an exploding shell, and gas alarms were so frequent inthe night that it was very difficult for the Salvation Army people tosecure sufficient rest as on the sounding of every gas alarm it wasnecessary to rise and put on the gas mask and keep it on until the"alerte" was removed. This always occurred several times during the night. 

[Illustration: Map]

It was just outside of Bouconville that the famous doughnut truckexperience occurred. The supply truck, driven by two young Salvation Armymen, one a mere boy, was making its rounds of the huts with supplies andin order to reach Raulecourt, the boy who was driving decided to take theshortest road, which, by the way, was under complete observation of theGermans located at Montsec. The truck had already been shelled on its wayto Bouconville, several shells landing at the edge of the road within afew feet of it. They had not noticed the first shell, for shells were asomewhat common thing, and the old truck made so much noise that they hadnot heard it coming, but when the second one fell so close one of the boyssaid: "Say, they must be shooting at _us!_" as though that weresomething unexpected. 

They stepped on the accelerator and the truck shot forward madly and toreinto the town with shells breaking about it. Having escaped thus far theywere ready to take another chance on the short cut to Raulecourt. 

They proceeded without mishaps for some distance. Just outside ofBouconville was a large shell hole in the road and in trying to avoid thisthe wheels of the truck slipped into the ditch, and the driver found hewas stuck. It was impossible to get out under his own power. While workingwith the truck, the Germans began to shell him again. At first the twoboys paid little heed to it, but when more began to come they knew it wastime to leave. They threw themselves into a communicating trench, whichwas really no more than a ditch, and wiggled their way up the bank untilthey were able to drop into the main trenches, where they found safety ina dugout. 

The Germans meantime were shelling the truck furiously, the shellsdropping all around on either side, but not actually hitting it. This wasabout two o'clock in the afternoon. 

[Illustration: "It was just outside of Bouconville that the famousdoughnut truck experience occurred"---and this is the Salvation Army boywho drove it]

[Illustration: Bullionville, promptly dubbed by the American boys"Souptown"]

At Headquarters they were becoming anxious about the non-appearance of thetruck and started out in the touring car to locate it. Commencing atJouey-les-Cotes they went from there to Boucq and Raulecourt, which werethe last places the truck was to visit. Not hearing of it at Raulecourt, the search was continued out to Bouconville, again, by a short road. Montsec was in full view. There were fresh shell holes all along the roadsince the night before. Things began to look serious. 

A short distance ahead was an army truck, and even as they got abreast ofit a shell went over it exploding about twenty-five feet away, and one hitthe side of the road just behind them. It seemed wise to put on all speed. 

But when they reached Bouconville and found that the truck they had passedwas the Salvation Army truck, they were unwilling to leave it to thetender mercies of the enemy as everybody advised. That truck cost fifty-five hundred dollars, and they did not want to lose it. 

As soon as it was dark a detail of soldiers volunteered to go with theSalvation Army officers to attempt to get it out, but the Germans heardthem and started their shelling furiously once more, so that they had toretreat for a time; but later, they returned and worked all night tryingto jack it up and get a foundation that would permit of hauling it out. Every little while all night the Germans shelled them. About half-pastfour in the morning it grew light enough for the enemy to see, and the topwas taken off the truck so that it would not be so good a mark. 

That day they went back to Headquarters and secured permission for anammunition truck to come down and give them a tow, as no driver waspermitted out on that road without a special permit from Headquarters. Thejourney back was filled with perils from gas shells, especially aroundDead Man's Curve, but they escaped unhurt. That night they attached a towline to the front of the truck, started the engine quietly, and waiteduntil the assisting truck came along out of the darkness. They thenattached their line without stopping the other truck and with the aid ofits own power the old doughnut truck was jerked out of the ditch at lastand sent on its way. In spite of the many shells for which it had been atarget it was uninjured save that it needed a new top. The knowledge thatthe truck was stuck in the ditch and was being shelled aroused greatexcitement among all the troops in the Toul Sector and it was thereafteran object of considerable interest. Newspaper correspondents telegraphedreports of it around the world. 

In most of the huts and dugouts Salvation Army workers subsist entirelyupon Army chow. At Bouconville the chow was frequently supplemented byfresh fish. The dugout here was very close to the trenches, less than fiveminutes' walk. Just behind the trenches to the left was a small lake. Whenthere was sufficient artillery fire to mask their attack, soldiers wouldtoss a hand grenade into this lake, thus stunning hundreds of fish whichwould float to the surface, where they were gathered in by the sackful. The Salvation Army dugout was never without its share of the spoils. 

Before the soldiers began to think, as they do now, that being detailed tothe Salvation Army hut was a privilege, an Army officer sent one of hissoldiers, who seemed to be in danger of developing a yellow streak, tosweep the hut and light the fires for the lassies. "You are only fit towash dishes, and hang on to a woman's skirts, " he told the soldier ininforming him that he was detailed. That night the village was bombed. Theboy, who was really frightened, watched the two girls, being too proud torun for shelter while they were so calm. He trembled and shook while theysat quietly listening to the swish of falling bombs and the crash of anti-aircraft guns. In spite of his fright, he was so ashamed of his fears thathe forced himself to stand in the street and watch the progress of theraid. The next day he reported to his Captain that he had vanquished hisyellow streak and wanted a chance to demonstrate what he said. Thedemonstration was ample. The example of these brave lassies had somehowstrengthened his spirit. 

Back of Raulecourt the woods were full of heavy artillery. Raulecourt wasthe first town back of the front lines. The men were relieved every eightdays and passed through here to other places to rest. 

The military authorities sent word to the Salvation Army hut one day thatfifty Frenchmen would be going through from the trenches at five o'clockin the morning who would have had no opportunity to get anything to eat. 

The Salvation Army people went to work and baked up a lot of biscuits anddoughnuts and cakes, and got hot coffee ready. The Red Cross canteen wasbetter situated to serve the men and had more conveniences, so they tookthe things over there, and the Red Cross supplied hot chocolate, and whenthe men came they were well served. This is a sample of the spirit ofcooperation which prevailed. One Sunday night they were just starting theevening service when word came from the military authorities that therewere a hundred men coming through the town who were hungry and ought to befed. They must be out of the town by nine-thirty as they were going overthe top that night. Could the Salvation Army do anything?

The woman officer who was in charge was perplexed. She had nothing cookedready to eat, the fire was out, her detailed helpers all gone, and she wasjust beginning a meeting and hated to disappoint the men already gathered, but she told the messenger that if she might have a couple of soldiers tohelp her she would do what she could. The soldiers were supplied and thefire was started. At ten minutes to nine the meeting was closed and theearnest young preacher went to work making biscuits and chocolate with thehelp of her two soldier boys. By ten o'clock all the men were fed andgone. That is the way the Salvation Army does things. They never say "Ican't. " They always CAN. 

In Raulecourt there were several pro-Germans. The authorities allowed themto stay there to save the town. The Salvation Army people were warned thatthere were spies in the town and that they must on no account give outinformation. Just before the St. Mihiel drive a special warning was given, all civilians were ordered to leave town, and a Military Police knocked atthe door and informed the woman in the hut that she must be careful whatshe said to anybody with the rank of a second lieutenant, as word had goneout there was a spy dressed in the uniform of an American secondlieutenant. 

That night at eleven o'clock the young woman was just about to retire whenthere came a knock at the canteen door. She happened to be alone in thebuilding at the time and when she opened the door and found severalstrange officers standing outside she was a little frightened. Nor did itdispel her fears to have them begin to ask questions:

"Madam, how many troops are in this town? Where are they? Where can we getany billets?"

To all these questions she replied that she could not tell or did not knowand advised them to get in touch with the town Major. The visitors grewimpatient. Then three more men knocked at the door, also in uniform, andbegan to ask questions. When they could get no information one of themexclaimed indignantly:

"Well, I should like to know what kind of a town this is, anyway? I triedto find out something from a Military Police outside and he took me for aSPY! Madam, we are from Field Hospital Number 12, and we want to find aplace to rest. "

Then the frightened young woman became convinced that her visitors werenot spies; all the same, they were not going to leave her any the wiserfor any information she would give. 

Several times men would come to the town and find no place to sleep. Onsuch occasions the Salvation Army hut was turned over to them and theywould sleep on the floor. 

The St. Mihiel drive came on and the hut was turned over to the hospital. The supplies were taken to a dugout and the canteen kept up there. Thenthe military authorities insisted that the girls should leave town, butthe girls refused to go, begging, "Don't drive us away. We know we shallbe needed!" The Staff-Captain came down and took some of the girls away, but left two in the canteen, and others in the hospital. 

It rained for two weeks in Roulecourt. The soldiers slept in little dogtents in the woods. 

The meetings held the boys at the throne of God each night, they were thepower behind the doughnut, and the boys recognized it. 

"One hesitated to ask them if they wanted prayers because we knew theydid, " said one sweet woman back from the front, speaking about the time ofthe St. Mihiel drive. "We couldn't say how many knelt at the altar becausethey all knelt. Some of them would walk five miles to attend a meeting. "

It poured torrents the night of the drive and nearly drowned out thesoldiers in their little tents. 

They came into the hut to shake hands and say goodbye to the girls; toleave their little trinklets and ask for prayers; and they had theirmeeting as always before a drive. 

But this was an even more solemn time than usual, for the boys were goingup to a point where the French had suffered the fearful loss of thirtythousand men trying to hold Mt. Sec for fifteen minutes. They did notexpect to come back. They left sealed packages to be forwarded if they didnot return. 

One boy came to one of the Salvation Army men Officers and said: "Pray forme. I have given my heart to Jesus. "

Another, a Sergeant, who had lived a hard life, came to the Salvation ArmyAdjutant and said: "When I go back, if I ever go, I'm going to serve theLord. "

After the meeting the girls closed the canteen and on the way to theirroom they passed a little sort of shed or barn. The door was standing openand a light streaming out, and there on a little straw pallet lay asoldier boy rolled up in his blanket reading his Testament. The girlsbreathed a prayer for the lad as they passed by and their hearts werelifted up with gladness to think how many of the American boys, fully two-thirds of them, carried their Testaments in the pockets over their hearts;yes, and read them, too, quite openly. 

Two young Captains came one night to say good-bye to the girls beforegoing up the line. The girls told them they would be praying for them andthe elder of the two, a doctor, said how much he appreciated that, andthen told them how he had promised his wife he would read a chapter in hisTestament every day, and how he had never failed to keep his promise sincehe left home. 

Then up spoke the other man:

"Well, I got converted one night on the road. The shells were fallingpretty thick and I thought I would never reach my destination and I justpromised the Lord if He would let me get safely there I would never failto read a chapter, and I never have failed yet!" This young man seemed tothink that--the whole plan of redemption was comprised in reading hisBible, but if he kept his promise the Spirit would guide him. 

On the way back to the hut one morning the girls picked marguerites andforget-me-nots and put them in a vase on the table in the hut, making itlook like a little oasis in a desert, and no doubt, many a soldier lookedlong at those blossoms who never thought he cared about flowers before. 

Within thirty-six hours after the first gun was fired in the St. Mihieldrive seven Salvation Army huts were established on the territory. 

Three days before the drive opened twenty Salvation Army girls reachedRaulecourt, which was a little village half a mile from Montsec. They hadbeen travelling for hours and hours and were very weary. 

The Salvation Army hut had been turned over to the hospital, so they foundanother old building. 

That night there was a gas alarm sounded and everybody came running outwith their gas masks on. The officer who had them in charge was muchworried about his lassies because some of them had a great deal of hair, and he was afraid that the heavy coils at the back of their heads wouldprevent the masks from fitting tightly and let in the deadly gas, but thelassies were level-headed girls, and they came calmly out with their maskson tight and their hair in long braids down their backs, much to therelief of their officer. 

It had been raining for days and the men were wet to the skin, and many ofthem had no way to get dry except to roll up in their blankets and let theheat of their body dry their clothes while they slept. It was a greatcomfort to have the Salvation Army hut where they could go and get warmand dry once in awhile. 

The night of the St. Mihiel drive was the blackest night ever seen. It wasso dark that one could positively see nothing a foot ahead of him. TheSalvation Army lassies stood in the door of the canteen and listened. Allday long the heavy artillery had been going by, and now that night hadcome there was a sound of feet, tramping, tramping, thousands of feet, through the mud and slush as the soldiers went to the front. In groupsthey were singing softly as they went by. The first bunch were singing"Mother Machree. "

 There's a spot in me heart that no colleen may own, There's a depth in me soul never sounded or known; There's a place in me memory, me life, that you fill, No other can take it, no one ever will; Sure, I love the dear silver that shines in your hair, And the brow that's all furrowed and wrinkled with care. I kiss the dear fingers, so toil-worn for me; O, God bless you and keep you! Mother Machree!

The simple pathos of the voices, many of them tramping forward to theirdeath, and thinking of mother, brought the tears to the eyes of the girlswho had been mothers and sisters, as well as they could, to these boysduring the days of their waiting. 

Then the song would die slowly away and another group would come bysinging: "Tell mother I'll be there!" Always the thought of mother. Alittle interval and the jolly swing of "Pack up your troubles in your oldkit bag and smile, smile, smile!" came floating by, and then sweetly, solemnly, through the chill of the darkness, with a thrill in the words, came another group of voices:

 Abide with me; fast falls the eventide, The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide!'

There had been rumors that Montsec was mined and that as soon as a footwas set upon it it would blow up. 

The girls went and lay down on their cots and tried to sleep, praying intheir hearts for the boys who had gone forth to fight. But they could notsleep. It was as though they had all the burden of all the mothers andwives and sisters of those boys upon them, as they lay there, the onlywomen within miles, the only women so close to the lines. 

About half-past one a big naval gun went off. It was as though all thenoises of the earth were let loose about them. They could lie still nolonger. They got up, put on their rain-coats, rubber boots, steel helmets, took their gas masks and went out in the fields where they could see. Soonthe barrage was started. Darkness took on a rosy hue from shells bursting. First a shell fell on Montsec. Then one landed in the ammunition dump justback of it and blew it up, making it look like a huge crater of a volcano. It seemed as if the universe were on fire. The noise was terrific. Thewhole heavens were lit up from end to end. The beauty and the horror of itwere indescribable. 

At five o'clock they went sadly back to the hut. 

The hospital tents had been put up in the dark and now stood ready for thewounded who were expected momentarily. The girls took off their rain-coatsand reported for duty. It was expected there would be many wounded. Theminutes passed and still no wounded arrived. Day broke and only a fewwounded men had been brought in. It was reported that the roads were sobad that the ambulances were slow in getting there. With sad hearts theworkers waited, but the hours passed and still only a straggling fewarrived, and most of those were merely sick from explosives. There werealmost no wounded! Only ninety in all. 

Then at last there came one bearing a message. There _were_ nowounded! The Germans had been taken so by surprise, the victory had beenso complete at that point, that the boys had simply leaped over allbarriers and gone on to pursue the enemy. Quickly packing up seven outfitsa little company of workers started after their divisions on trucks overground that twenty-four hours before had been occupied by the Germans, onroads that were checkered with many shell holes which American road makerswere busily filling up and bridging as they passed. 

One of the Salvation Army truck drivers asked a negro road mender what hethought of his job. He looked up with a pearly smile and a gleam of hiseyes and replied: "Boss, I'se doin' mah best to make de world safe fohDemocrats!"

They had to stop frequently to remove the bodies of dead horses from theway so recently had that place been shelled. They passed through grimskeletons of villages shattered and torn by shell fire; between tangles ofrusty barbed wire that marked the front line trenches. Then on intoterritory that had long been held by the Huns. More than half of thevillages they passed were partially burned by the retreating enemy. Allalong the way the pitiful villagers, free at last, came out to greet themwith shouts of welcome, calling "Bonnes Americaines! Bonnes Americaines!"Some flung their arms about the Salvation Army lassies in their joy. Someof the villagers had not even known that the Americans were in the waruntil they saw them. 

In the village of Nonsard a little way beyond Mt. Sec they found abuilding that twenty-four hours before had been a German canteen. Abovethe entrance was the sign "KAMERAD, tritt' ein. "

The Salvation Army people stepped in and took possession, findingeverything ready for their use. They even found a lard can full of lardand after a chemist had analyzed it to make sure it was not poisoned theyfried doughnuts with it. In one wall was a great shell hole, and thevillage was still under shell fire as they unloaded their truck and got towork. One lassie set the water to heat for hot chocolate, while anotherrequisitioned a soldier to knock the head off a barrel of flour and wassoon up to her elbows mixing the dough for doughnuts. Before the firstdoughnut was out of the hot fat several hundred soldiers were waiting inlong, patient, ever-growing lines for free doughnuts and chocolate. Thesethings were always served free after the men had been over the top. 

The lassies had had no sleep for thirty-six hours, but they never thoughtof stopping until everybody was served. In that one day their three tonsof supplies entirely gave out. 

The Red Cross was there with their rolling kitchen. They had plenty ofbread but nothing to put on it. The Salvation Army had no stove on whichto cook anything, but they had quantities of jam and potted meats. Theyturned over ten cases of jam, some of the cases containing as many as fourhundred small jars, to the Red Cross, who served it on hot biscuits. Someone put up a sign: "THIS JAM FURNISHED BY THE SALVATION ARMY!" and thesoldiers passed the word along the line: "The finest sandwich in theworld, Red Cross and Salvation Army!" The first day two Salvation Armygirls served more than ten thousand soldiers in their canteen. They didnot even stop to eat. The Red Cross brought them over hot chocolate asthey worked. 

Evening brought enemy airplanes, but the lassies did not stop for that andsoon their own aerial forces drove the enemy back. 

That night the girls slept in a dirty German dugout, and they did not dareto clean up the place, or even so much as to move any of the _débris_of papers and old tin and pasteboard cracker boxes, or cans that werestrewn around the place until the engineer experts came to examine things, lest it might be mined and everything be blown up. The girls set up theircots in the clearest place they could find, and went to sleep. One of thewomen, however, who had just arrived, had lost her cot, and being veryweary crawled into a sort of berth dug by the Germans in the wall, wheresome German had slept. She found out from bitter experience what cootiesare like. 

The next morning they were hard at work again as early as seven o'clock. Two long lines of soldiers were already patiently waiting to be served. The girls wondered whether they might not have been there all night. Thiscontinued all day long. 

"We had to keep on a perpetual grin, " said one of the lassies, "so thateach soldier would think he had a smile all his own. We always gaveeverything with a smile. " Yet they were not smiles of coquetry. One hadbut to see the beautiful earnest faces of those girls to know that nothingunholy or selfish entered into their service. It was more like the smilethat an angel might give. 

Here is one of the many popular songs that have been written on thesubject which shows how the soldiers felt:

 SALVATION LASSIE OF MINE. 

 "They say it's in Heaven that all angels dwell, But I've come to learn they're on earth just as well; And how would I know that the like could be so, If I hadn't found one down here below?

 CHORUS. 

 A sweet little Angel that went o'er the sea, With the emblem of God in her hand; A wonderful Angel who brought there to me The sweet of a war-furrowed land. The crown on her head was a ribbon of red, A symbol of all that's divine; Though she called each a brother she's more like a mother, Salvation Lassie of Mine. 

 Perhaps in the future I'll meet her again, In that world where no one knows sorrow or pain; And when that time comes and the last word is said, Then place on my bosom her band of red. "

 _By "Jack" Caddigan and "Chick" Stoy. _

That day a shell fell on the dugout where they had slept the night before, and a little later one dropped next door to the canteen; another tookseven men from the signal corps right in the street near by, and the girlswere ordered out of the village because it was no longer safe for them. 

One of the boys had been up on a pole putting up wires for the signalcorps. These boys often had to work as now under shell fire in daytimebecause it was necessary to have telephone connections complete at once. Ashell struck him as he worked and he fell in front of the canteen. Theyhad just carried him away to the ambulance when his chum and comrade camerunning up. A pool of blood lay on the floor in front of the canteen, andhe stood and gazed with anguish in his face. Suddenly he stooped andpatted the blood tenderly murmuring, "My Buddy! My Buddy!" Then like aflash he was off, up the pole where his comrade had been killed to finishhis work. That is the kind of brave boys these girls were serving. 

IX. 

The Argonne Drive

That night they slept in the woods on litters, and the next day they wenton farther into the woods, twelve kilometres beyond what had been Germanfront. 

Here they found a whole little village of German dugouts in the form oflog cabin bungalows in the woods. It was a beautifully laid out littlevillage, each bungalow complete, with running water and electric lightsand all conveniences. There were a dance hall, a billiard room, andseveral pianos in the woods. There were also fine vegetable gardens andrabbit hutches full of rabbits, for the Germans had been obliged to leavetoo hastily to take anything with them. 

The boys were hungry, some of them half starved for something differentfrom the hard fare they could take with them over the top, and they maderabbit stews and cooked the vegetables and had a fine time. 

The girls up at the front had no time for making doughnuts, so the girlsback of the lines made 8000 doughnuts and sent them up by trucks fordistribution. They also distributed oranges to the soldiers. 

News came to the girls after they had been for a week in Nonsard that theywere to make a long move. 

Back to Verdun they went and stopped just long enough to look at the city. They were much impressed with St. Margaret's school for young ladies, anda wonderful old cathedral standing on the hill with a wall surrounding it. Just the face of the building was left, all the rest shot away, andthrough the concrete walls were holes, with guns bristling from every one. 

[Illustration: The girls who came down to help in the St. Mihiel drive]

[Illustration: Here they found a whole little village of German dugouts]

They did not linger long for duty called them forward on their journey. Atdusk they stopped in a little village, bought some stuff, and asked aFrench woman to cook it for them. They inquired for a place in which towash and were given a bar of soap and directed to the village pump up thestreet. After supper they went on their way to Benoitvaux. Here they founddifficulty in getting quarters, but at last an old French woman agreed tolet them sleep in her kitchen and for a couple of days they were quarteredwith her. The word went forth that there were two American girls there andpeople were most curious to see them. One afternoon two French soldierscame to the kitchen to visit them. It was raining, as usual, and the girlshad stayed in because there was really nothing to call them out. Thesoldiers sat for some time talking. They had heard that America was a wildplace with _beaucoup_ Indians who wore scalps in their belts, andthey wanted to know if the girls were not afraid. It was a bit difficultconversing, but the girls got out their French dictionary and managed toconvey a little idea of the true America to the strangers. At last one ofthe soldiers in quite a matter of fact tone informed one of the girls thathe was pleased with her and loved her very much. This put a hasty close tothe conversation, the lassie informing him with much dignity that men didnot talk in that way to girls they had just met in America and that shedid not like it. Whereupon the girls withdrew to the other end of thekitchen and turned their backs on their callers, busying themselves withsome reading, and the crest-fallen gallants presently left. 

They only had a canteen here one day when they were called to go on toNeuvilly. 

When the offensive was extended to the Argonne the Salvation Army followedalong, keeping in touch with the troops so that they felt that theSalvation Army was ever with them, sharing their hardships and dangers, and always ready to serve them. 

Just before a drive, close to the front, there are always blockades oftrucks going either way. 

The Salvation Army truck filled with the workers on their way to Neuvillyone dark night was caught in such a blockade. They crawled along makingonly about a mile an hour and stopping every few minutes until there was achance to go on again. At last the wait grew longer and longer, the mudgrew deeper, and the truck was having such a hard time that the littlecompany of travellers decided to abandon it to the side of the road tillmorning and get out and walk to Neuvilly. There was a field hospital thereand they felt sure they could be of use; and anyway, it was better thansitting in the truck all night. They were then about eight kilometers fromthe front. So they all got off and walked. But when they reached theplace, found the hospital, and essayed to go in, the mud was so deep thatthey were stuck and unable to move forward. Some soldiers had to rescuethem and carry them to the hospital on litters. 

Their help was accepted gladly, and they went to work at once. There weremany shell-shocked boys coming in who needed soothing and comforting, anda woman's hand so near the front was gratefully appreciated. 

When at last there was a lull in the stream of wounded men the girls wentto find a place to sleep for a little while. It was early morning, and sadsights met their eyes as they hurried down what had once been a pleasantvillage street. Destruction and desolation everywhere. The house that hadbeen selected for a Salvation Army canteen was nearly all gone. One endwas comparatively intact, with the floor still remaining, and this was tobe for the canteen. The rest of the building was a series of shell holessurrounding a cellar from which the floor had been shot away. 

The women reconnoitred and finally decided to unfold their cots and try toget a wink of sleep down in that cellar. It did not take them long to getsettled. The cots were brought down and placed quickly among the fallenrafters, stone and tiling. Part of the walls that were standing leaned inat a perilous slant, threatening to fall at the slightest wind, but thelassies took off their shoes, rolled up in their blankets, and were atonce oblivious to all about them, for they had been travelling all the daybefore and had worked hard all night. 

One hour later, still early in the morning, they were awakened by thearrival of the truck and the thumping of boxes, tables and supplies as theSalvation Army truck drivers unloaded and set up the paraphernalia of thecanteen. The girls opened their eyes and looked about them, and there allaround the building were American soldiers, a head in every shell hole, watching them sleep. There was something thrilling in the silent audiencelooking down with holy eyes--yes, I said holy eyes!--for whatever theAmerican soldier may be in his daily life he had nothing in his eyes butholy reverence for these women of God who were working night and day forhim. There was something touching, too, in their attitude, for perhapseach one was thinking of his mother or sister at home as he looked down onthese weary girls, rolled up in the brown blankets, with their neat littlebrown shoes in couples under their cots, nothing visible above theblankets but their pretty rumpled brown hair. 

The women did not waste much more time in sleeping. They arose at once andgot busy. There were five tables in the canteen above and already fromeach one there stretched a long line of men waiting silently, patientlyfor the time to arrive when there would be something good to eat. Thegirls had no more sleep that day, and there simply was no seclusion to behad anywhere. Everything was shell-riddled. 

When night came on the question of beds arose again. The cellar seemedhardly possible, and the military officers considered the question. 

Across the road from the most ruined end of the canteen building stood anold church. All of its north wall was gone save a supporting column in themiddle, all the north roof gone. There were holes in all the other walls, and all the windows were gone. The floor was covered with _débris_and wreckage. It had been used all day for an evacuation hospital. 

Just over the altar was a wonderful picture of the Christ ascending toheaven. It was still uninjured save for a shot through the heart. 

The military officer stood on the steps of this ruined church, and, looking around in perplexity, remarked:

"Well, I guess this is the wholest place in town. " Then stepping inside heglanced about and pointed:

"And this is the most secluded spot here!"

The seclusion was a pillar! But the girls were glad to get even that forthere was no other place, and they were very weary. So they set up theirlittle cots, and prepared to roll themselves in their blankets for a well-earned rest. 

The boys had built a small bonfire on the stone floor against a piece ofone wall that was still standing, and now they sent a deputation to knowif the girls would bring their guitars over and have a little music. Theboys, of course, had no idea that the girls had not slept for more thantwenty-four hours, and the girls never told them. They never even cast onewistful glance toward their waiting cots, but smilingly assented, and wentand got their instruments. 

[Illustration: The wrecked house in Neuvilly where the lassies went tosleep in the cellar and woke up to find the soldiers watching]

[Illustration: The wrecked church in Neuvilly where the memorable meetingwas held]

Beneath the picture of the Christ, in front of the altar a few men were atwork in an improvised office with four candles burning around them. In therear of the church Lt. -Col. Frederick R. Fitzpatrick of the One Hundredand Tenth Ammunition Train had his office, and there another candle wasburning. Some wounded men lay on stretchers in the shadowed northwestcorner, and around the little fire the five Salvation Army lassies satamong two hundred soldiers. They sang at first the popular songs thateverybody knew: "The Long, Long Trail, " "Keep the Home Fires Burning, ""Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag and Smile! Smile! Smile!" and"Keep Your Head Down, Fritzie Boy!"

By and by some one called for a hymn, and then other hymns followed:"Jesus Lover of My Soul, " "When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder, " and, asalways, the old favorite, "Tell Mother I'll Be There!"

They sang for at least an hour and a half, and then they did not want tostop. Oh, but it was a great sound that rolled through the old brokenwalls of the church and floated out into the night! One of the lassiessaid she would not change crowds with the biggest choir in New York. 

Then they asked the girls to sing and the room was very still as two sweetvoices thrilled out in a tender melody, speaking every word distinctly:

 Beautiful Jesus, Bright Star of earth! Loving and tender from moment of birth, Beautiful Jesus, though lowly Thy lot, Born in a manger, so rude was Thy cot!

 Beautiful Jesus, gentle and mild, Light for the sinner in ways dark and wild, Beautiful Jesus, O save such just now, As at Thy feet they in penitence bow!

 Beautiful Christ! Beautiful Christ! Fairest of thousands and Pearl of great price! Beautiful Christ! Beautiful Christ! Gladly we welcome Thee, Beautiful Christ!

Before they had finished many eyes had turned instinctively toward thepicture in the weirdly flickering light. 

Then the young Captain-lassie asked her sister to read the Ninety-firstPsalm, "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abideunder the shadow of the Almighty, " and she told them that was a promisefor those who trusted in God, and she wished they would think about itwhile they were going to sleep. 

"This evening has made me think so much of home, " she said thoughtfully, drooping her lashes and then raising them with a sweeping glance thatincluded the whole group, while the firelight flickered up and lit herlovely serious face, and touched her hair with lights of gold, "I supposeit has made every one else feel that way, " she went on; "I mean especiallythe evenings at home when the family gathered in the parlor, with one atthe piano and brothers with their horns, and the rest with some kind ofinstrument, and we had a good 'sing;' and afterward father took the Bibleand read the evening chapter, and then we had family prayers and kissedMamma and Papa good night and went to bed. I shouldn't wonder if many ofyou used to have homes like that?"

The lassie raised her eyes again and looked on them. Many of the mennodded. It was beautiful to see the look that came into their faces atthese recollections. 

"And you used to have family prayers, too, didn't you?" she asked eagerly. 

They nodded once more but some of them turned their faces away from thelight quickly and brushed the back of their hands across their eyes. 

"To-night has been a family gathering, " she went on, "We girls are littlesisters to all you big brothers, and we have had a delightful time withjust the family, and the evening chapter has been read, and now I think itwould not be complete if we did not have the family prayers before weseparate and go to sleep. "

Down went the heads in response, with reverent mien, and the place wasvery still while the lassie prayed. Afterward the boys joined their gruffvoices, husky now with emotion, into the universal prayer with which sheclosed: "Our Father which are in heaven----"

They were all sorts and conditions of men gathered around the little firein that old shell-torn church in Neuvilly that night. To quote from aletter written by a military officer, Lt-Col. Frederick R. Fitzpatrick, tohis wife:

 "There was the lad who was willing but not strong enough for field work, who was in the rear with the office; the walking wounded who had stoppedfor something to eat; the big, strong mule skinner who could throw a muledown or lift a case of ammunition, who was rough in appearance and speechand who would deny that the moisture in his eye was anything but theeffects of the cold. There were the men who had been facing death athousand times an hour for the last three days, who had not had a wash ora chance to take off their shoes and had been lying in mud in shell holes--men who looked as though they were chilled through and through; men ontheir way to the front, well knowing all the hardships and dangers whichwere ahead of them, but who were worried only about the delay in thetraffic; doctors who had been working for three days without rest; men offammunition and ration trucks, who had been at the wheel so long that theyhad forgotten whether it was three or four days and nights; wounded ontheir stretchers enjoying a smoke. And as I stepped in the door there werethe feminine voices singing the good old tunes we all know so well, andnot a sound in the church but as an accompaniment the distant booming ofbig guns, the rattle of small arms, the whirl of air craft, the passing ofthe ever-present column of trucks with rations and ammunition going up, and the wounded coming back; the shouted directions of the traffic police, the sound of the ammunition dump just outside the door and the rattle ofthe kitchens which surround the church, and which are working twenty-fourhours a day. 

There was the crowd of men, each uncovered, giving absolute undividedattention to the good, brave girls who were not making a meeting of it; itwas just a meeting which grew--men who in their minds were back withmother and sister. The girls sang the good old songs, and then one of themoffered a short prayer, in which all the men joined in spirit, and as Itip-toed out of the church it seemed to me that the four candles at thealtar did not give all the light that was shown on the picture of Christour Saviour. Every man in the building that night was in the very presenceof God. It was not a religious meeting; it was a meeting full of religion. And it was a picture that will ever stand fresh in my memory and whichwill be an inspiration in time of doubt. There was nothing there but thereal things, absolutely no sham of any kind. Oh, it was wonderful! I hopeyou can get just a little idea of what it was. I wish you would keep thisletter. I want to be able to read it in future years. "

In what remained of another village not far distant from Neuvilly, thelassies had a tent erected. The rain was endless--a driving drizzle whichquickly soaked through everything but the staunchest raincoats in a veryfew moments. The ground was so thickly covered by shell craters that theycould find no clear space wide enough for the tent. It so happened thatalmost in the centre of the tent there was a big shell crater. In this thegirls lighted a fire. All through the night, and through nights to follow, wounded men limping back through the rain and mud to the dressing stationscame in to warm themselves around the fire in the shell hole, and to drinkof the coffee prepared by the girls. As they sat around the blazing wood, the fire cast strange shadows on the bleached brown canvas of the tent. Inspite of their wounds, they were very cheerful, singing as lightly asthough they were safe at home. 

Everybody had worked hard at Neuvilly, but they felt they must get totheir own outfit as soon as possible at the Field Hospital up in Cheppywhere the wounded were coming in droves and the boys were pouring in fromthe front half-starved, having been fighting all night with nothing to eatexcept reserve rations. Some had been longer with only such rations asthey took from their dead comrades. The need was most urgent, but thepuzzle was how to get there. The roads had been shelled and ploughed byexplosives until there was no possible semblance of a way, and there wereno conveyances to be had. The Zone Major had gone back for supplies, telling the girls to get the first conveyance possible going up the road. That was enough for the girls. "We've _got_ to get there" they said, and when they said that one knew they would. They searched diligently andat last found a way. One girl rode on a reel cart, one on a mule team andone went with an old wagon. They went over roads that had to be made aheadof them by the engineers, and late in the night, bruised and sore fromhead to foot, they arrived at their destination. 

The next morning they reported at the hospital for work and the Major incharge said: "I never was so glad to see anybody in my life!"

They went straight to work and served coffee and sandwiches to the poorhalf-starved men. The Red Cross men were there, also, with sandwiches, hotchocolate and candy. 

The wounded men continued to pour in, later to be evacuated to the basehospital; they kept coming and coming, a thousand men where two hundredhad been expected. There was plenty to be done. The girls were put incharge of different wards. They were under shell fire continually, butthey were too busy to think of that as they hurried about ministering tothe brave soldiers, who gave never a groan from their white lips no matterwhat they suffered. 

The girls worked about eighteen hours a day, and slept from about one ortwo at night to five or six in the morning. The hospital was in front ofthe artillery and every shell that went over to Germany passed over theirheads. When they had been there five days under continual shell fire fromthe enemy the General gave orders that they _must_ leave, that it wasno fit place for women so near to the front. 

When the Salvation Army Zone Major brought this order to the girlsrebellion shone in their eyes and they declared they would not leave! Theyknew they were needed there, and there they would stay! The Zone Majorsurveyed them with intense satisfaction. He turned on his heel and wentback to the General:

"General, " he said, with a twinkle, "my girls say they won't go. "

The General's face softened, and the twinkle flashed across to his eyes, with something like a tear behind its fire. Somehow he didn't look like aCommanding Officer who had just been defied. A wonderful light broke overhis face and he said:

"Well, if the Salvation Army wants to stay let them stay!" And so theystayed. 

It was in a German-dug cave that they had their headquarters, cut out ofthe side of a hill and opening into the hospital yard. It was a work ofart, that cave. There was a passage-way a hundred feet long with avenueseach side and places for cots, room enough to accommodate a hundred men. 

The German airplanes came in droves. When the bugle sounded every one mustget under cover. There must be nobody in sight for the Germans were out toget individuals, and even one person was not too insignificant for them towaste their ammunition upon. They had a mistaken idea, perhaps, that thissort of thing destroyed our morale. The tents, of course, were noprotection against shells and bombs, and presently the Boche began toshell the town in good earnest, especially at night. Gas alarms, also, would sound out in the middle of the night and everybody would have torush out and put on their gas masks. They would not last long at a time, of course, but it broke up any rest that might have been had, and it wasonly too evident that the enemy was trying to get the range on thehospital. 

One morning, standing by the window making cocoa for the boys, one of thelassies saw an eight-inch shell land between the hospital tents, ten feetin front of the window, and only five feet from the door of the placewhere the severely wounded were lying. These shells always kill at twohundred feet. All that saved them was that the shell buried itself deep inthe soft earth and was a dud. 

The shells were coming every twenty minutes and there was no time to losefor now the enemy had their range. At once all hands got busy and began toevacuate the wounded men into the Salvation Army cave. The cave wouldaccommodate seventy men, but they managed to get a hundred men inside, most of them on litters. They were all safe and the girls heard thewhistle of the next shell and made haste toward safety themselves. Butsomeone had carelessly dropped a whole outfit of blankets and thingsacross the passageway of the dugout and the first woman to enter fellacross it, shutting out the other two. Before anything could be done thenext shell struck the doorway, partly burying the fallen young woman. Inside the dugout rocks came down on some of the men on litters, andanxious hands extricated the lassie from the _débris_ that had fallenupon her, and lifted her tenderly. She was pretty badly bruised and lamed, besides being wounded on her leg, but the brave young woman would notclaim her wound, nor let it become known to the military authorities lestthey would forbid the girls to stay at the front any longer. So for threeweeks she patiently limped about and worked with the rest, quietly bearingher pain, and would not go to the hospital. One lassie outside was struckon the helmet by a piece of falling rock. If she had not had on her helmetshe would have been killed. 

The shelling continued for six hours. 

The hospital was all the time filled with wounded men and there was plentyto be done twenty-four hours out of every day. The women moved about amongthe men as if they were their own brothers. 

A poor shell-shocked boy lay on his cot talking wildly in delirium, livingover the battle again, charging his men, ordering them to advance. 

"Company H. Advance! See that hill over there? It's full of Germans, but_we've got to take it_!"

Then he turned over and began to sob and cry, "Oh God! Oh God!"

A lassie went to him and soothed him, talking to him gently about home, asking him questions about his mother, until he grew calm and began toanswer her, and rested back quite rationally. The stretcher-bearers cameto take him to another hospital, and he started up, put out his hand andcried: "Oh, nurse! I've got to get back to my men! _I'm the only oneleft_!"

Thus the heart-breaking scenes were multiplied. 

One boy came back to the hospital in the Argonne badly wounded. He calledthe lassie to him one day as she passed through the ward, and motioned herto lean down so he could talk to her. He said he knew he was hard hit andhe wanted to tell her something. 

"I was wounded, lying on the ground over there in No Man's Land, " he wenton. "It was all dark and I was waiting for someone to come along and helpme. I thought it was all up with me and while I was lying there I feltsomething. I can't explain it, but I knew it was there and I saw my motherand I prayed. Then my Buddy came along and I asked him if he could baptizeme. He said he wasn't very good himself but he guessed the heavenly Fatherwould understand. So he stooped down and got some muddy water out of ashell hole close by and put it on my forehead, and prayed; and now I knowit's all right. I wanted you to know. "

Often the boys, just before they went over the top, would come to thesegirls and say:

"We're going up there, now. You pray for us, won't you?"

One day some boys came to the hut when there were not many about and askedthe girls if they might talk with them. These boys were going over the topthat night. 

"We fellows want to ask you something, " they said. "Some of the chaplainshave been telling us that if we go over there and die for liberty thatit'll be all right with us afterward. But we don't believe that dope andwe want to know the truth. Do you mean to tell me that if a man has livedlike the devil he's going to be saved just because he got killed fighting?Why, some of us fellows didn't even go of our own accord. We were drafted. And do you mean to tell me that counts just the same? We want to know thetruth!"

And then the girls had their opportunity to point the way to Jesus andspeak of repentance, salvation from sin, and faith in the Saviour of theworld. 

A lassie was stooping over one young boy lying on a cot, washing his faceand trying to make him more comfortable, and she noticed a hole in hisbreast pocket. Stooping closer she examined it and found it was a piece ofhigh explosive shell that had gone through the cloth of his pocket and wasembedded in his Testament, which he, like many of the boys, always kept inhis breast pocket. 

Another boy lay on a cot biting his lips to bear the agony of pain, andshe asked him what was the matter, was the wound in his leg so bad? Henodded without opening his eyes. She went to ask the doctor if the boycouldn't have some morphine to dull the pain. The Sergeant in charge cameover and looked at him, examined the bandage on the boy's leg and thenexclaimed: "Who bandaged this leg?"

"I did" said the boy weakly, "I did the best I could. "

The poor fellow had bandaged his own leg and then walked to the hospital. The bandage had looked all right and no one had examined it until then, but the Sergeant found that it was so tight that it had stopped thecirculation. He took off the bandage and made him comfortable, and theagony left him. In a little while the Salvation Army lassie passed thatway again and found the boy with a little book open, reading. 

"What is it?" she asked, looking at the book. 

"My Testament, " he answered with a smile. 

"Are you a Christian?"

"Oh, yes, " he said with another smile that meant volumes. 

It grew dark in the tent for they dared not have lights on account of theenemy always watching, but stooping near a little later she could see thathis lips were murmuring in prayer. There was an angelic smile on hiswhite, dead face in the morning when they came to take him away. 

There was a funeral every day in that place. A hundred boys were buriedthat week. Always the girls sang at the graves, and prayed. There would bejust the grave digger, a few people, and some of the boys. Off to one sidethe Germans were buried. When the simple services over our own dead werecomplete one of the girls would say: "Now, friends, let us go and say aprayer beside our enemy's graves. They are some mother's boys, and somewoman is waiting for them to come home!"

And then the prayers would be said once more, and another song sung. 

Those were solemn, sorrowful times, death and destruction on every side. The fighting was everywhere. United States anti-aircraft guns firing atGerman planes; Germans firing at us; air fights in the sky above. 

And in the midst of it all the boys had meetings every night on log pilesout in the open. These meetings would begin with popular songs, but theboys would soon ask for the hymns and the meetings would work themselvesout without any apparent leading up to it. The boys wanted it. They wantedto hear about religious things. They hungered for it. So they were held atthe throne of God each night by the wonderful men and girls who hadlearned to know human hearts, and had attained such skill in leading themto the Christ for whom they lived. 

It was not alone the doughnut that bound the hearts of the boys to theSalvation Army in France, it was what was behind the doughnut; and here, in these wonderful God-led meetings they found the secret of it all. Manyof them came and told the girls they did not believe in the so-called"trench religion" and wanted to know the truth from them. And those girlstold them the way of eternal life in a simple, beautiful way, not mincingmatters, nor ignoring their sins and unworthiness, but pointing the way tothe Christ who died to save them from sin, and who even now was waiting insilent Presence to offer them Himself. Great numbers of the men acceptedChrist, and pledged themselves to live or die for Him whatever came tothem. 

How close the Salvation Army people had grown to the hearts and lives ofthe men was shown by the fact that when they came back from the fight theywould always come to them as if they had come to report at home:

"We've escaped!" they would say. "We don't know how it is, but we thinkit's because you girls were praying for us, and the folks at home werepraying, too!"

There were three cardinal principles which were deemed necessary tosuccess in this work. The first and most important depended upon winningthe confidence of the boys. This was a prime requisite in any work withthe boys, especially by a religious organization. 

_The first quality_ looked for in a person professing religion isalways consistency. It was felt that if the boys saw that the SalvationArmy was consistent, that it stood only for those things in France whichit was known to stand for in the United States, that the first step wouldbe established in winning the confidence of the boy. It was thereforedetermined that the Salvation Army would not, under any circumstances, compromise, and that it should stand out in its religious work and adhereto its teachings as firmly and as vigorously as it was known to do athome. 

A stand upon the tobacco question was, therefore, highly important. Otherorganizations were encouraging the use of tobacco but those who had comein contact with the Salvation Army at home knew that it had alwaysdiscouraged its use, and although the officers had to go against thejudgment of many high military authorities who thought they should handleit, they decided that the Salvation Army would not handle tobacco and thatno one wearing its uniform should use it. The consistency of the SalvationArmy and the careful conduct of its workers won the esteem of the boys. 

_The second requisite_ was that the Salvation Army should be willingto share their hardships. To accomplish this, it was made a rule thatSalvation Army workers should not mess with the officers but should drawtheir rations at the soldiers' mess, also that they should not associatewith the officers more than was absolutely necessary and that in the huts. It was neither possible nor desirable that officers should be kept out ofthe huts, but as far as possible soldiers were made to feel that theSalvation Army was in France to serve them and not for its own pleasure orconvenience. 

_The third requisite_ was that the Salvation Army should be willingto share their dangers and this was proved to them when they went to thetrenches--the Salvation Army moved to the trenches with them andestablished huts and outposts as close to the front line as was permitted. 

X. 

The Armistice

After the Armistice was signed, on November 11th, it was a great questionwhat disposition would be made of the troops. It was concluded that theywould be sent home as rapidly as possible and that the three ports--Brest, St. Nazaire and Bordeaux--would be used for that purpose. Immediatelyarrangements were made for the opening of Salvation Army work at the baseports with a view to letting the boys have a last sight of the SalvationArmy as they left the shores of France. The Salvation Army had served themin the training area and at the front and were still serving them as theyleft the shores of the old world and it would meet them again when theyarrived on the shores of the home-land. In this way the contact of theSalvation Army would be continuous, so that when they returned, it wouldbe able to reach their hearts and affect their lives with the Gospel ofChrist. 

The problem of buildings was, of course, the first one and a verydifficult one. To secure buildings of adequate size, which could beconstructed in a short space of time, was almost out of the question, butit occurred to the officers that the aviation section would bedemobilizing and that they had brought over portable steel buildings, foruse as hangars. The matter was taken up at once with the militaryauthorities and twenty of these steel buildings were secured--each of themsixty-six feet wide by one hundred feet long. It was planned to placeeight of them at Bordeaux, six at St. Nazaire and six at Brest. By placingtwo of them end to end it was possible to secure one auditorium sixty-sixfeet wide by two hundred feet long--capable of seating three thousand men. Adjoining that could be another building sixty-six feet by one hundredfeet, to be used for canteen and rest room. 

It was planned to proceed with a religious campaign at these Base Ports, holding Salvation meetings in these extensive departments. 

When the Army of Occupation was started for Germany, two Salvation Armytrucks were assigned to go along with the Army. Whenever the Army ofOccupation stopped for a space of two or three days, places were securedwhere doughnuts could be fried, pies made, and at all times hot coffee andchocolate were available for the men. 

When the American soldiers marched through the villages of Alsace-Lorrainethe Salvationists marched with them. At Esch and Luxemburg they were inall the rejoicing and triumph of the parade, bringing succor and comfortwherever they could find an opportunity. 

When the men arrived at Coblenz the Salvation Army was there before them, and on their crossing the Rhine, arrangements had been made for thelocation of the Salvation Army work at the principal points in the Rhine-head. They are now conducting Salvation Army operations with the Army ofOccupation. 

One of the occasions when President Wilson clapped for the Salvation Armywas at the inauguration of the Soldiers' Association in Paris. The Y hadinvited all the other organizations to be present. The meeting was held inthe Palais de Glace, which seats about ten thousand people. 

President and Mrs. Wilson were present, accompanied by many prominentAmerican officials. Representatives of the various War Work Organizationsspoke. 

The Salvationist who had been selected to represent the Army at thismeeting had been in the United States Navy for twelve years and was achaplain. 

When he was called upon to speak the boys with one accord as if bypreconcerted action arose to their feet and gave him an ovation. Ofcourse, it was not given to the man but to the uniform. 

A soldier of the Rainbow Division sitting next to one of the SalvationArmy workers over there, kept telling him what the boys thought of theSalvation Army, and when the cheering began he poked the Salvationist inthe ribs and whispered joyously:

"I told you! I told you! We've just been waiting for eight months to pullthis off! Now, you see!"

The speaker when given opportunity did not attempt to make a great speech. He told in simple, vivid sentences of the services of the Salvation Armyjust back of the trenches under fire; and President Wilson sat listeningand applauding with the rest. 

The chaplain paid a tribute to President Wilson, finishing with thesewords:

"President Wilson was not man-elected, but God-selected!"

CHAPLAINS. 

 For some little time after the War started it was a question as towhether the Salvation Army was entitled to any representation in the realmof Chaplaincies of the United States forces. During the progress of theconsideration Adjutant Harry Kline secured an appointment with theNebraska National Guard, and his regiment being made a part of theNational Army, he was received as an officer of the same and thus becameour first Army Chaplain. 

The War Office decided favorably with regard to the question of ourgeneral representation, and shortly thereafter Adjutant John Allan, ofBowery fame, was given a first lieutenancy and then followed, in the ordergiven, Captain Ernest Holz, Adjutant Ryan and Captain Norman Marshall. 

The exceptional service that these men have rendered is of sufficientimportance to have a much wider notice than where only the barest ofreference is possible. Shortly after arrival in France Chaplain Allan wasbeing very favorably noticed because of the character of the work which hewas doing, and it was gratifying to learn that this confidence wasreflected in his appointment as Senior Chaplain of his regiment and hisassignment to special service where probity and wisdom were essential. Shortly thereafter he was taken to the Army Headquarters, where up to thepresent time he is most highly esteemed as a co-laborer with Bishop Brent, the Chaplain-General of the overseas forces. 

Typical of the enthusiasm of each of the five men appointed as Chaplains, the following story is told of First Lieutenant Ernest Holz, who wasinducted into his office as Senior Chaplain of his regiment right at thecommencement of his career. 

At the beginning of the year, when Chaplain Holz knew his Salvation Armycomrades would, as usual, be engaged in special revival work, he thoughtit would be a worthy thing to time a similar effort among the men of hisregiment. Approaching the Colonel, he found him in hearty agreementconcerning the effort, and so securing the assistance of his fellowchaplains they arranged for a series of meetings nightly for one week, with the result that two hundred of the men of the regiment confessedChrist and practically all of them were deeply interested. 

The effort was wholly directed to the uplift of the men and God commandedHis blessing in a most gratifying manner. 

XI. 

Homecoming

The boat docked that morning, and one soldier at least, as he stood on thedeck and watched the shores of his native land draw nearer, felt minglingwith the thrill of joy at his return a vague uneasiness. He was comingback, it is true, but it had been a long time and a lot of things hadhappened. For one thing he had lost his foot. That in itself was a prettystiff proposition. For another thing he was not wearing any decorationssave the wound stripes on his sleeve. Those would have been enough, andmore than enough, for his mother if she were alive, but she had gone awayfrom earth during his absence, and the girl he had kissed good-bye andpromised great things was peculiar. The question was, would she stand forthat amputated foot? He didn't like to think it of her, but he found hewasn't sure. Perhaps, if there had been a croix de guerre! He had promisedher to win that and no end of other honors, when he went away so buoyantand hopeful; but almost on his first day of real battle he had been hurtand tossed aside like a derelict, to languish in a hospital, with no morehope of winning anything. And now he had come home with one foot gone, andno distinction!

He hadn't told the girl yet about the foot. He didn't know as he should. He felt lonely and desolate in spite of his joy at getting back to "God'sCountry. " He frowned at the hazy outline of the great city from which tallbuildings were beginning to differentiate themselves as they drew nearer. There was New York. He meant to see New York, of course. He was aWesterner and had never had an opportunity to go about the metropolis ofhis own country. Of course, he would see it all. Perhaps, after he wasdemobilized he would stay there. Maybe he wouldn't send word he had comeback. Let them think he was killed or taken prisoner, or missing, oranything they liked. There were things to do in New York. There wereplaces where he would be welcome even with one foot gone and no cross ofwar. Thus he mused as the boat drew nearer the shore and the great cityloomed close at hand. Then, suddenly, just as the boat was touching thepier and a long murmur of joy went up from the wanderers on board, hiseyes dropped idly to the dock and there in her trim little overseasuniform, with the sunlight glancing from the silver letters on the scarletshield of her trench cap and the smile radiating from her sweet face, stood the very same Salvation Army lassie who had bent over him as he layon the ground just back of the trenches waiting to be put in the ambulanceand taken to the hospital after he had been wounded. He could feel againthe throbbing pain in his leg, the sickening pain of his head as he lay inthe hot sun, with the flies swarming everywhere, the horrible din ofbattle all about, and his tongue parched and swollen with fever from lyingall night in pain on the wet ground of No Man's Land. She had laid a softlittle hand on his hot forehead, bathed his face, and brought him a colddrink of lemonade. If he lived to be a hundred years old he would nevertaste anything so good as that lemonade had been. Afterward the doctorsaid it was the good cold drink that day that saved the lives of thosefever patients who had lain so long without attention. Oh, he would neverforget the Salvation lassie! And there she was alive and at home! Shehadn't been killed as the fellows had been afraid she would. She had comethrough it all and here she was always ahead and waiting to welcome afellow home. It brought the tears smarting to his eyes to think about it, and he leaned over the rail of the ship and yelled himself hoarse with therest over her, forgetting all about his lost foot. It was hours beforethey were off the ship. All the red tape necessary for the movement ofsuch a company of men had to be unwound and wound up again smoothly, andthe time stretched out interminably; but somehow it did not seem so hardto wait now, for there was someone down there on the dock that he couldspeak to, and perhaps--just perhaps--he would tell her of his dilemmaabout his girl. Somehow he felt that she would understand. 

He watched eagerly when he was finally lined up on the wharf waiting forroll-call, for he was sure she would come; and she did, swinging down theline with her arms full of chocolate, handing out telegraph blanks andpostal cards, real postal cards with a stamp on them that could be mailedanywhere. He gripped one in his big, rough hand as if it were a lifepreserver. A real, honest-to-goodness postal card! My it was good to seethe old red and white stamp again! And he spoke impulsively:

"You're the girl that saved my life out there in the field, don't youremember? With the lemonade!" Her face lit up. She had recognized him andsomehow cleared one hand of chocolate and telegrams to grasp his with ahearty welcome: "I'm so glad you came through all right!" her cheery voicesaid. 

All right! _All right!_ Did she call it all right? He looked down athis one foot with a dubious frown. She was quick to see. She understood. 

"Oh, but that's nothing!" she said, and somehow her voice put new heartinto him. "Your folks will be so glad to have you home you'll forget allabout it. Come, aren't you going to send them a telegram?" And she heldout the yellow blank. 

But still he hesitated. 

"I don't know, " he said, looking down at his foot again. "Mother's gone, and------"

Instantly her quick sympathy enveloped his sore soul, and he felt thatjust the inflection of her voice was like balm when she said: "I'm sosorry!" Then she added:

"But isn't there somebody else? I'm sure there was. I'm sure you told meabout a girl I was to write to if you didn't come through. Aren't yougoing to let her know? Of course you are. "

"I don't know, " said the boy. "I don't think I am. Maybe I'll never goback now. You see, I'm not what I was when I went away. "

"Nonsense!" said the lassie with that cheerful assurance that had carriedher through shell fire and made her merit the pet name of "Sunshine" thatthe boys had given her in the trenches. "Why, that wouldn't be fair toher. Of course, you're going to let her know right away. Leave it to me. Here, give me her address!"

Quick as a flash she had the address and was off to a telephone booth. This was no message that could wait to go back to headquarters. It must goat once. 

He saw her again before he left the wharf. She gave him a card with twoaddresses written on it:

"This first is where you can drop in and rest when you are tired, " sheexplained. "It's just one of our huts; the other is where you can find agood bed when you are in the city. "

Then she was off with a smile down the line, giving out more telegraphblanks and scattering sunshine wherever she went. He glanced back as heleft the pier and saw her still floating eagerly here and there like alittle sister looking after more real brothers. 

The next day, when he was free and on a few days leave from camp, hestarted out with his crutch to see the city, but the thought of her kepthim from some of the places where his feet might have strayed. Yet she hadnot said a word of warning. Her smile and the look in her eyes had placedperfect confidence in him, and he could remember the prayer she haduttered in a low tone back there at the dressing station behind thetrenches in the ear of a companion who was not going to live to get to theBase Hospital, and who had begged her to pray with him before he went. Somehow it lingered with him all day and changed his ideas of what hewanted to see in New York. 

But it was a long hard tramp he had set for himself to see the town withthat one foot. He hadn't much money for cars, even if he had known whichcars to take, so he hobbled along and saw what he could. He was all alone, for the fellows he started with went so fast and wanted to do so manythings that he could not do, that he had made an excuse to shake them off. They were kind. They would not have left him if they had known; but hewasn't going to begin his new life having everybody put out on hisaccount, so he was alone. And it was toward evening. He was very tired. Itseemed to him that he couldn't go another block. If only there were aplace somewhere where he could sit down a little while and rest; even adoorstep would do if there were only one near at hand. Of course, therewere saloons, and there would always be soldiers in them. He would likelybe treated, and there would be good cheer, and a chance to forget for alittle while; but somehow the thought of that Salvation lassie and thecheery way she had made him send that telegram kept him back. When a girlwith painted cheeks stopped and smiled in his face he passed her by, andhalf wondered why he did it. He must go somewhere presently and get a biteto eat, but it couldn't be much for he wanted to save money enough andhunt up that lodging house where there were nice beds. How much he wantedthat bed!

[Illustration: Right in the midst of the busy hurrying throng of UnionSquare]

[Illustration: "Smiling Billy" "One Game Little Guy"]

It was quite dark now. The lights were lit everywhere. He was coming to agreat thoroughfare. He judged by his slight knowledge of the city that itmight be Broadway. There would likely be a restaurant somewhere near. Hehurried on and turned into the crowded street. How cold it was! The windcut him like a knife. He had been a fool to come off alone like this! Justout of the hospital, too. Perhaps he would get sick and have to go toanother hospital. He shivered and stopped to pull his collar up closeraround his neck. Then suddenly he stood still and stared with a dazed, bewildered expression, straight ahead of him. Was he getting a bit leary?He passed his hand over his eyes and looked again. Yes, there it was!Right in the midst of the busy, hurrying throng of Union Square! He madesure it was Union Square, for he looked up at the street sign to becertain it wasn't Willow Vale--or Heaven--right there where streets metand crossed, and cars and trolleys and trucks whirled, and people passedin throngs all day, just across the narrow road, stood the loveliest, mostperfect little white clapboard cottage that ever was built on this earth, with porches all around and a big tree growing up through the roof of oneporch. It stood out against the night like a wonderful mirage, like aheavenly dove descended into the turmoil of the pit, like home and motherin the midst of a rushing pitiless world. He could have cried real tearsof wonder and joy as he stood there, gazing. He felt as though he were oneof those motion pictures in which a lone Klondiker sits by his campfirecooking a can of salmon or baked beans, and up above him on the screen inone corner appears the Christmas tree where his wife and baby at home arecelebrating and missing him. It seemed just as unreal as that to see thatlittle beautiful home cottage set down in the midst of the city. 

The windows were all lit up with a warm, rosy light and there werecurtains at the windows, rosy pink curtains like the ones they used tohave at the house where his girl lived, long ago before the War spoiledhim. He stood and continued to gaze until a lot of cash-boys, let loosefrom the toil of the day, rushed by and almost knocked his crutch fromunder him. Then he determined to get nearer this wonder. Carefullywatching his opportunity he hobbled across the street and went slowlyaround the building. Yes, it was real. Some public building, of course, but how wonderful to have it look so like a home! Why had they done it?

Then he came around toward the side, and there in plain letters was asign: "SOLDIERS AND SAILORS IN UNIFORM WELCOME. " What? Was it possible?Then he might go in? What kind of a place could it be?

He raised his eyes a little and there, slung out above the neatly shingledporch, like any sign, swung an immense fat brown doughnut a foot and ahalf in diameter, with the sugar apparently still sticking to it, andinside the rough hole sat a big white coffee cup. His heart leaped up andsomething suddenly gave him an idea. He fumbled in his pocket, brought outa card, saw that this was the Salvation Army hut, and almost shouted withjoy. He lost no time in hurrying around to the door and stepping inside. 

There revealed before him was a great cozy room, with many easy-chairs andtables, a piano at which a young soldier sat playing ragtime, and at thefarther end a long white counter on which shone two bright steaming urnsthat sent forth a delicious odor of coffee. Through an open door behindthe counter he caught a glimpse of two Salvation Army lassies busy withsome cups and plates, and a third enveloped in a white apron was up to herelbows in flour, mixing something in a yellow bowl. By one of the littletables two soldier boys were eating doughnuts and coffee, and at anothertable a sailor sat writing a letter. It was all so cozy and homelike thatit took his breath away and he stood there blinking at the lights thatflooded the rooms from graceful white bowl-like globes that hung suspendedfrom the ceiling by brass chains. He saw that the rosy light outside hadcome from soft pink silk sash curtains that covered the lower part of thewindows, and there were inner draperies of some heavier flowered materialthat made the whole thing look real and substantial. The willow chairs hadcushions of the same flowered stuff. The walls were a soft pearly graybelow and creamy white above, set off by bands of dark wood, and a darkfloor with rush mats strewn about. He looked around slowly, taking inevery detail almost painfully. It was such a contrast to the noisy, rushing street, a contrast to the hospital, and the trenches and all thelife with which he had been familiar during the past few dreadful months. It made him think of home and mother. He began to be afraid he was goingto cry like a great big baby, and he looked around nervously for a placeto get out of sight. He saw a fellow going upstairs and at a distance hefollowed him. Up there was another bright, quiet room, curtained andcushioned like the other, with more easy willow chairs, round willowtables, and desks over by the wall where one might write. The soldier whohad come up ahead of him was already settled writing now at a desk in thefar corner. There were bookcases between the windows with new beautifullybound books in them, and there were magazines scattered around, and norules that one must not spit on the floor, or put their feet in thechairs, or anything of the sort. Only, of course, no one would ever dreamof doing anything like that in such a place. How beautiful it was, and howquiet and peaceful! He sank into a chair and looked about him. What rest!

And now there were real tears in his eyes which he hastened to brushroughly away, for someone was coming toward him and a hand was on hisshoulder. A man's voice, kindly, pleasant, brotherly, spoke:

"All in, are you, my boy? Well, you just sit and rest yourself awhile. What do you think of our hut? Good place to rest? Well, that's what wewant it to be to you, Home. Just drop in here whenever you're in town andwant a place to rest or write, or a bite of something homelike to eat. "

He looked up to the broad shoulders in their well-fitting dark blueuniform, and into the kindly face of the gray-haired Colonel of theSalvation Army who happened to step in for a minute on business and hadread the look on the lonesome boy's face just in time to give a word ofcheer. He could have thrown his arms around the man's neck and kissed himif he only hadn't been too shy. But in spite of the shyness he foundhimself talking with this fine strong man and telling him some of hisdisappointments and perplexities, and when the older man left him he wasstrengthened in spirit from the brief conversation. Somehow it didn't lookquite so black a prospect to have but one foot. 

He read a magazine for a little while and then, drawn by the deliciousodors, he went downstairs and had some coffee and doughnuts. He saw whilehe was eating that the front porch opened out of the big lower room andwas all enclosed in glass and heated with radiators. A lot of fellows weresitting around there in easy-chairs, smoking, talking, one or two sleepingin their chairs or reading papers. It had a dim, quiet light, a good placeto rest and think. He was more and more filled with wonder. Why did theydo it? Not for money, for they charged hardly enough to pay for thematerials in the food they sold, and he knew by experience that when onehad no money one could buy of them just the same if one were in need. 

Later in the evening he took out the little card again and looked up theother address. He wanted one of those clean, sweet beds that he had beenhearing about, that one could get for only a quarter a night, with all theshower-bath you wanted thrown in. So he went out again and found his waydown to Forty-first Street. 

There was something homelike about the very atmosphere as he entered thelittle office room and looked about him. Beyond, through an open door hecould see a great red brick fireplace with a fire blazing cheerfully and afew fellows sitting about reading and playing checkers. Everybody lookedas if they felt at home. 

When he signed his name in the big register book the young woman behindthe desk who wore an overseas uniform glanced at his signature and thenlooked up as if she were welcoming an old friend:

"There's a telegram here for you, " she said pleasantly. "It came lastnight and we tried to locate you at the camp but did not succeed. One ofour girls went over to camp this afternoon, but they said you were gone ona furlough, so we hoped you would turn up. "

She handed over the telegram and he took it in wonder. Who would send hima telegram? And here of all places! Why, how would anybody know he wouldbe here? He was so excited his crutch trembled under his arm as he toreopen the envelope and read:

 "Dear Billy (It was a regular letter!):

"I am leaving to-night for New York. Will meet you at Salvation Hostel dayafter to-morrow morning. What is a foot more or less? Can't I be hands andfeet for you the rest of your life? I'm proud, proud, proud of you!

 Signed "Jean"

 He found great tears coming into his eyes and his throat was full ofthem, too. It didn't matter if that Salvation Army lassie behind thecounter did see them roll down his cheeks. He didn't care. She wouldunderstand anyway, and he laughed out loud in his joy and relief, thefirst joy, the first relief since he was hurt!

Some one else was coming in the door, another fellow maybe, but the lassieopened a door in the desk and drew him behind the counter in a shadedcorner where no one would notice and brought him a cup of tea, which shesaid was all they had around to eat just then. She didn't pay anyattention to him till he got his equilibrium again. 

She was the kind of woman one feels is a natural-born mother. In fact, thefellows were always asking her wistfully: "May we call you Mother?" Youngenough to understand and enter into their joys and sorrows, yet old enoughto be wise and sweet and true. She mothered every boy that came. 

A sailor boy once asked if he might bring his girl to see her. He said hewanted her to see her so she could tell his mother about her. 

"But can't you tell her about your girl?" she asked. 

"Oh, yes, but I want you to tell her. " he said. "You see, whatever you saymother'll know is true. "

So presently she turned to this lonely boy and took him upstairs throughthe pleasant upper room with its piano and games, its sun parlor over thestreet, lined with trailing ferns, with cheery canaries in swingingtasseled cages, who looked fully as happy and at home as did the soldierboys who were sitting about comfortably reading. She found him a room withonly one other bunk in it. Nice white beds with springs like air andmattresses like down. She showed him where the shower-baths were, and witha kindly good-night left him. He almost wanted to ask her to kiss himgood-night, so much like his own mother she seemed. 

Before he got into that white bed he knelt beside it, all clean andcomfortable and happy like a little child that had wandered a long wayfrom home and got back again, and he told God he was sorry and ashamed forall the way he had doubted, and sinned, and he wanted to live a new lifeand be good. Then he lay down to sleep. To-morrow morning Jean would bethere. And she didn't mind about the foot! She didn't mind! How wonderful!

And then he had a belated memory of the little Salvation Army lassie onthe wharf who had brought all this about, and he closed his eyes andmurmured out loud to the clean, white walls: "God bless her! Oh, God blessher!"

This is only one of the many stories that might be told about the boys whohave been helped by the various activities of the Salvation Army, both athome and abroad. 

It would be well worth one's while to visit their Brooklyn Hospital andtheir New York Hospital and all their other wonderful institutions. Inseveral of them are many little children, some mere infants, belonging tosoldiers and sailors away in the war. In some instances the mother isdead, or has to work. If she so desires she is given work in theinstitution, which is like a real home, and allowed to be with her childand care for it. Where both mother and father are dead the child remainsfor six years or until a home elsewhere is provided for it. Here thelittle ones are well cared for, not in the ordinary sense of aninstitution, but as a child would be cared for in a home, with beauty andlove, and pleasure mingling with the food and shelter and raiment that isusually supplied in an institution. These children are prettily, thoughsimply, dressed and not in uniform; with dainty bits of color in hairribbon, collar, necktie or frock; the babies have wee pink and blue woolcaps and sacks like any beloved little mites, they ride around on KiddieCars, play with doll houses and have a fine Kindergarten teacher to guidetheir young minds, and the best of hospital service when they are ailing. But that is another story, and there are yet many of them. If everybodycould see the beautiful life-size painting of Christ blessing the littlechildren which is painted right on the very wall and blended into thetinting, they could better comprehend the spirit which pervades thislovely home. 

The New York Hospital, which has just been rebuilt and refurnished withall the latest appliances, is in charge of a devoted woman physician, whohas given her life to healing, and has at the head of its Board one of themost noted surgeons in the city, who gives his services free, and boaststhat he enjoys it best of all his work. Here those of small means or of nomeans at all, especially those belonging to soldiers and sailors, may findhealing of the wisest and most expert kind, in cheery, airy, sanitary andbeautiful rooms. But here, too, to understand, one must see. Just a peepinto one of those dainty white rooms would rest a poor sick soul; just aglance at the room full of tiny white basket cribs with dainty blue satin-bound blankets--real wool blankets--and white spreads, would convinceone. 

And what one sees in New York in the line of such activities is duplicatedin most of the other large cities of the United States. 

Not the least of the Salvation Army service for the returning soldiers isthe work that is done on the docks by the lassies meeting returning troopships. They send telegrams free, not C. O. D. , for them, give the menstamped postal cards, hunt up relatives, answer questions, and give themchocolate while they wait for the inevitable roll call before they canentrain. Often these girls will sit up half the night after having metboats nearly all day, to get the telegrams all off that night. It isinteresting to note that on one single day, April 20th, 1919, theSalvation Army Headquarters in New York sent 2900 such free telegrams forreturning soldiers. 

The other day the father of a soldier came to Headquarters with an anxiousface, after a certain unit from overseas had returned. It was the unit inwhich his boy had gone to France, but he had written saying he was in thehospital without stating what was the matter or how serious his wound. Nofurther word had been received and the father and mother were frenziedwith grief. They had tried in every way to get information but could findout nothing. The Salvation Army went to work on the telephone and in ashort time were able to locate the missing boy in a Casual Company soon toreturn, and to report to his anxious father that he was recoveringrapidly. 

Another soldier arrived in New York and sent a Salvation Army telegram tohis father and mother in California who had previously receivednotification that he was dead. A telegram came back to the Salvation Armyalmost at once from the West stating this fact and begging some one to goto the camp where the boy's Casual Company was located and find out if hewere really living. One of the girls from the office went over to theDebarkation Hospital immediately and saw the boy, and was able totelegraph to his parents that he was perfectly recovered and only awaitingtransportation to California. He was overjoyed to see someone who hadheard from his parents. 

A portion of one troop ship had been reserved for soldiers havinginfluenza. These men were kept on board long after all the others had leftthe ship. A Salvation Army worker seeing them with the white masks overtheir faces went on board and served them with chocolate, distributingpost cards and telegraph blanks. When she was leaving the ship a Captainsaid to her rather brusquely: "Don't you realize that you have done afoolish thing? Those men have influenza and your serving them might meanyour death!"

Looking up into the man's eyes the Salvationist said: "I am ready to dieif God sees fit to call me. "

The officer laughed and told her that was the first time in his life hehad known anyone to say they were ready to die and would willingly exposethemselves to such a contagious disease. 

"Aren't you ready to die?" asked the girl. "Certainly not, " replied theCaptain. "Sometimes I think I am hardly fit to live, much less die. "

"Don't you realize that there is a Power which can enable you to live insuch a way as to make you ready to die?"

"Oh, well, I don't bother about going to church, in fact, I don't botherabout religion at all, although I must say once or twice when I was up theline over there I wished I did know something about religion, that is, thekind that makes a fellow feel good about dying; but I don't want to go tochurch and go through all that business. "

"It is possible to accept Christ here and now on this very spot--on thisship--if you'll only believe, " said the girl wistfully. 

The Captain could not help being interested and thoughtful. When she left, after a little more talk he put out his hand and said:

"Thank you. You've done me more good than any sermon could have done me, and believe me, I am going to pray and trust God to help me live adifferent life. "

Sad things are seen on the docks at times when the ships come into port, and the boys are coming home. 

A soldier in a basket, with both arms and both legs gone and only one eye, was being carried tenderly along. 

"Why do you let him live?" asked one pityingly of the Commanding Officer. 

The gruff, kindly voice replied:

"You don't know what life is. We don't live through our arms and legs. Welive through our hearts. "

Some of our boys have learned out there amid shell fire to live throughtheir hearts. 

One of these lying on a litter greeted the lassie from Indiana, just comeback to New York from France to meet the boys when they landed:

"Hello, Sister! _You here?_"

Her eyes filled with tears as she recognized one of her old friends of thetrenches, and noticed how helpless he was now, he who had been thestrongest of the strong. She murmured sympathetically some words ofattempted cheer:

"Oh, that's all right, Sister, " he said, "I know they got me pretty hard, but I don't mind that. I'm not going to feel bad about it. I got somethingbetter than arms and legs over in one of your little huts in France. Ifound Jesus, and I'm going to live for Him. I wanted you to know. "

A few days later she was talking with another boy just landed. She askedhim how it seemed to be home again, and to her surprise he turned asorrowful face to her:

"It's the greatest disappointment of my life, " he said sadly, "the folkshere don't understand. They all want to make me forget, and I don't wantto forget what I learned out there. I saw life in a different way and Iknew I had wasted all the years. I want to live differently now, andmother and her friends are just getting up dances and theatre parties forme to help me to forget. They don't understand. "

Forty miles west of Chicago is Camp Grant and there the Salvation Army hasput up a hut just outside of the camp. 

During the days when the boys were being sent to France, and were underquarantine, unable to go out, no one was allowed to come in and there wasgreat distress. Mothers and sisters and friends could get no opportunityto see them for farewells. 

The Salvation officer in charge suggested to the military authorities thatthe Salvation Army hut be the clearing place for relatives, and that hewould come in his machine and bring the boys to the hut, taking them backagain afterwards, that they might have a few hours with their friendsbefore leaving for France. 

This offer was readily accepted by the authorities, and so it was madepossible for hundreds and hundreds of mothers to get a last talk withtheir boys before they left, some of them forever. 

One day a young man came to the Salvation Army officer and told him thathis regiment was to depart that night and that he was in great distressabout his wife who on her way to see him had been caught in a railroadwreck, and later taken on her way by a rescue train. "I think she is inRockford somewhere, " he said anxiously, "but I don't know where, and Ihave to leave in three hours!"

The Ensign was ready with his help at once. He took the young soldier inhis car to Rockford, seven miles away, and they went from hotel to hotelseeking in vain for any trace of the wife. Then suddenly as they weredriving along the street wondering what to try next the young soldierexclaimed: "There she is!" And there she was, walking along the street!

The two had a blessed two hours together before the soldier had to leave. But it was all in the day's work for the Salvation Army man, for his mainobject in life is to help someone, and he never minds how much he putshimself out. It is always reward enough for him to have succeeded inbringing comfort to another. 

One of the Salvation Army Ensigns who was assigned to work at Camp Granthut had been an all-round athlete before he joined the Salvation Army, aboxer and wrestler of no mean order. 

The fame of the Ensign went abroad and the doctor at the Base Hospitalasked him to take charge of athletics in the hospital. He was alsoappointed regularly as chaplain in the hospital. Every day he drilled thefive hundred women nurses in gymnastics, and put the men attendants and asmany of the patients as were able through a set of exercises. Thusmingling his religion with his athletics he became a great power among themen in the hospital. 

The Salvation Army asked the hospital if there was anything they could dofor the wounded men. The reply was, that there were eighty wards and not agraphophone in one of them, nothing to amuse the boys. The need waspromptly filled by the Salvation Army which supplied a number ofgraphophones and a piano. Then, discovering that the nurses who weregetting only a very small cash allowance out of which they had to furnishtheir uniforms, were short of shoes, the indefatigable good Samaritanproduced a thousand dollars to buy new shoes for them. The Salvation Armyhas always been doing things like that. 

The Salvation Army built many huts, locating them wherever there was needamong the camps. They have a hut at Camp Grant, one at Camp Funston, oneat Camp Travis, San Antonio, one at Camp Logan, Houston, Texas, one atCamp Bowie, Fort Worth, one at Camp Cody, Deming, New Mexico, one at CampLewis, Tacoma, a Soldiers' Club at Des Moines, a Soldiers' Club withSitting Room, Dining Room, and rooms for a hundred soldiers just opened atChicago. There is a charge of twenty-five cents a night and twenty-fivecents a meal for such as have money. No charge for those who have nomoney. There is such a Soldiers' Club at St. Louis, Kansas City, St. Pauland Minneapolis. All of these places at the camps have accommodations forwomen relatives to visit the soldiers, and all of the rooms are alwaysfull to the limit. 

In Des Moines the Army has an interesting institution which grew out of agreat need. 

The Federal authorities have placed a Woman's Protective Agency in allCamp towns. At Des Moines the woman representative of the FederalGovernment sent word to the Salvation Army that she wished they would helpher. She said she had found so many young girls between the ages offourteen and sixteen who were being led into an immoral life through thesoldiers, and she wished the Salvation Army would open a home to take careof such girls. 

With their usual swiftness to come to the rescue the Salvation Army openedsuch a home. The Brigadier up in Chicago gave up his valued privatesecretary, a lovely young girl only twenty-four years old, to be at thehead of this home. It may seem a pretty big undertaking for so young agirl, but these Salvation Army girls are brought up to be wonderfully wiseand sweet beyond others, and if you could look into her beautiful eyes youwould have an understanding of the consecration and strength of characterthat has made it possible for her to do this work with marvellous success, and reach the hearts and turn the lives of these many young girls who havecome under her influence in this way. In her work she deals with theindividual, always giving immediate relief for any need, always pointingthe way straight and direct to a better life. The young girls are kept inthe home for a week or more until some near relative can be sent for, orlonger, until a home and work can be found for them. Every case is dealtwith on its own merits; and many young girls have had their feet set uponthe right road, and a new purpose in life given to them with new ideals, from the young Christian girl whom they easily love and trust. 

So great has been the success of the Salvation Army hut and women's hostelat Camp Lewis that the United States Government has asked the SalvationArmy to put up a hundred thousand dollar hotel at that camp which islocated twenty miles out of Tacoma. The Salvation Army hut at this placewas recently inspected by Secretary of War Baker and Chief of Staff whohighly complimented the Salvationists on the good work being done. 

A Christmas box was sent by the Salvation Army to each soldier in everycamp and hospital throughout the West. Each box contained an orange, anapple, two pounds of nuts, one pound of raisins, one pound of saltedpeanuts, one package of figs, two handkerchiefs in sealed packets, onebook of stamps, a package of writing paper, a New Testament, and aChristmas letter from the Commissioner at Headquarters in Chicago. 

No Officer in the Salvation Army has been more successful in ingeniousefforts to further all activities connected with the work thanCommissioner Estill in command of the Western forces. He is anindefatigable and tireless worker, is greatly beloved, and his effortshave met with exceptional success. 

It was a new manager who had taken hold of the affairs of the SalvationArmy Hostel in a certain city that morning and was establishing familyprayers. A visitor, waiting to see someone, sat in an alcove listening. 

There in the long beautiful living-room of the Hostel sat a littleaudience, two black women-the cooks-several women in neat aprons and capsas if they had come in from their work, a soldier who had been reading themorning paper and who quietly laid it aside when the Bible reading began, a sailor who tiptoed up the two low steps from the café beyond the living-room where he had been having his morning coffee and doughnuts--the youngclerk from behind the office desk. They all sat quiet, respectful, as ifaccorded a sudden, unexpected privilege. 

[Illustration: Thomas Estill Commissioner of the Western Forces]

[Illustration: The hut at Camp Lewis]

The reading was a few well-chosen verses about Moses in the mount ofvision and somehow seemed to have a strange quieting influence and carrieda weight of reality read thus in the beginning of a busy day's work. 

The reader closed the book and quite familiarly, not at all pompously, hesaid with a pleasant smile that this was a lesson for all of them. Eachone should have his vision for the day. The cook should have a vision asshe made the doughnuts--and he called her by her name--to make them justas well as they could be made; and the women who made the beds should havea vision of how they could make the beds smooth and soft and fine to restweary comers; and those who cleaned must have a vision to make the housequite pure and sweet so that it would be a home for the boys who camethere; the clerk at the desk should have a vision to make the boyscomfortable and give them a welcome; and everyone should have a vision ofhow to do his work in the best way, so that all who came there for a dayor a night or longer should have a vision when they left that God wasruling in that place and that everything was being done for His praise. 

Just a few simple words bringing the little family of workers into touchwith the Divine and giving them a glimpse of the great plan of laboringwith God where no work is menial, and nothing too small to be worth doingfor the love of Christ. Then the little company dropped upon their knees, and the earnest voice took up a prayer which was more an intimate wordwith a trusted beloved Companion; and they all arose to go about that workof theirs with new zest and--a vision!

In her alcove out of sight the visitor found refreshment for her own soul, and a vision also. 

This is the secret of this wonderful work that these people do in France, in the cities, everywhere; they have a vision! They have been upon theMountain with God and they have not forgotten the injunction:

"See that thou do all things according to the pattern given thee in theMount"

But the stories multiply and my space is drawing to a close. I am mindedto say reverently in words of old:

"And there are also many other things which these disciples of Jesus did, the which if they should be written every one, I suppose that even theworld itself could not contain the books that should be written;" but arethey not graven in the hearts of men who found the Christ on thebattlefield or the hospital cot, or in the dim candle-lit hut, throughthese dear followers of His?

XII. 

Letters of Appreciation

MY DEAR MISS BOOTH:

You may be sure that your telegram of November fifteenth warmed my heartand brought me very real cheer and encouragement. It is a message of justthe sort that one needs in these trying times, and I hope that you willexpress to your associates my profound appreciation and my entireconfidence in their loyalty, their patriotism, and their enthusiasm forthe great work they are doing. 

Cordially and sincerely yours, Woodrow Wilson. Nov. 30, 1917. 

MY DEAR MISS BOOTH:

I am very much interested to hear of the campaign the Salvation Army hasundertaken for money to sustain its war activities, and want to take theopportunity to express my admiration for the work that it has done and mysincere hope that it may be fully sustained. 

(Signed) WOODROW WILSON. The President of the United States of America. 

Commander Evangeline Booth, Paris, 7 April, 1919. 122 W. 14th Street, New York, U. S. A. 

I am very much interested to know that the Salvation Army is about toenter into a campaign for a sustaining fund. 

I feel that the Salvation Army needs no commendation from me. The love andgratitude it has elicited from the troops is a sufficient evidence of thework it has done and I feel that I should not so much commend ascongratulate it. 

Cordially and sincerely yours, Woodrow Wilson. 

British Delegation, Paris, 8th April, 1919. 

DEAR MADAM:

I have very great pleasure in sending you this letter to say how highly Ithink of the great work which has been done by the Salvation Army amongstthe Allied Armies in France and the other theatres of war. From all sidesI hear the most glowing accounts of the way in which your people haveadded to the comfort and welfare of our soldiers. To me it has always beena great joy to think how much the sufferings and hardships endured by ourtroops in all parts of the world have been lessened by the self-sacrificeand devotion shown to them by that excellent organization, the SalvationArmy. 

Yours faithfully, W. Lloyd George. 

General J. J. Pershing, France. 

The Salvation Army of America will never cease to hail you with devotedaffection and admiration for your valiant leadership of your valiant army. You have rushed the advent of the world's greatest peace, and all menhonor you. To God be all the glory!

Commander Evangeline Booth. 

Commander Evangeline Booth, New York City. 

"Many thanks for your cordial cable. The American Expeditionary Forcesthank you for all your noble work that the Salvation Army has done forthem from the beginning. "

General Pershing. 

With deep feeling of gratitude for the enormous contribution which theSalvation Army has made to the moral and physical welfare of thisexpedition all ranks join me in sending heartiest Christmas greetings andcordial best wishes for the New Year. 

(Signed) Pershing. 

Salvation, New York. Paris, April 22, 1919. 

The following cable received, Colonel William S. Barker, Director of theSalvation Army, Paris: My dear Colonel Barker--I wish to express to you mysincere appreciation, and that of all members of the AmericanExpeditionary Forces, for the splendid services rendered by the SalvationArmy to the American Army in France. You first submitted your plans to mein the summer of 1917, and before the end of that year you had a number ofHuts in operation in the Training Area of the First Division, and a groupof devoted men and women who laid the foundation for the affectionateregard in which the workers of your organization have always been held bythe American soldiers. The outstanding features of the work of theSalvation Army have been its disposition to push its activities as far aspossible to the Front, and the trained and experienced character of itsworkers whose one thought was the well-being of its soldiers they came toserve. While the maintenance of these standards has necessarily kept yourwork within narrow bounds as compared to some of the other welfareagencies, it has resulted in a degree of excellence and self-sacrifice inthe work performed which has been second to none. It has endeared yourorganization and its individual men and women workers to all thoseDivisions and other units to which they have been attached and haspublished their good name to every part of the American Expeditionaryforces. Please accept this letter as a personal message to each one ofyour workers. Very sincerely, John J. Pershing. 

Marshal Foch, Paris, France:

Your brilliant armies, under blessing of God, have triumphed. TheSalvation Army of America exults with war-worn but invincible France. Wemust consolidate for God of Peace all the good your valor has secured. Commander Evangeline Booth. 

[Illustration: Western Union cablegram (transcription below)]

WESTERN UNIONANGLO-AMERICAN DIRECT UNITED STATESCABLEGRAM34 Broadway N. Y. Received at 16 BROAD STREET, NEW YORK

193 F8 PZFRANCE 31

EVANGELINE BOOTHCOMMANDER SALVATION ARMYIN AMERICA NEW YORK

TRÈS TOUCHÉ DU SENTIMENT ÉLEVÉ QUI A INSPIRÉ VOTRETÉLÉGRAMME JE VOUS ADRESSE AINSI QU'À VOS ADHÉRENTS MESSINCÈRES REMERCIEMENTS

 MARECHAL FOCH

I am deeply touched by the high sentiment which inspiredyour cablegram, and I tender you and your adherents sincerethanks. 

 MARSHAL FOCH

Letter from Sir Douglas Haig

Just before leaving London on Thursday for his provincial campaigns, General Booth received the following letter from Field Marshal Sir DouglasHaig. The generous tribute will be read with intense satisfaction bySalvationists the world over:

General Headquarters, British Armies in France. March 27, 1918. 

I am glad to have the opportunity of congratulating the Salvation Army onthe service which its representatives have rendered during the past yearto the British Armies in France. 

The Salvation Army workers have shown themselves to be of the right sortand I value their presence here as being one of the best influences on themoral and spiritual welfare of the troops at the bases. The inestimablevalue of these influences is realized when the morale of the troops isafterwards put to the test at the front. 

The huts which the Salvation Army has staffed have besides been anaddition to the comfort of the soldiers which has been greatlyappreciated. 

I shall be glad if you will convey the thanks of all ranks of the BritishExpeditionary Forces in France to the Salvation Army for its continuedgood work. 

D. Haig, Field Marshal, Commanding British Armies in France. 

The Following Message from Marshal Joffre:

Miss Evangeline Booth, Apr. 9, 1919. New York City. 

"President Wilson has said that the work of the Salvation Army on theFranco-American front needs no praise in view of the magnificent resultsobtained and remains only to be admired and congratulated. I cannot dobetter than to use the same words which I am sure express the sentimentsof all French soldiers. "J. Joffre. "

From Field Marshal Viscount French. 

"Of all the organizations that have come into existence during the pastfifty years none has done finer work or achieved better results in allparts of the Empire than the Salvation Army. In particular, its activitieshave been of the very greatest benefit to the soldiers in this war. "

June 16, 1918. 

Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, writing from Oyster Bay, Long Island, underdate of April 11, 1918, has the following to say to the War Work Executiveof the Salvation Army:

"I was greatly interested in your letter quoting the letter from my sonnow with Pershing in France. His testimony as to the admirable work doneby the Salvation Army agrees with all my own observations as to what theSalvation Army has done in war and in peace. You have had to enlargeenormously your program and readjust your work in order to meet the needof the vast number of soldiers and sailors serving our country overseas;and you must have funds to help you. I am informed that over 40, 000Salvationists are in the ranks of the Allied armies. I can myself beartestimony to the fact that you have a practical social service, combinedwith practical religion, that appeals to multitudes of men who are notreached by the regular churches; and I know that you were able to put yourorganization to work in France before the end of the first month of theWorld War. I am glad to learn that you do not duplicate or parallel thework done by any other organization, and that you are in constant touchwith the War Work Councils of such organizations as the Y. M. C. A. Andthe Bed Cross. I happen to know that you are now maintaining and operating168 huts behind the lines in France, together with 70 hostels, and thatyou have furnished 46 ambulances, manned and officered by Salvationists. Iam particularly interested to learn that 6000 women are knitting under thedirection of the Salvation Army, and with materials furnished by thisorganization here in America, in order to turn out garments and usefularticles for the soldiers at the Front. 

"Faithfully yours, "(Signed) Theodore Roosevelt. "

April 21st, 1919. 

Commander Evangeline Booth, 120 West 14th Street, New York, N. Y. 

Dear Commander Booth:

I have known the Salvation Army from its beginning. 

The mother of the Salvation Army was Mrs. Catherine Booth, and her commonsense and Christian spirit laid the foundations; while her husband, General William Booth, in his impressive frame, fertility of ideas, andinvincible spirit of evangelism always seemed to me as if he were closelyrelated to St. Peter, the fisherman--the man of ideas and many questions, of the Lord's family. 

General William Booth was of a discipleship that kept him always on the"long, long trail" with a self-sacrificing spirit, but with a cheerfulnessthat heard the nightingales in the early mornings that awakened him toduty and service. He was never tired. The Salvation Army under the presentleadership of your brother, Bramwell Booth, has "carried on" along thesame roads, and with the same methods, as the great General who has passedinto the Beyond. 

The Salvation Army has been itself true to the spirit of its mightyoriginator during the present war. No work was too hard; no day was longenough; no duty too simple, no self-denial was too great. 

Prom my personal knowledge, the Salvation Army workers were consecrated totheir work. Just as the brave boys who carried the Flag, they weresoldiers fighting a battle, to find comforts, and a song to put music intothe hearts of the noble fellows that now lie sleeping on the ridges of theMarne, with their graves unmarked save with a cross. 

The sleepless vigilance of the Salvation Army extended from their kitchenswhere they cooked for the boys, to the hospitals where they prayed withthem to the last hour when life ended in a silence, the stillest of allslumbers. 

The Armies of every country in which they labored have a record of theirfaithfulness and devotion which will be sealed in the hearts of the manythousands they helped in the days of the struggle for peace. 

The question is, what can we do now to perpetuate the Salvation Army andits work, and my reply is, that there is nothing they ask or want thatshould be refused to them. They are worthy; they are competent; they canbe trusted with responsibility; and their splendid leader seems to havealmost a miraculous power for management in the work which her fathercommitted to her so far as America is concerned. 

Very sincerely yours, (Signed) John Wanamaker. 

Cardinal's Residence, 408 Charles Street, Baltimore. April 16, 1919. 

Hon. Charles S. Whitman, New York City. 

Honorable and Dear Sir:

I have been asked by the local Commander of the Salvation Army to addressa word to you as the National Chairman of the Campaign about to belaunched in behalf of the above named organization. This I am happy to do, and for the reason that, along with my fellow American citizens, I rejoicein the splendid service which the Salvation Army rendered our Soldier andSailor Boys during the war. Every returning trooper is a willing witnessto the efficient and generous work of the Salvation Army both at theFront, and in the camps at home. I am also the more happy to commend thisorganization because it is free from sectarian bias. The man in need ofhelp is the object of their effort, with never a question of his creed orcolor. 

I trust, therefore, your efforts to raise $13, 000, 000 for the SalvationArmy will meet with a hearty response from our generous American public. 

Faithfully yours, James, Cardinal, Gibbons. 

Commissioner Plenipotentiary of the United States of America. 

Paris, April 7th, 1919. 

My Dear Commander Booth:

Those of us who have been fortunate enough to see something of the work ofthe Salvation Army with the American troops have been made proud by thedevotion and self-sacrifice of the workers connected with yourorganization. 

I congratulate you and, through you, your associates, and I wish you thebest of fortune in the continuance of your splendid work. 

Very sincerely yours, L. M. House. 

Commander Evangeline Booth, Salvation Army. 

Evangeline Booth, Salvation Army Headquarters, New York. 

I have seen the work of the Salvation Army in France and consider it veryhelpful and valuable. I trust you will be able to secure the means notonly for its maintenance but for the enlargement of its scope. It is agood work and should be encouraged. 

Leonard Wood. Camp Funston, Kansas. 

Brigadier-General Duncan wrote to Colonel Barker thefollowing letter:

December 7, 1917. 

The Salvation Army in this its first experience with our troops hasstepped very closely into the hearts of the men. Your huts have been opento them at all times. They have been cordially received in a homelikeatmosphere and many needs provided in religious teachings. Your effortshave the honest support of our chaplains. I have talked with many of oursoldiers who are warm in their praise and satisfaction in what is beingdone for them. For myself I feel that the Salvation Army has a real placefor its activities with our Army in France and I offer you and yourworkers, men and women, good wishes and thanks for what you have done andare doing for our men. 

G. B. Duncan, Brigadier-General. 

The Salvation Army is doing a great work in France and every soldier bearstestimony to the fact. 

Omar Bundy, Major-General. 

Headquarters First Division, American Expeditionary Forces. 

France, September 15, 1918. 

From: Chief of Staff. 

To: Major L. Allison Coe, Salvation Army. 

Subject: Service in Operation against St. Mihiel Salient. 

1. The Division Commander desires me to express to you his appreciation ofthe particularly valuable service that the Salvation Army, through you andyour assistants, has rendered the Division during the recent operationagainst the St. Mihiel salient. 

2. You have furnished aid and comfort to the American soldier throughoutthe trying experiences of the last few days, and in accomplishing thisworthy mission have spared yourself in nothing. 

3. The Division Commander wishes me to thank you for the Division and forhimself. 

CK/T. Campbell King, Chief of Staff. 

CABLEGRAM. 

Paris, December 17, 1917. 

Commander Miss E, Booth, 120 W. 14th St. , New York. 

I am glad to be able to express my appreciation of the work done by theSalvation Army in the way of providing for the comfort and welfare of theCommand. I think the efforts of the Salvation Army are admirable anddeserving of appreciation and commendation, and I consider the effort ismade without advertisement and that it reaches and is appreciated by thosefor whom it is most needed. 

L. P. MURPHY, Lieut. -Colonel of Cavalry. 

CABLEGRAM. 

Paris, December 17, 1917. 

Commander Miss E. Booth, 120 W. 14th Street, New York City. 

I wish to express my most sincere appreciation of the work of yourorganization with my regiment. Your Officer has done everything that couldbe expected of any organization in carrying on his work with the soldiersof this command, and has surpassed any such expectations. He has assistedthe soldiers in every way possible and has gained their hearty good will. He has also shown himself willing and anxious to carry out regulations andorders affecting his organization. As a matter of fact, all the officersand soldiers of this command are most enthusiastic about the help of theSalvation Army, and you can hear nothing but praise for its work. The workof your organization, both religious and material, has been wholesome anddignified, and I desire you to know that it is appreciated. 

J. L. HINES, Colonel, Sixteenth Infantry. 

In sending a contribution toward the expenses of the War Work, ColonelGeorge B. McClellan wrote:

Treasurer, Salvation Army, July 24, 1918. 120 West 14th Street, New York City. 

DEAR SIR:

All the Officers I have talked with who have been in the trenches haveenthusiastically praised the work the Salvation Army is doing at thefront. They are agreed that for coolness under fire, cheerfulness underthe most adverse conditions, kindness, helpfulness and real efficiency, your workers are unsurpassed. 

Will you accept the enclosed check as my modest contribution to your WarFund, and believe me to be

Yours very truly, GEO. B. MCCLELLAND Lt. -Col. Ord. Dept. , N. A. 

CABLEGRAM. 

Paris, December 17, 1917. 

Commander Miss B. Booth, 120 West 14th Street, New York City, N. Y. 

I have carefully observed the work of the Salvation Army from their firstarrival in Training Area First Division American Expeditionary Force todate. The work they have done for the enlisted men of the Division and theplaces of amusement and recreation that they have provided for them, areof the highest order. I unhesitatingly state that, in my opinion, theSalvation Army has done more for the enlisted men of the First Divisionthan any other organization or society operating in France. 

F. G. LAWTON, Colonel, Infantry, National Army. 

To WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

The work of the Salvation Army as illustrated by the work of Major S. H. Atkins is duplicated by no one. He has been Chaplain and more besides. Hehas the confidence of officers and men. Major Atkins, as typifying theSalvation Army, has been forward at the very front with what is even moreimportant than the rear area work. 

THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

The following letter was sent to Major Atkins of the Salvation Army:

Headquarters, 1st Battalion, 26th Infantry, France, December 26, 1917. 

I wish to thank you for the great work you have beendoing here among the men of this battalion. You haveadded greatly to the happiness and contentment of us all; giving, as youhave, an opportunity for good, clean entertainment and pleasure. 

In religious work you have done much. As you know, this regiment has nochaplain, and you have to a large extent taken the place of one here. 

For myself, and on behalf of the officers stationed here, I wish toexpress my appreciation of the work that you have been doing here, and thehope that you can accompany the battalion wherever the fortune of war maylead us. 

Wishing you a very happy and successful New Year, I am

Yours sincerely, (Signed) THEODORE ROOSEVELT, JR. , Major (U. S. R. ), 26th Infantry. 

When Captain Archibald Roosevelt was lying woundedin Red Cross Hospital No. 1 he wrote the following letterto the same officer:

Red Cross Hospital No. 1. 

July 10, 1918. 

"You have, by your example, helped the men morally and physically. By yourcontinued presence in the most dangerous and uncomfortable periods, youhave made yourself the comrade and friend of every officer and man in ourbattalion. It is in this way that you have filled a position which theother charitable organizations had left vacant. 

"Let me also mention that, perfect Democrat that you are, you haverealized the necessity of discipline, and have helped make the disciplineunderstood by these men and officers. 

"If all the Salvation Army workers are like you, I sincerely hope to seethe time when there is a Salvation Army officer with each battalion in thecamp. "

Before leaving France for the United States, two SalvationArmy lassies received the following letter:

I was very sorry to hear that you had been taken from this division, anddesire to express my appreciation of the excellent assistance you havebeen to us. 

In all of our "shows" you have been with us, and I wish that I knew of themany sufferers you have cheered and made more comfortable. They are manyand, I am positive, will always have grateful thoughts of you. 

I have seen you enduring hardships--going without food and sleep, workingday and night, sometimes under fire, both shell and avion--and never haveyou been anything but cheerful and willing. 

I thank you and your organization for all of this, and assure you of therespect and gratitude of the entire division. 

J. I. MABEE, Colonel, Medical Corps, Division Surgeon. 

CABLE. 

January 17, 1918. 

The Salvation Army, New York:

As Inspector General of the First Division I have inspected all theSalvation Army huts in this Division area and I am glad to inform you thatyour work here is a well-earned success. Your huts are warm, dry, light, and, I believe, much appreciated by all the men in this Division. To makethese huts at all homelike under present conditions requires energy andability. I know that the Salvation Army men in this Division have it andam very willing to so testify. 

CONRAD S. BABCOCK, Lieut. -Colonel, Inspector General, First Division. 

"The Salvation Army keeps open house, and any time that a body of men comeback from the front lines, in from a convoy, there is hot coffee andsometimes home-made doughnuts (all free to the men). I was in command of atown where the hut never closed till 3 or 4 in the morning, and theirgirls baked pies and made doughnuts up to the front, under shell fire, forour infantrymen. A Salvation Army lassie is safe without an escortanywhere in France where there is an American soldier. That speaks foritself. I am for any organization that is out to do something for my men, and I think that it is the idea of the American people when they givetheir money. What we want is someone who is willing to come over here anddo something for the boys, regardless of the fact that it may not net anygain--in fact, may not help them to gather enough facts for a lecture tourwhen they return home. "

Headquarters, Third Division, September 5, 1918. 

MY DEAR MR. LEFFINGWELL:

Your letter of July 22d just received. It has, perhaps, been somewhatdelayed in reaching me, owing to the fact that I have recently beentransferred to another division. I only wish things had been so that Imight have granted you or a representative of the Salvation Army aninterview when I was in the States recently, but, being under orders, Icould wait for nothing. Whatever I may have said, in a casual way, of thework of the Salvation Army in France, I assure you was all deserved. Yourorganization has been doing a splendid work for the men of my formerdivision and other troops who have come in contact with it. I have oftenremarked, as have many of the officers, that after the war the SalvationArmy is going to receive such a boom from the boys who have come in touchwith it over here that it will seem like a veritable propaganda! Whyshouldn't it? For your work has been conducted in such a quiet, unostentatious, unselfish way that only a man whose sensibilities are deadcan fail to appreciate it. I have found several of your workers, whosenames at this moment I am unable to recall, putting up with all sorts ofhardships and inconveniences, working from daylight until well into thenight that the boys might be cheered in one way or another. Your shackshave always been at the disposal of the chaplains for their regimentalservices. Whether Mass for the Catholic chaplains or Holy Communion for anEpiscopalian chaplain, they always found a place to set up their altars inthe Salvation Army huts; and the Protestant chaplains, also the Jewish, always, to my knowledge, were given its use for their services. I havefound your own services have been very acceptable to the boys, in general, but perhaps your doughnut program, with hot coffee or chocolate, means asmuch as anything. Not that, like those of old, we follow the SalvationArmy because we can get filled up, but we all like their spirit. More thanon one occasion do I know of troops moving at night--and pretty wet andhungry--that have been warmed and fed and sent on their way with newcourage because of what some Salvation Army worker and hut furnished. Andas they went their way many fine things were said about the SalvationArmy. I am sure, as a result of this work, you have won the favor andconfidence of hundreds of these soldier lads, and, if I am not terriblymistaken, when we get home the Salvation tambourine will receive greaterconsideration than heretofore. 

I am glad to express my feelings for your work. God bless you in it, andalways!

Sincerely yours, LYMAN BOLLINS, Division Chaplain, Headquarters, Third Division, A. E. F. , via New York. 

At the Front in France, June 12, 1918. 

Commissioner Thomas Estill, Salvation Army, Chicago. 

MY DEAR COMMISSIONER:

We are engaged in a great battle. My time is all taken with our woundedand dead. Still I cannot resist the temptation to take a few moments inwhich to express our appreciation of the splendid aid given our soldiersby the Salvation Army. 

The work of the Salvation Army is not in duplication of that of any otherorganization. It is entirely original and unique. It fills a long-feltwant. Some day the world will know the aid that you have rendered oursoldiers. Then you will receive every dollar you need. 

Your work is also greatly appreciated by the French people. I have neverheard a single unfavorable comment on the Salvation Army. They arerespected everywhere. Their unselfish devotion to our well, sick, woundedand dead is above any praise that I can bestow. God will surely greatlyreward them. 

I heartily congratulate you on the class of workers you have sent overhere. I pray that your invaluable aid may be extended to our troopseverywhere. God bless you and yours, In His name, (Signed) THOMAS J. DICKSON, Chaplain with rank of Major, Sixth Field Artillery, First Division, U. S. Army. 

An appreciation written concerning the first SalvationArmy chaplain that was appointed after the war started:

Camp Cody, New Mexico, January 16, 1918. 

Major E. C. Clemans, 136th Infantry, Camp Cody, N. M. 

Commissioner Thomas Estill, Chicago, Ill. 

I have been associated with the chaplain now for nearly four months. Ihave found him a Christian soldier and gentleman. He is "on the job" allthe time and no Chaplain in this Division is doing more faithful andeffective work. He is thoroughly evangelistic, is burdened for the soulsof his men and is working for their salvation not in but from their sins. He is a "man's man, " knows how to approach men and knows how and does gethold of their affections in such a way that he is a help and a comfort tothem. He brings things to pass. 

The Salvation Army may be well pleased that it is so well represented inthe Army as it is by Chaplain Kline. 

Sincerely yours, (Signed) EZRA C. CLEMANS, Senior Chaplain, 34th Division. 

July 11, 1918. 

I have been familiar with the work of the Salvation Army for years, andthe organization from the beginning of the war has been doing a wonderfulwork with the Allied forces and since the entering of the United Statesinto the struggle has given splendid aid and coöperation not only inconnection with the war activities at home but also with our forcesabroad. Their work is entitled to the sincere admiration of every Americancitizen. 

MAJOR EDWIN F. GLENN. 

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

It gives me the greatest pleasure to testify to the very excellent work ofthe Salvation Army as I have seen it in this division. I have seen thework done by this organization for ten months, under all sorts ofconditions, and it has always been of the highest character. At the start, the Salvation Army was handicapped by lack of funds, but even underadverse conditions, it did most valuable work in maintaining cheerfulrecreation centres for the men, often in places exposed to hostile shell-fire. The doughnut and pie supply has been maintained. This seems a littlething, but it has gone a long way to keep the men cheerful. All theSalvation Army force has been untiring in its work under very tryingconditions, and as a result, I believe it has gained the respect andaffection of officers and men more than any similar organization. 

ALBERT J. MYERS, JR. , Major, National Army. 1st Div. , A. E. F. (Captain, Cavalry, U. S. A. )

Extract from letter from Captain Charles W. Albright:Q. M. , R. C. , France. 

"As to the Salvation Army, well, if they wanted our boys to lie down forthem to walk on, to keep their feet from getting muddy, the boys wouldgladly do so. 

"From everyone, officers and men alike, nothing but the highest praise isgiven the Salvation Army. They are right in the thick of danger, comforting and helping the men in the front line, heedless of shot, shellor gas, the U. S. Army in France, as a unit, swears by the Salvation Army. 

"I am proud to have a sister in their ranks. "

An old regular army officer who returned to Paris last week said:

"I wish every American who has stood on street corners in America andsneered at the work of the Salvation Army could see what they are doingfor the boys in France. 

"They do not proclaim that they are here for investigation or for gettingatmosphere for War romances. They have not come to furnish material forBroadway press agents. They do not wear, 'Oh, such becoming uniforms, 'white shoes, dainty blue capes and bonnets, nor do they frequent Paris tearooms where the swanky British and American officers put up. 

"Take it from me, these women are doing almighty fine work. There aretwenty-two of them here in France. We army men have given them shell-shattered and cast-off field kitchens to work with, and oh, man, thedoughnuts, the pancakes and the pies they turn out!

"I'm an old army officer, but what I like about the Salvation Army is thatit doesn't cater to officers. It is for the doughboys first, last and allthe time. The Salvation Army men do not wear Sam Browne belts; they do aslittle handshaking with officers as possible. 

"They cash the boys' checks without question, and during the month ofApril in a certain division the Salvation Army sent home $20, 000 for thesoldiers. The Rockefeller Foundation hasn't as yet given the SalvationArmy a million-dollar donation to carry on its work. Fact is, I don't knowjust how the Salvation Army chaplains and lassies do get along. But getalong they do. 

"Perhaps some of the boys and officers give them a lift now and then whenthe sledding is rough. They don't aim to make a slight profit as do someother organizations. 

"Ever since Cornelius Hickey put up 'Hickey's Hut, ' the first SalvationArmy hut in France, they have been working at a loss. I saw an Americanofficer give a Salvation Army chaplain 500 francs out of his pay at acertain small town in France recently. 

"The work done in 'Hickey's Hut' did much to endear the Salvation folks tothe doughboys. When a letter arrived in France some months ago addressedonly to 'Hickey's Hut, France, ' it reached its destination _toute desuite_, forty-eight hours after it arrived. 

"The French climate has hit our boys hard. It is wet and penetratinglycold. Goes right to the marrow, and three suits of underwear are noprotection against it. When the lads returned from training camp or thetrenches, wet, cold, hungry and despondent, they found a welcome in'Hickey's Hut. '

"Not a patronizing, holier-than-thou, we-know-we-are-doing-a-good-work-and-hope-you-doughboys-appreciate-it sort of a welcome, but a good oldSalvation Army, Bowery Mission welcome, such as Tim Sullivan knew how tohand out in the old days. 

"Around a warm fire with men who spoke their own language and who did notpretend to be above them in the social scale the doughboys forgot thatthey were four thousand miles from home and that they couldn't 'sling thelingo. '

"I saw a group of lads on the Montdidier front who had not been paid inthree months, standing cursing their luck. They had no money, therefore, they could not buy anything. 

"The Salvation Army had been apprised by telegraph that the doughboys wereplaying in hard luck. Presto! Out from Paris came a truck loaded witheverything to eat. The truck was unloaded and the boys paid for whateverthey wanted with slips of paper signed with their John Hancocks. TheSalvation Army lassies asked no questions, but accepted the slips of paperas if they were Uncle Sam's gold. 

"And one of the most useful institutions in Europe where war rages is onethat has no publicity bureau and has no horns to toot. This is theSalvation Army. In the estimation of many, the Salvation Army goes wayahead of the work of many of the other war organizations working here. Isee brave women and young women of the Salvation Army every day in placesthat are really hazardous. "

First Lieutenant Marion M. Marcus, Jr. , Field Artillery, wrote to one of our leading officers:

October 9, 1918. 

"If the people at home could see the untiring and absolute devotion of theworkers of the Salvation Army, in serving and caring for our men, theywould more than give you the support you ask. The way the men and womenexpose themselves to the dangers of the front lines and hardships has morethan endeared them to every member of the American Expeditionary Forces, and they are always in the right spot with cheer of hot food and drinkwhen it is most appreciated. "

EXTRACT FROM LETTER. 

"Away up front where things break hard and rough for us, and we are hungryand want something hot, we can usually find it in some old partlydestroyed building, which has been organized into a shack by--well, guess--the Salvation Army. 

"They are the soldier's friend. They make no display or show of any kind, but they are fast winning a warm corner in the heart of everyone. "

"I feel it is my duty to drop you a few lines to let you know how the boysover here appreciate what the Salvation Army is doing for them. It is asecond home to us. There is always a cheerful welcome awaiting us thereand _I have yet to meet a sour-faced cleric behind the counter_. OneSalvation Army worker has his home in a cellar, located close to thefront-line trenches. He cheerfully carries on his wonderful work amid theflying of shells and in danger of gas. He is one fine fellow, alwaysgreeting you with a smile. He serves the boys with hot coffee every day, free of charge, and many times he has divided his own bread with the tiredand hungry boys returning from the trenches. In the evening he servescoffee and doughnuts at a small price. Say, who wouldn't be willing tofight after feasting on that?

"In the many rest camps you will find the Salvation Army girls. They arelocated so close to the front-line trenches that they have to wear theirgas masks in the slung position, and they also have their tin hats readyto put on. The girls certainly are a fine, jolly bunch, and when it comesto baking pies and doughnuts they are hard to beat. The boys line up ahalf hour before time so as to be sure they get their share. I had thepleasure of talking to a mother and her daughter and they told me they hadsold out everything they had to the boys with the exception of some salmonand sardines on which they were living--salmon for dinner and sardines forsupper. They stood it all with big smiles and those smiles made me smilewhen I thought of my troubles. 

"In the trenches the boys become affected with body lice, known ascooties. A good hot bath is the only real cure for them. While on the wayto a bath-house a Salvation Army worker overtook us. He was riding in aFord which had seen better days. The springs on it were about all in andit made a noise like someone calling for mercy. The Salvation Army workerpulled up in front of us and with a broad smile on his face said: "Roomfor half a ton!" We did not need a second invitation and we soon had poorHenry loaded down. I thought sure it would give out, but the worker onlylaughed about it and kept on feeding the machine more gas as we cheereduntil it started away with us. 

"I want to tell you what the Salvation Army does for the moral side of thesoldier. The American soldier needs the guidance of God over here morethan he ever did in his whole life. Away from home and in a foreign landin every corner, one must have Divine guidance to keep him on the narrowpath of life. If it was not for the _workers of God over here the boyswould gradually break away and then I'm afraid we would not have the rightkind of fighters to hold up our end_. Of course, prayers alone won'tsatisfy the appetite of the American soldier, and the Salvation Army girlsget around that by baking for the boys. They believe in satisfying thecravings of the stomach as well as the craving of the soul and mind. Ialways enjoy the sermons at the Salvation Army. A good, every-day sermonis always appreciated. The Salvation Army helps you along in their goodold way, and they don't believe in preaching all day on what you should doand what you shouldn't do. The girls are a fine bunch of singers and theirsinging is enjoyed very much by all of the boys. It is a treat to see anAmerican girl so close to the front and a still better treat to listen toone sing. 

"The Salvation Army does much good work in keeping the boys in the rightspirit so that they are glad to go back to the trenches when their turncomes. There is no Salvation Army hut on this front. I often wish therewas one on every front. I believe the Salvation Army does not get its fullcredit over in the States. Perhaps the people over there do not understandthe full meaning of the work it is doing over here. I want the SalvationArmy to know that it has all of the boys over here back of it and we wantto keep up the good work. We will go through hell, if necessary, becausewe know the folks back home are back of us. We want the Salvation Army tofeel the same way. The _boys over here are really back of it and we wantyou to continue your good work_. "

"There is just one thing more I wish to speak of, and that is the littleold Salvation Army. You will never see me, nor any of the other boys overhere, laugh at their street services in the future, and if I see anyoneelse doing that little thing that person is due for a busted head! Ihaven't seen where they are raising a tenth the money some of the othersocieties are, but they are the topnotchers of them all as the soldiers'friend, and their handouts always come at the right time. Some of thosegirls work as hard as we do. "

"The Salvation Army over here is doing wonderful work. _They haven't anyshows or music, but they certainly know what pleases the boys most_, and feed us with homemade apple pie or crullers, with lemonade--a greatbig piece of pie or three crullers, with a large cup of lemonade, for afranc (18-1/2 cents). 

"These people are working like beavers, and the people in the States oughtto give them plenty of credit and appreciate their wonderful help to themen over here. " "We were in a bomb-proof semi-dugout, in the heart of adense forest, within range of enemy guns, my Hebrew comrade and I. We weretalking of the fate that brought us here--of the conditions as we leftthem at home. There was the thought of what 'might' happen if we were toreturn to America minus a limb or an eye; we were discussing the greateconomic and moral reform which is a certainty after the war, when throughthe air came the harmonious strumming of a guitar accompanying a sweet, feminine voice, and we heard:

 Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; Lead Thou me on; The night is dark and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on. Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene-- One step enough for me. 

"It was the Salvation Army! In a desert of human hearts, many of themwounded with heartache, these brave, brave servants of the Son of Davidcame to cheer us up and make life more bearable. 

"In our outfit are Greeks, Italians, Bohemians, Irish, Jews--all of themloyal Americans--and the Salvation Army serves each with an impartialself-sacrifice which should forever still the voices of critics whocondemn sending Army lassies over here. 

"Those in the ranks are men. The Salvation Army women are admired--almostworshipped--but respected and safe. Men by the thousands would lay downtheir lives for the Salvationists, and not till after the war will thefull results of this sacrifice by Salvation Army workers bear fruit. Butnow, with so many strong temptations to go the wrong way, here are noblegirls roughing it, smiling at the hardships, singing songs, makingdoughnuts for the doughboys, and always reminding us, even in danger, thatit is not all of 'life to live, ' bringing to us recollections of ourmothers, sisters, and sweethearts, and if anyone questions, 'Is it worthwhile?' the answer is: 'A thousand times yes!' and I cannot refrain fromsending my hearty thanks for all this service means to us. 

"A few miles in back of us now, a half dozen Connecticut girlsrepresenting the Salvation Army are doing their bit to make thingsbrighter for us, and say, maybe those girls cannot bake. Every day theyfurnish us with real homemade crullers and pies at a small cost, and theircoffee, holy smoke! it makes me homesick to even write about it. The girlshave their headquarters in an old tumble-down building and they must havesome nerve, for the Boche keeps dropping shells all around them day andnight, and it would only take one of those shells to blow the whole outfitinto kingdom come. "

In a letter from a private to his mother while he was lying wounded in thehospital, he says of the Salvation Army and Red Cross:

"Most emphatically let me say that they both are giving real service tothe men here and both are worthy of any praise or help that can be giventhem. This is especially so of the Salvation Army, because it is not fullyunderstood just what they are doing over here. They are the only onesthat, regardless of shells or gas, feed the boys in the trenches and bearhome to them the realization of what God really is at the very moment whenour brave lads are facing death. Their timely phrases about the Christ, handed out with their doughnuts and coffee, have turned many falteringsouls back to the path and they will never forget it. 'Man's extremity isGod's opportunity' surely holds good here. You may not realize or think itpossible, but a large majority of the boys carry Bibles and there areoften heated arguments over the different phrases. 

"I have just turned my pockets inside out and the tambourine could hold nomore, but it was all I had and I am still in debt to the Salvation Army. 

"For hot coffee and cookies when I was shivering like an aspen, forbuttons and patches on my tattered uniform, for steering me clear of thecamp followers; but more than all for the cheery words of solace for those'gone West, ' for the blessed face of a woman from the homeland in themidst of withering blight and desolation--for these I am indebted to theSalvation Army. "

CABLEGRAM. 

Paris, December 17, 1917. 

Commander Miss E. Booth, 120 W. 14th Street, New York, N. Y. 

Being a Private, I am one of the many thousands who enjoy the kindnessesand thoughtful recreation in the Salvation hut. The huts are alwayscrowded when the boys are off duty, for 'tis there we find warmth of bodyand comradeship, pleasures in games and music, delight in the palatablerefreshments, knowledge in reading periodicals, convenience in the writingmaterial at our disposal, and other home-like touches for enjoyment. Thecourtesy and good-will of the hut workers, combined with these goodthings, makes the huts a resort of real comfort with the big thought ofsalvation in Christ predominating over all. Appreciation of these huts, and all they mean to the soldier in this terrible war, rises full in allour hearts. 

CLINTON SPENCER, Private, Motor Action. 

"I just used to love to listen to the Salvation Army at 6th and PennStreets, but I never dreamed of seeing them over here. And when I firstsaw four girls cooking and baking all day I wondered what it was allabout. 

"But I didn't have long to find out, for that night I saw these same girlsput on their gas masks at the alert and start for the trenches. Then Istarted to ask about them. I never spoke to the girls, but fellows who hadbeen in the trenches told me that they came up under shell fire to givethe boys pies or doughnuts or little cakes or cocoa or whatever they hadmade that day. I thought that great of the Salvation Army. And many a boywho got help through them has a warm spot in his heart for them. 

"You can see by the paper I write on who gave it to us. It is SalvationArmy paper. Altogether I say give three hearty cheers for the SalvationArmy and the girls who risk their own lives to give our boys a littletreat. "

"I am going to crow about our real friends here--and it is the verdict ofall the boys--it is the Salvation Army, Joe. _That is the boys' motherand father here. It is our home_. They have a treat for us boys everynight--that is, cookies, doughnuts or pie--about 9 o'clock. But that isonly a little of them. The big thing is the spirit--the feeling a boy getsof being home when he enters the hut and meets the lassies and lads whocall themselves the soldiers of Christ, and we are proud to call thembrother soldiers. We think the world of them! So, Joe, whenever you get achance to do the Salvation Army a good turn, by word or deed, do so, asthereby you will help us. When we get back we are going to be theSalvation Army's big friend, and you will see it become one of the UnitedStates' great organizations. "

"My life as a soldier is not quite as easy as it was in Rochester, butstill I am not going to give up my religion, and I am not ashamed to letthe other fellows know that I belong to the Salvation Army. Sometimes theytry to get me to smoke or go and have a glass of beer with them, but Itell them that I am a Salvationist. There are twenty fellows in a hut, sothey used to make fun at me when I used to say my prayers. Once in awhileI used to have a _pair of shoes_ or a coat or something, thrown atme. I used to think what I could do to stop them throwing things at me, soI thought of a plan and waited. It was two or three nights before theythrew anything again. One night, as I was saying my prayers, someone threwhis shoes at me. After I got through I picked up the shoes and took out myshoe brushes and polished and cleaned the shoes thrown at me, and fromthat night to now I have never had a thing thrown at me. The fellow cameto me in a little while and said he was sorry he had thrown them. Thereare four or five Salvationists in our company--one was a Captain in theStates. The Salvation Army has three big huts here among the soldier boys. We have some nice meetings here, and they have reading-rooms and writingand lunch-rooms, so I spend most of my time there. "

LETTER OF COMMENDATION RE SALVATION ARMY. 

U. S. S. Point Bonita, 15 October, 1918. 

Miss Evangeline Booth, Commander, Care of Salvation Army Headquarters, 14th Street, New York City. 

DEAR MISS BOOTH:--

We want to thank you for presenting our crew with an elegant phonographand 25 records. We are all going to take up a collection and buy a lot ofrecords and I guess we will be able to pass the time away when we are noton watch. 

We have a few men in the crew who have made trips across on transports andthey say that every soldier and sailor has praised the Salvation Army way-up-to-the-sky for all the many kindnesses shown them. 

We also want to thank you for the kindness shown to one of our crew. TheMajor who gave us the present was the best yet and so was the gentlemanwho drove the auto about ten miles to our ship. That is the Salvation Armyall over. During the war or in times of peace, your organization reachesthe hearts of all. 

We all would like to thank Mr. Leffingwell for his great kindness inhelping us. 

The undersigned all have the warmest sort of feeling for you and theSalvation Army. 

Many, many thanks, from the ship's crew. 

"I was down to the Salvation Army the other day helping them cookdoughnuts and they sure did taste good, and the fellows fairly go crazy toget them, too. Anything that is homemade don't last long around here, andwhen they get candy or anything sweet there is a line about a block long. 

"Notice the paper this is written on? Well, I can't say enough about them. They sure are a treat to us boys, and almost every night they have goodeats for us. One night it is lemonade, pies and coffee, and the next it isdoughnuts and coffee, and they are just like mother makes. There are twogirls here that run the place, and they are real American girls, too. Thefirst I have seen since I have been in France, and I'll say they are atreat!

"Hogan and I have been helping them, and now I cook pies and doughnuts aswell as anyone. We sure do have a picnic with them and enjoy helping outonce in awhile. One thing I want you to do is to help the Salvation Armyall you can and whenever you get a chance to lend a helping hand to themdo it, for they sure have done a whole lot for your boy, and if you canget them a write-up in the papers, why do it and I will be happy. "

FROM LORD DERBY. 

"The splendid work which the Salvation Army has done among the soldiersduring the war is one for which I, as Secretary of State for War, shouldlike to thank them most sincerely; it is a work which is deserving of allsupport. "

STATE OF NEW JERSEYEXECUTIVE DEPARTMENTTRENTON. 

MY DEAR MR. BATTLE: December 27, 1917. 

I have learned of the campaign of the Salvation Army to raise money forits war activities. The work of the Salvation Army is at all timescommendable and deserving, but particularly so in its relation to the war. 

I sincerely hope that the campaign will be very successful. Cordially yours, (Signed) WALTER B. EDGE, Mr. George Gordon Battle, Governor. General Chairman, 37 Wall Street, New York City. 

GOVERNOR CHARLES S. WHITMAN'S ADDRESS AT LUNCHEONAT HOTEL TEN EYCK, ALBANY, NEW YORK, DECEMBER 8, 1917. 

"I take especial pleasure in offering my tribute of respect andappreciation to the Salvation Army. I have known of its work as intimatelyas any man who is not directly connected with the organization. In myposition as a judge and a district attorney of New York City for manyyears, I always found the Salvation Army a great help in solving thevarious problems of the poor, the criminal and distressed. 

"Frequently while other agencies, though good, hesitated, there was nevera case where there was a possibility that relief might be brought--neverwas a case of misery or violence so low, that the Salvation Army would notundertake it. 

"The Salvation Army lends its manhood and womanhood to go 'Over There'from our States, and our State, to labor with those who fight and die. There is very little we can do, but we can help with our funds. "

"The Salvation Army is worthy of the support of all right-thinking people. Its main purpose is to reclaim men and women to decency and goodcitizenship. This purpose is being prosecuted not only with energy andenthusiasm but with rare tact and judgment. 

"The sphere of the Army's operations has now been extended to thebattlefields of Europe, where its consecrated workers will coöperate withthe Y. M. C. A. , K. Of C. , and kindred organizations. 

"It gives me pleasure to commend the work of this beneficent organization, and to urge our people to remember its splendid service to humanity. 

"Very truly yours, "ALBERT E. SLEEPER, "Governor. "

Endorsement of January 25, 1918. Governor Hugh M. Dorsey, of Georgia. 

The Salvation Army has been a potent force for good everywhere, so far asI know. They are rendering to our soldiers "somewhere in France" the mostinvaluable aid, ministering not only to their spiritual needs, but caringfor them in a material way. This they have done without the blare oftrumpets. 

Many commanding officers certify to the fact that the Salvation Army isnot only rendering most effective work, but that this work is of adistinctive character and of a nature not covered by the activities ofother organizations ministering to the needs of the soldier boys. In otherwords, they are filling that gap in the army life which they have alwaysso well filled in the civil life of our people. 

STATE OF UTAHEXECUTIVE OFFICE

Salt Lake City, January 21, 1918. 

"I have learned with a great deal of interest of the splendid work beingdone by the Salvation Army for the moral uplift of the soldiers, both inthe training camps and in the field. I am very glad to endorse this workand to express the hope that the Salvation Army may find a way to continueand extend its work among the soldiers. "

(Signed) SIMON BAMBERG, Governor. 

FROM A PROCLAMATION BY GOVERNOR BRUMBAUGH. 

To the People of Pennsylvania:

I have long since learned to believe in the great, good work of theSalvation Army and have given it my approval and support through theyears. This mighty body of consecrated workers are like gleaners in thefields of humanity. They seek and succor and save those that most need andleast receive aid. Now, THEREFORE, I, Martin G. Brumbaugh, Governor ofthe Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, do cordially commend the work of theSalvation Army and call upon our people to give earnest heed to their callfor assistance, making liberal donations to their praiseworthy work andmanifesting thus our continued and resolute purpose to give our men inarms unstinted aid and to support gladly all these noble and sacrificingagencies that under God give hope and help to our soldiers. 

[SEAL]

GIVEN under my hand and the great seal of the State, at the City ofHarrisburg, this seventh day of February, in the year of our Lord onethousand nine hundred and eighteen, and of the Commonwealth the onehundred and forty-second. 

By the Governor:Secretary of the Commonwealth. Copy/h

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Executive Department, State House, Boston, February 15, 1918. 

It gives me pleasure to add my word of approval to the very noble workthat is being done by the Salvation Army for the men now serving thecountry. The Salvation Army has for many years been doing very valuablework, and the extension of its labors into the ranks of the soldiers hasnot lessened in any degree its power of accomplishment. The Salvation Armycan render most efficient service. It should be the aim of every one of usin Massachusetts to assist in every way the work that is being done forthe soldiers. We cannot do too much of this kind of work for them--theydeserve and need it all. I urge everybody in Massachusetts to assist theSalvation Army in every way possible, to the end that Massachusetts maymaintain her place in the forefront of the States of the Union who areassisting the work of the Army. 

(Signed) SAMUEL W. McCALL, Governor. 

PROCLAMATION. 

To the People of the State of Maryland:

I have been very much impressed with the good work which is being done inthis country by the Salvation Army, and I am not at all surprised at thegreat work which it is doing at the front, upon or near the battlefieldsof Europe. It is doing not only the same kind of work being done by theY. M. C. A. And the Knights of Columbus, but work in fields decidedly theirown. 

It is now undertaking to raise $1, 000, 000 for the National WarService and it is preparing a hutment equipped with libraries, dailynewspapers, games, light refreshments, etc. , in every camp inFrance. 

Now, THEREFORE, I, Emerson C. Harrington, Governor of Maryland, believing that the effect and purposes for which the Salvation Army isasking this money, are deserving of our warmest support, do hereby callupon the people of Maryland to respond as liberally as they can in thiswar drive being made by the Salvation Army to enable them more efficientlyto render service which is so much needed. 

[The Great Seal of the State of Maryland]

IN TESTIMONY WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand and caused to be heretoaffixed the Great Seal of Maryland at Annapolis, Maryland, this fourteenthday of February, in the year one thousand nine hundred and eighteen. 

EMERSON C. HARRINGTON. 

By the Governor, THOS. W. SIMMONS, Secretary of State. 

"The Salvation Army is peculiarly equipped for this kind of service. Ihave watched the career of this organization for many years, and I knowits leaders to be devoted and capable men and women. 

"Of course, any agency which can in any way ameliorate the condition ofthe boys at the front should receive encouragement. "

(Signed) FRANK C. LOWDEN, Governor of Illinois. 

"I join with thousands of my fellow citizens in having a great admirationfor the splendid work which has already been accomplished by the SalvationArmy in the alleviation of suffering, the spiritual uplift of the masses, and its substantial and prayerful ministrations. 

"The Salvation Army does its work quietly, carefully, persistently andeffectively. Our patriotic citizenry will quickly place the stamp ofapproval upon the great work being done by the Salvation Army among theprivate soldiers at home and abroad. "

(Signed) Governor BROUGH of Arkansas. 

Lansing, Michigan, June 13, 1918. 

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

Among the various organizations doing war work in connection with theAmerican Army, none are found more worthy of support than the SalvationArmy. Entering into its work with the whole-hearted zeal which hascharacterized its movement in times of peace, it has won the highestpraise of both officers and soldiers alike. 

It is an essential pleasure to commend the work of the Salvation Army tothe people of Michigan with the urgent request that its war activities begiven your generous support. 

ALBERT E. SLEEPER, Governor of the State of Michigan. 

MARK E. McKEE, Secretary, Counties Division, Michigan War Board. 

STATE OF KANSASARTHUR CAPPER, GOVERNOR, TOPEKA

August 8, 1917. 

I have been greatly pleased with the war activities of the Salvation Armyand want to express my appreciation of the splendid service rendered bythat organization on the battlefield of Europe ever since the war began. It is a most commendable and a most patriotic thing to do and I hope thepeople of Kansas will give the enterprise their generous support. 

Very respectfully, (Signed) ARTHUR CAPPER, Governor. 

"Best wishes for the success of your work. As the Salvation Army has doneso much good in time of peace, it has multiplied opportunities to do goodin the horrors of war, if given the necessary means. "

(Signed) MILES POINDEXTER, Senator from Washington. HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVESWASHINGTON, D. C. 

January 8, 1918. 

Colonel Adam Gifford, Salvation Army, 8 East Brookline Street, Boston, Mass. 

MY DEAR COLONEL GIFFORD:

I desire to write you in highest commendation of the work the SalvationArmy is doing in France. During last November I was behind the French andEnglish fronts, and unless one has been there they cannot realize theassistance to spirit and courage given to the soldiers by the "hut"service of the Salvation Army. 

The only particular in which the Salvation Army fell short was that therewere not sufficient huts for the demands of the troops. The huts I sawwere crowded and not commodious. 

Behind the British front I heard several officers state that the serviceof the Salvation Army was somewhat different from other services of thesame kind, but most effective. 

With kindest regards, I remain, Very sincerely yours, (Signed) GEOEGE HOLDEN TINKHAM, Congressman. 

This Condolence Card conveyed the sympathy of the Commander to the friendsof the fallen. Forethought had prepared this some time before the firstAmerican had made the supreme sacrifice. 

[Illustration (Condolence Card):GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN THAN THIS, THAT

122 W. 14th Street New York

My dear Friend:

I must on behalf of The Salvation Army, take this opportunity to say howdeeply and truly we share your grief at this time of your bereavement. Itwill be hard for you to understand how anything can soothe the pain madeby your great loss, but let me point you to the one Jesus Christ, whoacquainted Himself with all our griefs so that He might heal the heart'swounds made by our sorrows and whose love for us was so vast that He bledand died to save us. 

It may be some solace to think that your loved one poured out his life ina War in which high and holy principles are involved, and also that he wasquick to answer the call for men. 

Believe me when I say that we are praying and will pray for you. 

Yours in sympathy. 

(Signed) Evangeline BoothCOMMANDER

A MAN LAY DOWN HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIENDS]

"COMMANDER EVANGELINE BOOTH:

"The comfort and solace contained in the beautiful card of sympathy Irecently received from you is more than you can ever know. With all myheart I am very grateful to you and can only assure you feebly of my deepappreciation. 

"It has made me realize more than ever before the fundamental principlesof Christianity upon which your Army is built and organized, for how trulydoes it comfort the widow and fatherless in their affliction. 

"Tucked away as my two babies and I are in a tiny Wisconsin town, we feltthat our grief, while shared in by our good friends, was just a passingemotion to the rest of the world. But when a card such as yours comes, extending a heart of sympathy and prayer and ferrets us out in our sorrowin our little town, you must know how much less lonely we are because ofit. It surely shows us that a sacrifice such as my dear husband made isacknowledged and lauded by the entire world. 

"I am, oh! so proud of him, so comforted to know I was wife to a man soimbued with the principles of right and justice that he counted nosacrifice, not even his life, too great to offer in the cause. Not foranything would I ask him back or rob him of the glory of such a death. Yetour little home is sad indeed, with its light and life taken away. 

"The good you have done before and during the war must be a very greatsource of gratification for you, and I trust you may be spared for manyyears to stretch out your helping hand to the sorrowing and make us betterfor having known you. 

With deepest gratitude, "

"COMMANDER EVANGELINE BOOTH:

"I have just seen your picture in the November _Pictorial Review_ andI do so greatly admire your splendid character and the great work you aredoing. 

"I want to thank you for the message of Christian love and sympathy yousent to me upon the death of my son in July, aeroplane accident inEngland. 

"Without the Christian's faith and the blessed hope of the Gospel we woulddespair indeed. A long time ago I learned to pray Thy will be done for myson--and I have tested the promises and I have found them true. 

"May the Lord bless you abundantly in your own heart and in your worldwide influence and the splendid Salvation Army. "

"DEAR FRIENDS:

"Words fall far short in expressing our deep appreciation of yourcomforting words of condolence and sympathy. Will you accept as a smalltoken of love the enclosed appreciation written by Professor --------- ofthe Oberlin College, and a quotation from a letter written August 25th byour soldier boy, and found among his effects to be opened only in case ofhis death, and forwarded to his mother?

I amYours truly, "

Enclosure:

"November 16, 1918. 

"If by any chance this letter should be given to you, as something comingdirectly from my heart; you, who are my mother, need have no fear orregret for the personality destined not to come back to you. 

"A mother and father, whose noble ideals they firmly fixed in two sonsshould rather experience a deep sense of pride that the young chap ofnearly twenty-one years does not come back to them; for, though he wasfond of living, he was also prepared to die with a faith as sound andsteadfast as that of the little children whom the Master took in His arms. 

"And more than that, the body you gave to me so sweet and pure and strong, though misused at times, has been returned to God as pure and undefiled aswhen you gave it to me. I think there is nothing that should please youmore than that. 

 "In My Father's House are many mansions, I go to prepare a place for you; If it were not so, I would have told you. 

"Your Baby boy, "(Signed) PAUL. Chatereaux, France. August, 1918. 

N. B. --Written on back of the envelope:"To be opened only in case of accident. "

"COMMANDER EVANGELINE BOOTH:

"Permit me to express through you my deep appreciation of the consolingmessage from the Salvation Army on the loss of my brother, Clement, inFrance. I am indeed grateful for this last thought from an organizationwhich did so much to meet his living needs and to lessen the hardships ofhis service in France. I shall always feel a personal debt to those of youwho seemed so near to him at the end. "

"Miss EVANGELINE BOOTH:

"I was greatly touched by the card of sympathy sent me in your name on theoccasion of my great sorrow--and my equally great glory. The death of ahusband for the great cause of humanity is a martyrdom that any soldier'swife, even in her deep grief, is proud to share. 

"Thanking you for your helpful message, "

"Miss EVANGELINE BOOTH:

"Of the many cards of condolence received by our family upon the death ofmy dear brother, none touched us more deeply than the one sent by you. 

"We do indeed appreciate your thoughtfulness in sending words of comfortto people who are utter strangers to you. 

"Accept again, the gratitude of my parents as well as the other members ofour family, including myself. 

"May our Heavenly Father bless you all and glorify your good works. "

Miss Evangeline Booth, Commander of the Salvation Army, New York City, N. Y. 

DEAR MISS BOOTH:

I beg of you to pardon me for writing you this letter, but I feel that Imust. On the 17th day of March I received a letter from my boy in France, and it reads as follows:

"Somewhere in France, Jan. 15, 1918. "MY DEAR MOTHER:

"I must write you a few lines to tell you that you must not worry about meeven though it is some time since I wrote you. We don't have much time toourselves out here. I have just come out of the trenches, and now it ismud, mud, mud, up to one's knees. I often think of the fireplace at homethese cold nights, but, mother, I must tell you that I don't know what weboys would do if it was not for the Salvation Army. The women, they arejust like mothers to the boys. God help the ones that say anything butgood about the Army! Those women certainly have courage, to come right outin the trenches with coffee and cocoa, etc. , and they are so kind andgood. Mother, I want you to write to Miss Booth and thank her for me forher splendid work out here. When I come home I shall exchange the U. S. Uniform for the S. A. Uniform, and I know, ma, that you will not object. Well, the Germans have been raining shells to-day, but we were unharmed. Ipassed by an old shack of a building--a poor woman sat there with a baby, lulling it to sleep, when a shell came down and the poor souls had passedfrom this earthly hell to their heavenly reward. Only God knows theconditions out here; it is horrible. Well, I must close now, and don'tworry, mother, I will be home some day. 

"Your loving son, "

Well, Miss Booth, I got word three weeks ago that Joseph had been killedin action. I am heart-broken, but I suppose it was God's will. Poor boy!He has his uniform exchanged for a white robe. I am all alone now, as hewas my only boy and only child. Again I beg of you to pardon me forsending you this letter. 

December 10, 1917. 

Commander Evangeline C. Booth, New York City. 

MY DEAR COMMANDER:

I have just read in the New York papers of your purpose and plan to raisea million dollars for your Salvation Army work carried on in the interestsof the soldiers at home and abroad, and I cannot refrain from writing toyou to express my deep interest, and also the hope that you may besuccessful in raising this fund, because I know that it will be so welladministered. 

From all that I have heard of the Salvation Army work in connection withthe soldiers carried on under your direction, I think it is simplywonderful, and if there is any service that I can render you or the Army, I should be exceedingly pleased. 

I have read "Souls in Khaki, " and I wish that everyone might read it, forcould they do so, your million-dollar fund would be easily raised. 

With ever-increasing interest in the Salvation Army, I am, Cordiallyyours, (Signed) J. WILBUR CHAPMAN. Moderator of the General Assembly of the PresbyterianChurch in the U. S. A. 

SALVATION ARMY IS THE MOST POPULAR ORGANIZATIONIN FRANCE. 

Raymond B. Fosdick, chairman of the War Recreation Commission, on hisreturn from a tour of investigation into activities of the relieforganizations in France, gave out the following:

"Somewhat to my surprise I found the Salvation Army probably the mostpopular organization in France with the troops. It has not undertaken thecomprehensive program which the Y. M. C. A. Has laid out for itself; that is, it is operating in three or four divisions, while the Y. M. C. A. Isaiming to cover every unit of troops. 

"But its simple, homely, unadorned service seems to have touched thehearts of our men. The aim of the organization is, if possible, to put aworker and his wife in a canteen or a centre. The women spend their timemaking doughnuts and pies, and sew on buttons. The men make themselvesgenerally useful in any way which their service can be applied. 

"I saw such placed in dugouts way up at the front, where the German shellsscreamed over our heads with a sound not unlike a freight train crossing abridge. Down in their dugouts the Salvation Army folks imperturbablyhanded out doughnuts and dished out the 'drink. '"

WAR DEPARTMENTCOMMISSION ON TRAINING CAMP ACTIVITIES, WASHINGTON

45, Avenue Montaigne, Paris. 

Commander Evangeline Booth, Apr. 8, 1919. Salvation Army, New York City. 

MY DEAR COMMANDER BOOTH:

The work of the Salvation Army with the armed forces of the United Statesdoes not need any word of commendation from me. Perhaps I may be permittedto say, however, that as a representative of the War and Navy DepartmentsI have been closely in touch with it from its inception, both in Europeand in the United States. I do not believe there is a doughboy anywherewho does not speak of it with enthusiasm and affection. Its remarkablesuccess has been due solely to the unselfish spirit of service which hasunderlain it. Nothing has been too humble or too lowly for the SalvationArmy representative to do for the soldier. Without ostentation, withoutadvertising, without any emphasis upon auspices or organization, yourpeople have met the men of the Army as friends and companions-in-arms, andthe soldiers, particularly those of the American Expeditionary Force, willnever forget what you have done. 

Faithfully yours, (Signed) RAYMOND B. FOSDICK. 

From Honorable Arthur Stanley, Chairman British Red Cross Society. 

BRITISH RED CROSS SOCIETYJOINT WAR COMMITTEE

83 Pall Mall, London, S. W. , December 22, 1917. 

General Bramwell Booth. 

DEAR GENERAL BOOTH:

I enclose formal receipt for the cheque, value £2000, which was handed tome by your representative. I note that it is a contribution from theSalvation Army to the Joint Funds to provide a new Salvation Army MotorAmbulance Unit on the same conditions as before. 

I cannot sufficiently thank you and the Salvation Army for this verygenerous donation. 

I am indeed glad to know that you are providing another twenty drivers forservice with our Ambulance Fleet in France. This is most welcome news, aswhenever Salvation Army men are helping we hear nothing but good reportsof their work. Sir Ernest Clarke tells me that your Ambulance Sections arequite the best of any in our service, and the more Salvation Army men youcan send him, the better he will be pleased. I would again take thisopportunity of congratulating you, which I do with all my heart, upon thesplendid record of your Army. 

Yours sincerely, (Signed) ARTHUR STANLEY. 

Extract from Judge Ben Lindsey's picture of the Salvation Army at theFront:

"A good expression for American enthusiasm is: 'I am crazy about'--this, or that, or the other thing that excites our admiration. Well, 'I am crazyabout the Salvation Army'--the Salvation Army as I saw it and mingled withit and the doughboys in the trenches. And when I happened to be passingthrough Chicago to-day and saw an appeal in the _Tribune_ for theSalvation Army, I remembered what our boys so often shouted out to me as Ipassed them in the trenches and back of the lines: 'Judge, when you getback home tell the folks not to forget the Salvation Army. They're thereal thing. '

 "And I know they are the real thing. I have shared with the boys thedoughnuts and chocolate and coffee that seemed to be so much better thanany other doughnuts or coffee or chocolate I have ever tasted before. Andwhen it seemed so wonderful to me after just a mild sort of experiencedown a shell-swept road, through the damp and cold of a French winter day, what must it be to those boys after trench raids or red-hot scraps downrain-soaked trenches under the wet mists of No Man's Land?. .. Listen tosome of the stories the boys told me: 'You see, Judge, the good oldSalvation Army is the real thing. They don't put on no airs. There ain'tno flub-dub about them and you don't see their mugs in the fancy magazinesmuch. Why, you never would see one of them in Paris around the hotels. You'd never know they existed, Judge, unless you came right up here to thefront lines as near as the Colonel will let you!'

"And one enthusiastic urchin said: 'Why, Judge, after the battleyesterday, we couldn't get those women out of the village till they'd seenevery fellow had at least a dozen fried cakes and all the coffee orchocolate he could pile in. We just had to drag 'em out--for the boys love'em too much to lose 'em--we weren't going to take no chances--not much--for our Salvation ladies!'"

HARRY LAUDER'S ENDORSEMENT. 

In speaking of the Salvation Army's work before the Rotary Club of SanFrancisco, Harry Lauder said:

"There is no organization in Europe doing more for the troops than theSalvation Army, and the devotion of its officers has caused the SalvationArmy to be revered by the soldiers. "

Mr. Otto Kahn, one of America's most prominent bankers, upon his return tothis country after a tour through the American lines in France, writes, among other things:

"I should particularly consider myself remiss if I did not refer withsincere admiration to the devoted, sympathetic, and most efficient work ofthe Salvation Army, which, though limited in its activities to a fewsectors only, has won the warm and affectionate regard of those of ourtroops with whom it has been in contact. "

 * * * * *

Mr. David Lawrence, special Washington correspondent of the _New YorkEvening Post_ and other influential papers, in an article in which hecomments on the work of all the relief agencies, says of the SalvationArmy in France:

"Curiously enough the Salvation Army is spoken of in all official reportsas the organization most popular with the troops. Its organization is thesmallest of all four. Its service is simple and unadorned. It specializeson doughnuts and pie, which it gives away free whenever the ingredients ofthe manufacture of those articles are at hand. 

"_The policy of the organization_ is to place a worker and his wife, if possible, with a unit of troops. The woman makes doughnuts and sews onbuttons, while the man helps the soldiers in any way he can. 

"_The success of the Salvation Army_ is attributed by commandingofficers to the fact that the workers know how to mix naturally. _Inother cases there had been sometimes an air of condescension not unlikethat of the professional settlement house worker_. "

 * * * * *

In a recent issue of the _Saturday Evening Post_, Mr. Irvin Cobb, whohas just returned from France, has this to say of the Salvation Army:

"Right here seems a good-enough place for me to slip in a few words ofapprobation for the work which another organization has accomplished inFrance since we put our men into the field. Nobody asked me to speak inits favor because, so far as I can find out, it has no publicitydepartment. I am referring to the Salvation Army. May it live forever forthe service which, without price and without any boasting on the part ofits personnel, it is rendering to our boys in France!

"A good many of us who hadn't enough religion, and a good many more of uswho, mayhap, had too much religion, looked rather contemptuously upon themethods of the Salvationists. Some have gone so far as to intimate thatthe Salvation Army was vulgar in its methods and lacking in dignity andeven in reverence. Some have intimated that converting a sinner to the tapof a bass drum or the tinkle of a tambourine was an improper processaltogether. Never again, though, shall I hear the blare of the cornet asit cuts into the chorus of hallelujah whoops, where a ring of blue-bonneted women and blue-capped men stand exhorting on a city street-cornerunder the gaslights, without recalling what some of their enrolledbrethren--and sisters--have done, and are doing, in Europe!

"The American Salvation Army in France is small, but, believe me, it ispowerfully busy! Its war delegation came over without any fanfare of thetrumpets of publicity. It has no paid press agents here and no impressiveheadquarters. There are no well-known names, other than the names of itsexecutive heads, on its rosters or on its advisory boards. None of itsmembers are housed at an expensive hotel and none of them have handsomeautomobiles in which to travel about from place to place. No campaigns toraise nation-wide millions of dollars for the cost of its ministrationsoverseas were ever held at home. I imagine it is the pennies of the poorthat mainly fill its war chest. I imagine, too, that sometimes itsfinances are an uncertain quantity. Incidentally, I am assured that notone of its male workers here is of draft age unless he holds exemptionpapers to prove his physical unfitness for military service. TheSalvationists are taking care to purge themselves of any suspicion thatpotential slackers have joined their ranks in order to avoid thepossibility of having to perform duties in khaki. 

"Among officers, as well as among enlisted men, one occasionally hearscriticism--which may or may not be based on a fair judgment--for certainbranches of certain activities of certain organizations. But I have yet tomeet any soldier, whether a brigadier or a private, who, if he spoke atall of the Salvation Army, did not speak in terms of fervent gratitude forthe aid that the Salvationists are rendering so unostentatiously and yetso very effectively. Let a sizable body of troops move from one station toanother, and hard on its heels there came a squad of men and women of theSalvation Army. An army truck may bring them, or it may be they have abattered jitney to move them and their scanty outfits. Usually they do notask for help from anyone in reaching their destinations. They findlodgment in a wrecked shell of a house or in the corner of a barn. By mainforce and awkwardness they set up their equipment, and very soon the wordhas spread among the troops that at such and such a place the SalvationArmy is serving free hot drinks and free doughnuts and free pies. Itspecializes in doughnuts--the Salvation Army in the field does--the realold-fashioned home-made ones that taste of home to a homesick soldier boy!

"I did not see this, but one of my associates did. He saw it last winterin a dismal place on the Toul sector. A file of our troops were finishinga long hike through rain and snow over roads knee-deep in half-thawed icyslush. Cold and wet and miserable they came tramping into a cheerless, half-empty town within sound and range of the German guns. They found areception committee awaiting them there--in the person of two SalvationArmy lassies and a Salvation Army Captain. The women had a fire going inthe dilapidated oven of a vanished villager's kitchen. One of them wasrolling out the batter on a plank, with an old wine-bottle for a rollingpin, and using the top of a tin can to cut the dough into circular strips;the other woman was cooking the doughnuts, and as fast as they were cookedthe man served them out, spitting hot, to hungry, wet boys clamoring aboutthe door, and nobody was asked to pay a cent!

"At the risk of giving mortal affront to ultradoctrinal practitioners ofapplied theology, I am firmly committed to the belief that by the graceand the grease of those doughnuts those three humble benefactors that daystrengthened their right to a place in the Heavenly Kingdom. "

MY DEAR COLONEL JENKINS:

I take pleasure in sending you a copy of my report as Commissioner toFrance, in which I made reference to the work of the Salvation Army withour American Expeditionary Forces. 

I cannot recall ever hearing the slightest criticism of the work of theSalvation Army, but I heard many words of enthusiastic appreciation on thepart not only of the Generals and officers but of the soldiers. 

I saw many evidences showing that the unselfish, sometimes reckless, abandon of your workers had a great effect upon our men. 

I am sure that the Salvation Army also stands in high respect for itsreligious influence upon the men. 

It was pleasant still further to hear such words of appreciation as I didfrom General Duncan regarding the work of Chaplain Allan, the divisionalchaplain of General Duncan's unit. He has evidently risen to his work in asplendid way. It is a pleasure to have this opportunity of rendering thistestimony to you. 

Faithfully yours, CHARLES S. MACFARLAND, General Secretary. 

The _New York Globe_ printed the following:

HUNS DON'T STOP SALVATION ARMY. MEETING HELD INDEEP DUGOUT UNDER RUINED VILLAGE--MANDOLINSUPPLANTS THE ORGAN. 

By Herbert Corey. 

JUST BEHIND THE SOMME FRONT, May 3l. --Somewhere in the tangle of smashedwalls there was a steely jingle. At first the sound was hard to identify, so odd are acoustics in this which was once a little town. There were stubends of walls here and there--bare, raw snags of walls sticking up--andnow and then a rooftree tilted pathetically against a ruin, or a pile ofdusty masonry that had been a house. A little path ran through thistangle, and under an arched gateway that by a miracle remained standingand down the steps of a dugout. The jingling sound became recognizable. Some one was trying to play on a mandolin:

"Jesus, Lover of My Soul. "

It was grotesque and laughable. The grand old hymn refused its cadences tothis instrument of a tune-loving bourgeoise. It seemed to stand aloof andunconquered. This is a hymn for the swelling notes of an organ or for thegreat harmonies of a choir. It was not made to be debased by associationwith this caterwauling wood and wire, this sounding board for barbershopchords, this accomplice of sick lovers leaning on village fences. Thenthere came a voice:

"By gollies, brother, you're getting it! I actually believe you're gettingit, brother. We'll have a swell meeting to-night. "

I went down the steps into the Salvation Army man's dugout. A largesoldier, cigarette depending from his lower lip, unshaven, tin hat tippedon the back of his head, was picking away at the wires of the mandolinwith fingers that seemed as thick and yellow as ears of corn. As I came inhe stated profanely, that these dam' things were not made to pick outcondemn' hymn tunes on. The Salvation Army man encouraged him:

"You keep on, brother, " said he, "and we'll have a fine meeting for theBrigadier when he comes in to-night. "

TAKING HIS CHANCES. 

Another boy was sitting there, his head rather low. The mandolin playerindicated him with a jerk. "He got all roughed up last night, " said he. "We found a bottle of some sweet stuff these Frogs left in the house wherewe're billeted. Tasted a good deal like syrup. But it sure put Bull out. "

Bull turned a pair of inflamed eyes on the musician. 

"You keep on a-talkin', and I'll hang somep'n on your eye, " said Bull, hoarsely. 

Then he replaced his head in his hands. The Salvation Army man laughed atthe interlude and then returned to the player. 

"See, " said he, "it goes like this----" He hummed the wonderful old hymn. 

The floor of the dugout was covered with straw. The stairs which led to itwere wide, so that at certain hours the sun shone in and dried out thewalls. There were few slugs crawling slimily on the walls of the SalvationArmy's place. Rats were there, of course, and bugs of sorts, but fewslugs. On the whole it was considered a good dugout, because of thesethings. The roof was not a strong one, it seemed to me. A 77-shell wouldgo through it like a knife through cheese. I said so to the Salvation Armyman. 

"Aw, brother, " said he. "We've got to take our chances along with therest. "

At the foot of the stairs was a table on which were the few things theSalvation Army man had to sell, up here under the guns. There were somefigs and a handful of black licorice drops and a few nuts. Boys keptcoming in and demanding cookies. Cookies there were none, but there washope ahead. If the Brigadier managed to get in to-night with the fliv, there might be cookies. 

NO MONEY, BUT GOOD CHEER. 

"Just our luck, " said some morose doughboy, "if a shell hit the fliv. It'sa hell of a road----"

"No shell has hit it yet, brother, " said the Salvation Army man, cheerily. 

Fifteen dollars would have bought everything he had in stock. One couldhave carried away the whole stock in the pockets of an army overcoat. TheSalvation Army has no money, you know. It is hard to buy supplies forcanteens over here, unless a pocket filled with money is doing the buying. The Salvation Army must pick up its stuff where it can get it. Yesterdaythere had been sardines and shaving soap and tin watches. To-day therewere only figs and licorice drops and nuts. 

"But if the Brigadier gets in, " said the Salvation Army man, "there willbe something sweet to eat. And we'll have a little meeting of song andpraise, brother--just to thank God for the chance he has given us tohelp. "

Here there is no one else to serve the boys. Other organizations have moremoney and more men, but for some reason they have not seen fit to come tothis which was once a town. Shells fall into it from six directions allday and all night long. Now and then it is gassed. A few kilometres awayis the German line. One reaches town over a road which is nightly torn topieces by high explosives. No one comes here voluntarily, and no one stayswillingly--except the Salvation Army man. He's here for keeps. 

Men come down into his little dugout to play checkers and dominoes and buysweet things to eat. He is here to help them spiritually as well asphysically and they know it, and yet they do not hear him. He talks tothem just as they talk to each other, except that he does not swear and hedoes not tell stories that have too much of a tang. He never obtrudes hisreligion on them. Just once in a while--on the nights the Brigadier getsin--there is a little song and praise meeting. They thank God for thechance they have to help. 

That night the Brigadier got in with his cookies and chocolates and hismessage that salvation is free. Perhaps a dozen men sat arounduncomfortably in the little dugout and listened to him. The man of themandolin had refused at the last moment. He said he would be dam' if hecould play a hymn tune on that thing. But the old hymn quavered cheerilyout of the little dugout into the shell-torn night. The husky voices ofthe Brigadier and the Ensign and Holy Joe carried it on, while the littleaudience sat mute. 

 While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high. 

Then there was a little prayer and a few straight, cordial words from theBrigadier and then, somewhere in that perilous night outside, "taps"sounded and the men were off to bed. They had no word of thanks as theyshook hands on parting. They did not speak to each other as they pickedtheir way along the path through the ruins. But when they reached thestreet some one said very profanely and very earnestly:

"I can lick any man's son who says THEY ain't all right. "

"I have just received your letter of the 30th of July, and it has cheeredmy heart to know you take an interest in a poor Belgian prisoner of war. 

"Since I wrote to you last we have been changed to another camp; the onewe are now in is quite a nice camp, with lots of flowers, and we areallowed more freedom, but it is very bad regarding food. We have so verylittle to eat, it is a pity we can't eat flowers! We rise up hungry and goto bed hungry, and all day long we are trying to still the craving forfood. So you will understand the longing there is in our hearts to onceagain be free--to be able to go to work and earn our daily bread! But theone great comfort that I find is since I learned to know Jesus as mySaviour and Friend I can better endure the trials and even rejoice that Iam called to suffer for His sake, and while around me I see many who arein despair--some even cursing God for all the misery in which we aresurrounded, some trying to be brave, some giving up altogether--yet to anumber of us has come the Gospel message, brought by the Salvation Army, and I am so glad that I, for one, listened and surrendered my life to thisJesus! Now I have real peace, and He walks with me and gives me grace toconquer the evil. 

"When I lived in Belgium I was very worldly and sinful--I lived forpleasure and drink and sin. I did not then know of One who said, 'Comeunto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. 'I did not know anything about living a Christian life, but now it is allchanged and I am so thankful! Salvation Army officers visit us and bringwords of cheer and blessing and comfort. You will be glad to know that Ihave applied to our Commissioner to become a Salvation Army officer whenthe war is over. I want to go to my poor little stricken country and tellmy people of this wonderful Saviour that can save from all sin!

"On behalf of my comrades and myself, I want to thank the American nationfor all they have done, and are still doing, for my people. May God blessyou all for it, and may He grant that before long there will be peace onearth!

"I remain, faithfully yours, "REMY MEERSMAN. "

THE "STARS AND STRIPES" SPEAKS FROM FRANCE FOR THESALVATION ARMY. 

A copy of the "Stars and Stripes, " the official publication of theAmerican Expeditionary Forces published in Prance by the American soldiersthemselves, just received in Chicago, contains the following:

"Perhaps in the old days when war and your home town seemed as far apartas Paris, France, and Paris, Ill. , you were a superior person who used tosnicker when you passed a street corner where a small Salvation Army bandwas holding forth. Perhaps--Heaven forgive you--you even sneered a littlewhen you heard the bespectacled sister in the poke-bonnet bang hertambourine and raise a shrill voice to the strains of 'Oh death, where isthy sting-a-ling. ' Probably--unless you yourself had known the bitternessof one who finds himself alone, hungry and homeless in a big city--you didnot know much about the Salvation Army. 

Well, we are all homeless over here and every American soldier will takeback with him a new affection and a new respect for the Salvation Army. Many will carry with them the memories of a cheering word and a friendlycruller received in one of the huts nearest of all to the trenches. Therethe old slogan of 'Soup and Salvation' has given way to 'Pies and Piety. 'It might be 'Doughnuts and Doughboys. ' These huts pitched within the shockof the German guns, are ramshackle and bare and few, for no organizationcan grow rich on the pennies and nickels that are tossed into thetambourines at the street-corners of the world. But they are doing a workthat the soldiers themselves will never forget, and it is an especialpleasure to say so here, because the Salvation Army, being much too simpleand old-fashioned to know the uses of advertisement, have never asked usto. You, however, can testify for them. Perhaps you do in your lettershome. And surely when you are back there and you pass once more a'meeting' at the curb, you will not snicker. You will tarry awhile--andtake off your hat. "

We have received a letter from Mr. Lewis Strauss, Secretary to Mr. HerbertHoover, who has just returned from France, and he says that Mr. Hoover'stime while in Europe was spent almost wholly in London and Paris, and thathe had no opportunity for observing our War Relief Work at the front. Theconcluding paragraph of the letter, however, is as follows:

"Mr. Hoover has frequently heard the most complimentary reports of theinvaluable work which your organization is performing in invariably themost perilous localities, and he is filled with admiration for those whoare conducting it at the front. "

THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE (MAY 17, 1918), QUOTING FROM THEABOVE, ALSO SPEAKS EDITORIALLY. 

The acid test of any service done for our soldiers in France is the valuethe men themselves place upon it. No matter how excellent our intentions, we cannot be satisfied with the result if the soldiers are not satisfied. Without suggesting any invidious distinctions among organizations that areworking at the front, it is nevertheless a pleasure to record that theSalvation Army stands very high in the regard of American soldiers. 

The evidence of the Salvation Army's excellent work comes from manysources. 

APPENDIX. 

A Few Facts about the Salvation Army

It has been truly said that within four days after the German Army enteredBelgium, another Army entered also--the Salvation Army! One came todestroy, the other to relieve distress and minister to the wounded anddying. 

The British Salvation Army furnished a number of Red Cross Ambulances, manned by Salvationists when the Red Cross was in great need of such. Whenthese arrived in France and people first saw the big cars with the"Salvation Army" label it attracted a good deal of attention. The driverswore the Red Cross uniform, and were under its military rules, but wore ontheir caps the red band with the words, "Salvation Army. "

There is a story of a young officer in sportive mood who left a group ofhis companions and stepped out into the street to stop one of theseambulances:

"Hello! Salvation Army!" he cried. "Are you taking those men to heaven?"

Amid the derisive laughter of the officers on the sidewalk theSalvationist replied pleasantly:

"I cannot say I am taking them to heaven, but I certainly am taking themaway from the other place. "

One of the good British Salvationists wrote of meeting our American boysin England. He said:

"Oh, these American soldiers! One meets them in twos and threes, all overthe city, everlastingly asking questions, by word of mouth and by wide-open trustful eyes, and they make a bee-line for the Salvation Armyuniform on sight. I passed a company of them on the march across London, from one railroad station to another, the other, day. They were obviouslyinterested in the sights of the city streets as they passed through atnoon, but as they drew nearer one of the boys caught sight of the red bandaround my cap among the hate crowning the sidewalk crowd. My! but that oneman's interest swept over the hundred odd men! Like the flame of a prairiefire, it went with a zip! They all knew at once! They had no eyes for thecrowd any more; they did not stare at the façade of the railway terminuswhich they were passing; they saw nothing of the famous 'London Stone' setin the wall behind its grid on their right hand. What they saw was aSalvation Army man in all his familiar war-paint, and it was a sight forsore eyes! Here was something they could understand! This was an Americaninstitution, a tried, proved and necessary part of the life of anycommunity. All this and much more those wide-open eyes told me. It was asgood to them as if I was stuck all over with stars and stripes. Ibelonged--that's it--belonged to them, and so they took off the veil andshowed their hearts and smiled their good glad greeting. 

"So I smiled and that first file of four beamed seraphic. Two at leastwere of Scandinavian stock, but how should that make any difference? Againand again I noticed their counterpart in the column which followed. .. . Itwas all the same; file upon file those faces spread out in eagerparticular greeting; those eyes, one and all, sought mine expecting thesmile I so gladly gave. And then when the last was past and I gazed upontheir swaying forms from the rear I wondered why my eyes were moist andsomething had gone wrong with my swallowing apparatus. Great boys! Bonnyboys!"

The Salvation Army was founded July 5, 1865, as a Christian Mission inEast London by the Reverend William Booth, and its first Headquartersopened in Whitechapel Road, London. Three years later work was begun inScotland. 

In 1877 the name of the Christian Mission was altered to the SalvationArmy, and the Reverend William Booth assumed the title of General. 

December 29, 1879, the first number of the official organ, "The War Cry, "was issued and the first brass band formed at Consett. 

In 1880 the first Training School was opened at Hackney, London, and thefirst contingent of the Salvation Army officers landed in the UnitedStates. The next year the Salvation Army entered Australia, and wasextended to France. 1882 saw Switzerland, Sweden, India and Canadareceiving their first contingent of Salvation Army officers. A LondonOrphan Asylum was acquired and converted into Congress Hall, which, withits large Auditorium, with a seating capacity of five thousand, stillremains the Mammoth International Training School for Salvation Armyofficers, for missionary and home fields all over the world. The firstPrison-Gate Home was opened in London in this same year. 

The Army commenced in South Africa, New Zealand and Iceland in 1883. 

In 1886 work was begun in Germany and the late General visited France, theUnited States and Canada. The First International Congress was held inLondon in that year. 

The British Slum work was inaugurated in 1887, and Officers sent to Italy, Holland, Denmark, Zululand, and among the Kaffirs and Hottentots. The nextyear the Army extended to Norway, Argentine Kepublic, Finland and Belgium, and the next ten years saw work extended in succession to Uruguay, WestIndies, Java, Japan, British Guiana, Panama and Korea, and work commencedamong the Lepers. 

The growing confidence of the great of the earth was manifested by thehonors that were conferred upon General Booth from time to time. In 1898he opened the American Senate with prayer. In 1904 King Edward receivedhim at Buckingham Palace, the freedom of the City of London and the Cityof Kirkcaldy were conferred upon him, as well as the degree of D. C. L. ByOxford, during 1905. The Kings of Denmark, Norway, the Queen of Sweden, and the Emperor of Japan were among those who received him in privateaudience. 

On August 20, 1912, General William Booth laid down his sword. 

He lay in state in Congress Hall, London, where the number of visitors wholooked upon his remains ran into the hundreds of thousands. 

His son, William Bramwell Booth, the Chief of the Staff, by theappointment of the late General, succeeded to the office and came to theposition with a wealth of affection and confidence on the part of thepeople of the nations such as few men know. 

SALVATION ARMY WAR ACTIVITIES. 

77 Motor ambulances manned by Salvationists. 

87 Hotels for use of Soldiers and Sailors. 

107 Buildings in United States placed at disposal of Government for warrelief purposes. 

199 Huts at Soldiers' Camps used for religious and social gatherings andfor dispensing comfort to Soldiers and Sailors. 

300 Rest-rooms equipped with papers, magazines, books, etc. , in charge ofSalvation Army Officers. 

1507 Salvation Army officers devote their entire time to religious andsocial work among Soldiers and Sailors. 

15, 000 Beds in hotels close to railway stations and landing points atseaport cities for protection of Soldiers and Sailors going to and fromthe Front. 

80, 000 Salvation Army officers fighting with Allied Armies. 

100, 000 Parcels of food and clothing distributed among Soldiers andSailors. 

100, 000 Wounded Soldiers taken from battlefields in Salvation Armyambulances. 

300, 000 Soldiers and Sailors daily attend Salvation Army buildings. 

$2, 000, 000 Already spent in war activities. 

45 Chaplains serving under Government appointment. 

40 Camps, Forts and Navy Yards at which Salvation Army services areconducted or which are visited by Salvation Army officers. 

2184 War Widows assisted (legal and other aid, and visited). 

2404 Soldiers' wives cared for (including medical help). 

442 War children under our care. 

3378 Soldiers' remittances forwarded (without charge). 

$196, 081. 05 Amount remitted. 

600 Parcels supplied Prisoners of War. 

1300 Cables sent for Soldiers. 

275 Officers detailed to assist Soldiers' wives and relatives; numberassisted, 275. 

40 Military hospitals visited. 

360 Persons visiting hospitals. 

147 Boats met. 

324, 052 Men on board, 35, 845 Telegrams sent. 

24 Salvationists detailed for this work. 

20 Salvationists detailed for this work outside of New York City. 

SALVATION ARMY WORK IN UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

1218 Buildings in use at present. 

2953 Missing friends found. 

6125 Tons of ice distributed. 

12, 000 Officers and non-commissioned officers actively employed. 

11, 650 Accommodations in institutions. 

68, 000 Children cared for in Rescue Homes and Slum Settlements. 

22, 161 Women and girls cared for in Rescue Homes. 

30, 401 Tons of coal distributed. 

175, 764 Men cared for in Industrial Homes. 

342, 639 Poor families visited. 

399, 418 Outings given poor people. 

668, 250 Converted to Christian life. 

984, 426 Jobs found for unemployed poor. 

1, 535, 840 Hours spent in active service in slum districts. 

6, 900, 995 Poor people given temporary relief. 

40, 522, 990 Nights' shelter and beds given to needy poor. 

52, 674, 308 Meals supplied to needy poor. Constituency reached with appealfor Christian citizenship. 

132, 608, 087 Out-door meeting attendance. 

134, 412, 564 In-door meeting attendance. 

NATIONAL WAR BOARD. 

Commander Evangeline C. Booth, President. 

EAST. Peart, Col. William, Chairman. Reinhardsen, Col. Gustave S. , Sec'y and Treas. Damon, Col. Alexander M. , Parker, Col. Edward J. , Jenkins, Lt. -Col. Walter F. , Stanyon, Lt. -Col. Thomas, Welte, Brigadier Charles

WESTEstill, Commissioner Thos. , ChairmanGauntlett, Col. Sidney, Brewer, Lt. -Col. Arthur T. , Eynn, Lt. -Col. John T. , Dart, Brigadier Wm. J. , Sec'y. 

FRANCE. Barker, Lt. -Col. William S. , Director of War Work. 

As indicated in the above list, the National War Board functions in twodistinct territories--East and West--the duty of each being to administerall War Work in the respective territories. The closest supervision isgiven by each War Board over all expenditure of money and no scheme issanctioned until the judgment of the Board is carried concerning theusefulness of the project and the sound financial proposals associatedtherewith. After any plan is initiated, the Board is still responsible forthe supervision of the work, and for the Eastern department Colonel EdwardJ. Parker is the Board's representative in all such matters and Lieut-Colonel Arthur T. Brewer fills a similar office in the Western department. Each section of the National Board takes responsibility in connection withthe overseas work, under the presidency of COMMANDER EVANGELINE C. BOOTHfor the raising, equipping and sending of thoroughly suitable people inproper proportion. Joint councils are occasionally necessary, when it iscustomary for proper representatives of each section of the Board to meettogether. 

The National Board is greatly strengthened through the adding to itsspecial councils all of the Provincial Officers of the country.