CHAPTER VIII.

A REAL REST

                NEWS of the long hoped for relief came unexpectedly late in the afternoon of August 4. Members of the Battery were seen embracing each other in transports of joy at the idea of getting a night's sleep. Soon after supper the Battery was packed, harnessed and hitched, with its back turned to the line of burning villages beyond the Vesle, impatiently awaiting the word to move. This was a trying time, because now that we were relieved, our lives had taken on a new value, and Boche 77's kept dropping in the fields not far away. We waited there without moving until 2.30 A. M. Meanwhile, a fine rain had set in, chilling men and horses. Once on our way we felt more secure, as every turn in the wheels brought us nearer safety. Even then we were treated to a peculiar surprise. We had traveled several kilometers and felt sure we were out of range, but our road must have led parallel to the front, for during a halt near a crossroad, several 77's whizzed towards us and crashed in the meadow on our right. It sent a nervous chill down our backs (along with the rain which by now had penetrated the newest slickers.)

                If some person,—shaved, brushed and white spatted, his opinions of war based on the smug recruiting sergeants of Boston Common—could have been suddenly lifted from Tremont Street and set daintily down in the main street of Fere-en-Tardenois on that morning, he would have wept as our Bat­

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