but the shells won out in the end. Three cooks were gassed and evacuated at this time.

                It would seem the Germans had done enough to us for one day, but not at all. Misfortunes never come alone, and, of course, it began to rain about 4.30 P. M. Towards dusk a short, savage bombardment killed one of our water-cart horses and wounded the other. Worst of all it seriously wounded Wood, their driver. Also a medical attendant of another outfit was killed in the trench leading into our kitchen.

                For the next three days, the Boche never forgot where we were, and never let us forget that he knew. The shell-hole quarters were deepened and improved, shelter-trenches were dug near the guns, and the losses replaced from the echelon. Almost every night caissons or trucks replenished the ammunition piles beside the road, and every available man was kept at work lugging the shells up the hill. At best it was a heartbreaking climb and our Teutonic friends did their best to make it a dangerous one.

                On Wednesday, October 23 at 6.15 in the morning, after a night rendered sleepless by Boche harassing fire, the Battery started to fire its share of the artillery preparation against the Belleu Bois, Bois de la Reine, and Bois D'Ormont. During the attack, the Battery fired 1180 rounds in front of the advancing infantry without drawing any retaliation—at least not at that time. In the late afternoon we fired the defensive barrage repeatedly. Our doughboys had gained all objectives, as was their habit, but with severe losses. The Boche was perhaps dazed by the suddenness of the American onslaught, but he recov­

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