When we returned to Devens, we found events moving rapidly. We filled out innumerable papers, signed great batches of irrelevant cards, and were finally marched away for our final physical exam.

                This took place in a large barrack whose interior was divided into a myriad of twisting corridors and lanes. In a state of nature, we pattered through this labyrinth, being pounced upon every few moments by a semi-hostile Minotaur, disguised as a medical officer who, after examining his catch for whatever disease or deformity he thought fit, gave minute directions for finding the next Minotaur, and waited patiently for his next prey. This process was repeated until we had all been captured and examined at least a dozen times; each was then given a sort of certificate saying that the bearer had braved the horrors of the labyrinth and came forth unscathed.

                On "J Day" at "H" hour, in other words, Thursday, April 29, at 7.30 A. M., the Battery rushed eagerly toward its objective, the tiny barrack where the discharges were to be given out. There was an air of suppressed excitement along the column, for this was our last day in the army. Another hour or at most two hours, would see us free men. The only diversion occurred while passing a recruiting office where two would-be comedians rushed toward the building, loudly expressing their intention of reenlisting. This attempt at humor was greeted in sombre silence, for the Battery felt that this was no subject for idle jest.

                We reached our destination early and learned with placid resignation that two outfits who had not

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