Part 2

The Ration Detail--a job which no one relishes. Each day the other fellow's artillery tries to lay down a fire which will keep these boys from getting back. They travel to where their supply company has dumped the food from mule carts--the point nearest front where creaking wheels may go. The man in the center is carrying a string of French loaves, the round black variety common before we got our own bakeries started.

The Headquarters Company of the Reserve Mallet taking its bath at Chavigny Farm. The tub is a tin-lined cigarette box used by the Y.M.C.A. Water is heated in the old farm fire-place.

"PREPARE FOR ACTION"

I ran into Johnny Redlegs A-sitting on his bus, And I asked him why the devil He dropped half his shells on us. He just smiles and puffs his corn-cob, As peaceful as a Persian, And, "Buddy," says he, "you can't blame me, You gotta blame dispersion."

I says to Johnny Redlegs, "If I didn't have nine lives Your barrage would have got me With those lousy seventy-fives." He grins and puffs his corn-cob, And then he winks, reflective, And, "Buddy," says he, "you can't blame me If you pass your damn objective."

I says to Johnny Redlegs (Just kidding him, you know), "The trouble with your popgun is She pops too gol-darned slow." Then Redlegs drops his corn-cob And spits on both his han's, And, "Buddy," says he, "you can kid with me And the whole damned Field Artilleree, But there'll be a dud where you used to be If you kid my swasont-cans!"

"Johnny Redlegs"--guardian of the "Soixante-quinze." (the famous French "75")

...and the doughboy who tries to keep just the right distance from the covering barrage fire.

Among the first sent across/They served with the French in '17

American and French field artillery gun crews camped together in a wood near Charsoney. The canvas overhead keeps the fire from being observed by aeroplanes at night.

The linesman at the front--

Same old job with just a couple percent more risk than usual

Using a shell-shocked tree for a telegraph pole.

St. Mihiel 1918

Dumb Beasts

RELIEF

z-z-z-z-z-z-Z-Z-Z-Z-e-e-e-e-E-E-------------b Boom! There's another! God, this pack is heavy. Glad I pinched the extra willy, Guess I'll need it. And the sweater, too, out there.

-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-Z-Z-Z-Z-E-E-E-EEEEEE- - b Boom! There's another! Jesse! that was a close one. Wonder if......good Christ! Where's Charlie? Got him clean. God curse those Jerries! I'll get even,--p'raps-- out there.

z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-Z-Z-Z-E-E-E-E-e-e----------b Boom! There's another! Over! Well, if one has my name on it Then the guv'ment pays ten thousand. What's the use? I couldn't spend it. Leastways not-- out there.

z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-Z-Z-Z-Z-e-e-e-e-e-E-E-E-E----b Boom! There's another. Where'd I put that plug of Climax? Oh, I s'pose somebody swiped it. Gee, I never thought that Charlie... Glad I ain't out on the wire. This damn trench is dark--ouch! Damn it, Wait a minute.... Hell, I'm coming, I can't run in this equipment. What the hell's the rush to get-- out there?

The Relief--

Coming up to the front lines through the communication trenches, which extend a kilometer or so. On these occasions little love is lost on "beautiful moonlight nights"

The roofs of Vaux after a few minutes of Yank barrage lifted--

In 1870 Grandpère was taken as a prisoner to Coblenz

Madam Framary who sewed on my buttons and who transformed miserable French army rations into marvelous dishes

Erasme, the youngest son who starts his three years of compulsory training in the fall 1919

The eldest son. After his three years of training he was called to war. He has never come back.

Soissons--1918