Next day moved to Chatenois two kilometers away where headquarters were. No news of probable destination. Three nights later another move, this time to Germiny on the road to Toul, or rather just off it. Dirty little place, but got a fair billet. Two nights here, then all night on the road, arrived at Bicqueley in early morning and camped by roadside thirty-six hours (B. is ten kilometers south of Toul). Later on to Bruley. Rotten billets. The place is full of French and everything is crowded. Rain and mud.
Probably the attack will be at St. Mihiel.
Saw a ghastly notice posted in the Y. M. C. A. to the effect that if any of our men were taken prisoner and questioned to say nothing; that torture would undoubtedly be used, and that such men would never be allowed to return alive, no matter what they said. It ended by saying let them meet Eternity with the knowledge they had done their duty. It gave me a thrill as I read it.
At most of our stops I have been fortunate in finding French families where I could get something to eat.
It is St. Mihiel. We move to Ansauville. The attack commences--I forget the date. In fact, one seldom knows it. We are in advance of the heavies, they firing over our heads. The show opens at one thirty a. m. It is drizzling. The fire is very intense, but nothing like Souain.
By four p.m. the guns ease off and the men go over. Met Normand who was in charge of Vittel, also a Major Finck, a fine man. They asked me to billet with them. The whole place is shot to pieces and there is scarcely any shelter to be found. We three, and sometimes a fourth casual, sleep in a kitchen. It is about the only place that has half a roof.
Later next day Normand and I pushed north with the advancing troops. The roads were simply jammed, but we followed up, finally getting into Essie. Every one is wild with enthusiasm, for the Boche is simply on the run. Groups of German prisoners are constantly passing us on the road down. Many have their knapsacks all packed, so must have been expecting us. I counted over eleven hundred going through the fields. They certainly make a most cheering sight.
We pass through several small towns, nothing but a mass of rubble now. The balloons are all moving forward.