They fall in in two ranks. They tell off from the right in fours.
"Move to the right in fours. Quick March," comes the order. The
bugles strike up. The men swing into column formation, heads erect
and picking up the step. To the song of the bugles they chant words as
they march. "We've got four years to do this job. We've got four years
to do this job."

That is the spirit of America. Her soldiers give her four years, but
to judge from the scale of her preparations she might be planning for
thirty.

America is out to win. I write this opening sentence in Paris where I
am temporarily absent from my battery, that I may record the story of
America's efforts in France. My purpose is to prove with facts that
America is in the war to her last dollar, her last man, and for just
as long as Germany remains unrepentant. Her strength is unexpended,
her spirit is un-war-weary. She has a greater efficient man-power
for her population than any nation that has yet entered the arena
of hostilities. Her resources are continental rather than national;
it is as though a new and undivided Europe had sprung to arms in
moral horror against Germany. She has this to add fierceness to her
soul--the reproach that she came in too late. That reproach is being
wiped out rapidly by the scarlet of self-imposed sacrifice. She did
come in late--for that very reason she will be the last of Germany's
adversaries to withdraw.

She did not want to come in at all. Many of her hundred million
population emigrated to her shores out of hatred of militarism and to
escape from just such a hell as is now raging in Europe. At first it
seemed a far cry from Flanders to San Francisco. Philanthropy could