even the Y. M. C. A. secretaries, who had been living with this
division intimately for months, knew that they were gone, and that a
new division had taken its place, until the next morning. Talk about
German efficiency--that phrase, "German efficiency," has become a
bugaboo to frighten the world. American efficiency is just as great,
if not greater.

I saw that division marching overland. It was a thrilling sight.
Coming on it suddenly, and looking down upon its marching columns from
the brow of a hill, and then riding past it in a Ford camionet all day
long with Irving Cobb, riding past its ammunition-wagons, past its
machine-gun battalion, past its great artillery company, past its
hundreds of infantrymen, past its trucks, past its clean-cut officers
astride their horses, past its supply-trains, past its flags and
banners, past its kitchen-wagons, seeing it stop to eat, seeing it
shoulder its rifles, seeing its ambulances and its Red Cross groups,
seeing its khaki-clad American boys wind through the valleys and up the
hills and over the bridges (the white stone bridge), through its
villages, many in which American soldiers had never been seen before;
welcomed by the people as the saviors of France, seeing its way strewn
with the flowers of spring by little children, and with the welcome and
the tears of French mothers and daughters clad in black, seeing it
march along the French streams from early morning until late at night,
this was a sight to stir the pride of any American to the point of
reverence.

But all day as we rode along that winding trail I thought of the song
that the soldiers are singing, "There's a Long, Long Trail Awinding to
the Land of Our Dreams," and when I looked into the faces of those
American boys I saw there the determination that the trail that they