Lieutenant Winter was in command of the detachment, which numbered
about half a hundred.

"Mighty good name for the leader of this trip," Bart whispered
jokingly to Frank, as they stood drawn up in line awaiting the
command to start.

"It certainly is," agreed Frank, drawing his coat a little closer.
"This is about as bitter weather as I've ever stacked up against."

"Looks to me as if a snow storm were coming," murmured Billy.

"Attention!" came the sharp command. "Forward, march!"

The lines moved forward as one man, the lieutenant riding ahead on
horseback and two motor trucks loaded with supplies bringing up
the rear.

The road led at first along the bank of the river and was fairly
level. After two miles had been traversed the line of march
swerved sharply toward the right and the men began to climb.

The weather was biting cold, and a stinging-wind whipped their
cheeks and searched their clothing. But they were warmly clad and
the pace at which they marched kept them comfortable enough. Their
sturdy frames were inured to hardships, and they joked and laughed
as they went along.

Soon they had passed through the little suburban villages that
hung on the flank of Coblenz, and the way was interspersed with