[Page] me against possible rain. The woods were full of similar ⟨holes⟩ occupied by others. The horses and mules of our supply Detachment were tied up to trees nearby. I went to sleep as usual as darkness came. I had slept for a few hours when shell after shell burst I was awakened by a terrible din. No mistaking, the Germans were putting over on us a fearful barrage. Shell after shell burst about us. The continuous roar amid the loud bursts nearby told that the bombardment was going on all along the line. In the darkness one could not tell how near the a shell crashed. Judging by quaking earth and deafening report, it seemed as though many of them struck just outside of my foxhole. We could hear the whistle and whine of those that went over us. To describe one's feelings fully at this such a time is impossible. I felt entirely helpless and could only trust in the Supreme and pray "O Lord God, be with us." Judging by the unceasing bursting of shells it seemed impossible for anyone to live {thru} it until daybreak. The night seemed everlasting. ⟨This was the heaviest barrage ever put over by the Germans.⟩
Saved by a mule Amidst the uproar, I heard heavy tramping of feet and the rattling of a light chain. A horse must be loose. What of it? But the sound came so close that I feared he might step into my[Page]bed and on me. I crawled out of my hole and in the flashes I saw one of our good gray mules walking around bewildered, wondering what it was all about. I walked over to him, and talked to him and tied him to a nearby sapling. The moments of darkness between flashes were terrifying. I walked over to my nearest neighbors, a squad from Co. M, who had made quite an elaborate dug out, to see how they were faring. They were all awake and tense as I was. Finding them safe made me feel a little easier and I went back to my foxhole. Whether I slept a little, I do not know, but soon dawn came. I looked up to my shelter tent which I had stretched over my hole, and saw a hole {thru} it just above my head. That hole had not been there the night before. I began to investigate and to my surprise, I found a hole {thru} a part of my blankets and in the ground. I dug a little and found a piece of a high explosive shell, perfectly fresh, about the size of my thumb. This must have arrived while I was out tying up the mule. Thanks to the mule - or what!
Marne Defensive. The morning of July 15th found the last great German offensive in full swing. Our men were in the trenches awaiting the onslaught. Directly in front[Page]of us, the enemy did not success in coming through to the reserve line which we held, but down the Surmelin valley to the right of Coude we could see them trying to cross the valley to pierce the line held by the 109th Infantry. ⟨{Altho} they had crossed the Marne in places and had carried the first and second lines held by the French,⟩ the Germans did not break through. We found out later in the day that our two Companies B and C who had been sandwiched between French units, along the Marne (front line) were nearly annihilated when the French withdrew without notifying our men. Companies B and C did noble work in preventing the enemy from crossing the river in front of them, but to their dismay they soon found themselves surrounded by Germans who had crossed at points from which the French had retreated. Our allies' custom during an attack was to abandon the front lines and depend on a counter-attack to recover the lost ground. This worked out badly for our men who knew no retreat. Most of the ⟨men⟩ ⟨of the⟩ two companies were killed, wounded or captured. After the terrible barrage of shells during the night I expected to find few alive of our men. The ground was dotted with shell holes, but our casualties were surprisingly few. One large shell