The battle roar would die before a threatening silence.
We never learned. We always hoped until the last minute that the flames would burn themselves out. But always the small smoke ball with its red center would grow, and spring into a black fan with a flame fringe, sweeping before the wind which always blew in that place.
Then the colonel, or the brigade commander, if he was there, would call for trucks and men until the greater part of the brigade and the ammunition train was on the range, starting counter fires, or with picks and shovels clearing ground before the flames.
It usually meant an afternoon's hot work at the expense of specialist instruction. That had about run its course anyway. The days had slipped into weeks, and towards the end of June we knew we were as nearly ready as Souge would make us. Our departure waited only on transportation We speculated as to where we would go. Our infantry had trained with the British in Flanders. For a long time we thought we would fight there.
Tours wanted to know which regiment would volunteer to hold itself ready to move at a moment's notice. The 305th offered itself. We entered a new age of packing. We had more equipment, but we also had more experience, and we got ready with little of the neurasthenic hurry of Upton.
Here at the last, our carefully studied organization was shattered. Other artillery brigades were coming to France, and they would have to be instructed. Under orders from the Chief of Artillery the Souge instructors chose from the brigade a certain number of officers wilo, they considered, had shown aptitude. They would either remain behind now, or be called on later to teach artillery.
We felt our regiment had been unduly complimented. Captains Reed, Delanoy, and Ravenel were to leave us at once, Lieutenants Camp, Church, and Fenn might be called from their organizations at any time.
