animals. They were shaggy and unkempt. Some seemed
overburdened by the cares of life. Others endeavored to
express through vivacious gestures a desire to get at the
greener officers and men who hitherto had been mounted
only in the tables of organization.
Often, while struggling with the curious replacements we received in France, did we look back wistfully to these our first and best animals.
From this moment Paper Work clutched at Department B officers and stable sergeants.
The horses arrived just in time for our first target practice, which was scheduled for December 12th. Each of four batteries had the pleasure of harnessing, with make-shift harness, a team of the new, untried animals to a piece and drawing it from the park to the range. That day, everyone will recall, was the first bitter one of an uncommonly severe winter. It distilled in those horses a vaunting ambition. It nearly, in consequence, upset one carriage, and it delayed the rest because of cold hands and stiff equipment.
Cannoneers and spare drivers stood in line along Fourth Avenue, between Fifteenth and Seventeenth Streets. The scarlet battery guidons fluttered before a frozen wind. Yet, as the first carriage appeared at the top of the grade, there was a satisfied warmth in all our hearts. At least a share of all the trappings was ours. We could grin and shout "Finis" to that inefficient monster, Simulation.
The carriages rumbled down the slope, swaying from side to side. The drivers didn't look happy. More often than not the near horses were out of hand. Some animals pulled; others ambled, enjoying the prospect. But the carriages did advance. It was these city-bred men, abruptly informed that they were artillery drivers, who controlled untrained stock to that extent.
They got past the difficult turn into Seventeenth Street.
