May 30th 1918.

Chanchy, France. After a
long march during which
I suffered with blistered feet
we arrived here & are
billeted in French barns &
houses. At about 10 P.M. on
this night German machines
were directly overhead. I
could see them dimly against
the dark background of the
sky, but the hum of their
motors was plainly discern-
able. One bomb shook my
billet as though it had
been a leaf & I quite
expected a shower of
bricks & plaster down
my head.

It was plain Hell again
tonight & the poor French
people in whose barn I
am billeted were so
frightened that they went
down cellar & remained
there all during the
raid. Overhead I could
hear the hum of machine
guns so I knew a battle
was on up in the clouds.
The Allies sent up many
star shells & fired on the
Germans with anti air-
craft guns. The bursting
shrapnel overhead was a
wonderful sight but I
commenced to think of
other things when a shell
passed thru the upper
branches of the tree under
which I was standing.
Abbeyville, the next
town, was the German