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toast, butter, and confiture.  We were too far from a bakery to get croissants, and we drank from bowls instead of cups.

Lunch and dinner were more formal.  We gathered in the dining room and each stood behind his chair until the commander, Lieutenant Denis, came in.  He always entered exactly at the scheduled hour.  We saluted, he returned the salute, and we all sat down.  They the meal became quite sociable.  I was told that the cook of our officers' mess had been the chef at a French hotel in London.  Whether that was true or not, the food at the Ferme d'Alger was the best I ever got at any army post.  (I still shudder at the memory of the junior staff officers' mess at the headquarters of General Bullard's Third Corps, where I later spent a week in August).Carafes of red and white wine were placed along the table.  I noticed that several of the French officers diluted their wine with water.

At that time the city of Reims, about 18 miles away, made a dent in the German lines.  The Germans had half encircled it.  They had captured the forts that had defended it on the north, and had the city under intermittent shell fire.  It seemed likely that the next German push might capture Reims and the millions of bottles of champagne that were store there.  The French could not spare railroad cars to move the wine out.  So champagne could be bought at bargain prices in Reims.  Our mess truck brought out a load from time to time, and Veuve Clicquot champagne, then a noted brand, sold in our mess at one franc, twenty cents, per bottle.  I sampled enough of it to decide that I preferred still wines.  I still do.

The office of squadron 40 kept a record of all my flights.  It was given to me when I left, and I still have it.  It has only fourteen entries, beginning April 11 and ending May 20.  My longest flight there lasted only two hours and fifteen minutes. Since I was being paid about #190 per month, your computer will tell you that the hourly rate, for time spent in the air, was generous.  And I do not think that the French observers worked on a heavier schedule than we did.  They took all the photographic missions, which were most dangerous.  They took what I thought were excessive precautions for our safety.  It was just that life on a quiet sector was easy.  When the German push did come, Escadrille Salmson Quarante was practically wiped out.