We passed many marching men and many lumbering supply trains which were going our way, and we met many motor ambulances and many ammunition trucks which were coming back.

Always the ambulances were full and the ammunition wagons were empty.

I judge an expert in these things might by the fullness of the one and the emptiness of the other gauge the emphasis with which the fight ahead went on.

The drivers of the trucks nearly all wore captured French caps and French uniform coats, which adornment the marching men invariably regarded as a quaint jest to be laughed at and cheered for.
We stopped at our appointed place, which was on the top of a ridge where a general of a corps had his headquarters.

From here one had a view--a fair view and, roughly, a fan-shaped view--of certain highly important artillery operations.