Behind the Wheel of a War Ambulance #225153

Here's to the heart that beats for me, True as the stars above, Here's to the day when mine She'll be, Here's to the girl I love. As to the pages which follow, may it be offered m excuse for their egocentricity that they are in the nature of a journal based on personal experiences. And in apology for their crudity may it be advanced that they were written under abnormal and often uncomfortable conditions, sometimes humped up in an ambulance, wrapped in a blessé blanket, while outside the snow came down, sometimes in a dugout as the shells whis tled overhead, sometimes In a flea-bag when it was necessary to lay down the pen frequently and blow on numbed fingers or, mayhap, at night, in a wind-swept barn, by the light of a guttering candle.