Here are some of the men who stopped the German in his tracks at Chateau-Thierry and held him like iron for thirty-six terrible days, who smashed his right flank at Soissons (Swa’ son’), drove him out of St. Mihiel, beat him from his famous trenches in Champagne, and finally saved the world in the murderous Meuse Argonne (mus ar’ gon’) forest, hacking their way with machetes (ma-cha’ta.) through dense undergrowth, in rain and mud, without fire, often without food, but ever going forward, grim and determined, resolved to make the world safe for democracy, safe for the loved ones at home. Now they are home again, among those loved ones, the gloomy days in France a fading dream. In happy reunion they stand, proud fathers of babes born during the war on the left, the American doughboy, the finest type of fighting man the world has ever seen to the right, the gallant officer who led him and who shared his perils, hardships and triumphs. By them stand the wives who bravely, yet in fear and trembling, sent them forth. In the arms of the soldiers are cradled the babes they saved from the tyranny of Germany. The pleasure the men feel in being once again in their home town, among friends and kindred, is reflected in their faces. Through many weary months they have looked forward to this hour. At last it has come. Their duty done, they are Frenche to gather up the scattered threads of life and weave them into a happy future, untroubled by thought of war.