Page:History of the 305th field artillery (IA historyof305thfi01camp).pdf/335

Rh had gone in December, and there was an uncomfortable feeling that the dread disease was always with us. The latter part of January men commenced to report sick by the scorc.

One day thirty would be evacuated. Another we would say good-by to forty. The evacuations worked up to fifty or more, and we knew each day that some of the men that climbcd, feverish and ill, into the ambulance, would not comc back.

In this emergericy, Major Miller worked day and night. Sporadic cases of typhoid complicated his labor. His suc- ccss, however, permitted the regiment to leave for the cmbarkation center on February 9th.

The bitter cold, the snow covering the ground, the pros- pect of cattle cars, didn't effect the joy the men took in this move towards home.

The train was composed of ancient cars. It crawled. A journey that one might take in a regular train in eight or nine hours consumed for us, cramped, cold, and uncom- fortable, about sixty hours. We recalled the days before the armistice when we had been of more value to people generally; when we had been rushed long distances into action at express rate specd.

And that trip will be eternally colored in our minds by Lieutenant Arthur Robinson's death. Alter accepting all the chances of the front with a cheerful and inspiring indifference which had won for him the Distinguished Service Cross, Robinson was accidentally killed on the night of February 10th at the little station of Chatillon- sur-Cher. Ile had stepped from our train which was standing on a siding. The fastest train on the road--an American special--torc by at a terrific rate of speed strik- ing the open door of a compartment. Robinson was struck by this door. He was buricd with full military honors in the American cemetery at Angers.

It was not like a death in action. Everyone, officers