The men
had not been so fortunate as to be stationed at a town where there was a
Salvation Army hut and it had been over four months since they had tasted
anything like cake or pie. Would the Salvation Army lassies be so good as
to let them have a few doughnuts before they moved that night? If so the
chaplain would call for them at five o'clock.
The lassies worked with all their might and fried thirty-five hundred
doughnuts. But something happened to the ambulance that was to take them
to the boys, and over an hour was lost in repairs. Back at the camp the
boys had given up all hope. They were to march at eight o'clock and
nothing had been heard of the doughnuts. Suddenly the truck dashed into
view, but the boys eyed it glumly, thinking it was likely empty after all
this time. However, the chaplain held up both hands full of golden brown
beauties, and with a wild shout of joy the men sprang to "attention" as
the ambulance drew up, and more soldiers crowded around. The villagers
rushed to their doors to see what could be happening now to those crazy
American soldiers.
When the chaplain stood up in the car flinging doughnuts to them and
shouting that there were thousands, enough for everybody, the enthusiasm
of the soldiers knew no bounds.
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