It was on a cool, starlit evening, early in September, 1916, that I first met Drew of Massachusetts, and actually
began my adventures as a prospective member of the Escadrille Américaine. We had sailed from New York
by the same boat, had made our applications for enlistment in the Foreign Legion on the same day, without
being aware of each other's existence; and in Paris, while waiting for our papers, we had gone, every evening,
for dinner, to the same large and gloomy-looking restaurant in the neighborhood of the Seine....