 Out of the stormy channel into an English port, come the ships that are waging the battle of supply. Back from the battles waged over the many leagues of winter water, from the mines and torpedoes, from the rocky French coast, from the silent war waged constantly to keep equipment moving to the fronts. Back they come to the ports for refitting and repair. Trained squads of sea bees and of navy men swarm over them, welding in new plates, replacing damaged equipment. They send them out like new. Even the veterans, the old hands that have seen battle at a dozen beaches, and the LSTs come out of the dry docks, are loaded again and go out again to France. This one is carrying freight cars. On the far shore, the boughs of the ship open, and like an endless chain, the cars move on to fight their share of the war. The unsung war, the war behind the lines. Paris, freed of the heavy hand of the Gestapo, greets military police with a smile these days. The American MPs watch over the armed forces, but are there to aid civilians as well. In close cooperation with the famed Paris gendarmes, they iron out troubles for soldiers on leave. Both have fought for liberty. This load of GIs, eager to tour Paris, will get no further until their papers are thoroughly checked. To guard petrol for war, the police keep close tabs on all military transportation. Like cops in the USA, these boys help Parisians in distress across busy squares. Franco-American friendship is a tradition of 170 years. American citizen soldiers like these followed returns of their national election on many battle fronts. Months before, elaborate preparations had been made to deliver ballots to the front lines. It came from Louisiana on the go, and his ballot from New York. Millions of American ballots went to war so fighting men at home and overseas could help elect the leaders of their government. Voting is always secret even at the front, and ballots go into sealed boxes. Election returns were listened to by Americans everywhere. These boys were in France. His candidate evidently won. In a broad offensive on the western front from the British sector in Holland down to the French in the Vosges, six Allied armies are pushing packed power against German lines. In the center of the broad offensive, the American front is a long water line. Here at the Moselle River, the Third Army meets a flood. Dried channel yesterday, today the swollen river spills over the land to stall the wheels, but not the men marching toward Germany. Under enemy fire from the other shore, the soldiers work quickly to salvage their equipment and supplies. The advance troops pull out in flat-bottomed boats. The enemy has the range and this engineer corps fighting time and flood to build a bridge for the American advance. Now every second counts heavily. A cloud of smoke rolls out from ingenious machines on the shore to screen the bridge. Into the artificial cloud, the trucks rumble with supplies for troops already fighting on the far shore. Jeeps crossing the Moselle for the big drive. Ammunition move first over the one-way bridge. Trucks carry supplies for every soldier heading into battle, along with petrol and shells for every tank rumbling over the flood. But the foot soldiers carry the brunt of the battle in the tricky terrain between the Moselle and Germany. On the far shore, the trucks roll off the emergency bridge toward the firing line. Here in the north, the First and Ninth Armies push deeper into Germany from Aachen. Tanks and equipment are rolling all along the western front. To the soldiers of the First American Army under a constant gun barrage, foxholes are home. Tanks serve as artillery, cautiously covered by ground fire. Through the Hurtgen Forest, more troops push forward. Unarmed First Aid crews do their job wherever fighting men face grave danger. They save countless lives on every battlefield. Protected by cannon fire, the troops keep close to the ground converging on the city. Again, the Nazis' refusal to surrender brings ruin. On the open road, the men race without cover. In town, they dash from wall to wall, hunting windows to fight vicious fire from hidden enemy snipers. Every house is another fortress and every window is a pillbox. These soldiers serve as decoys to reveal enemy snipers for keen allied marksmen. Wounded soldiers drag themselves to this front-line medical station under blistering fire. A shell drops every few seconds. These prisoners raise the total to 200,000 for the First American Army since D-Day. The Army rolls on deeper inside Germany. In the south, the American Seventh Army presses toward Strasburg. The Third Army toward Metz. Storming through the Moselle Gap, the Third Army surrounds this Nazi arsenal town. Again, a gun duel signals a big attack at the crossroads to the Tsar. Taking nine forts hidden underground, the soldiers advance through sniper fire. Here, they push toward a German garrison varicated inside the city. To halt the Americans, Nazis shoot from hidden slits in every house. But the soldiers dig out the uniformed and civilian snipers left behind by the Nazis. Over roadblocks erected by the enemy in retreat, the soldiers climb. In a house-to-house search, they round up SS troops and folk-sturm fighters, the newest creation of Nazi military leaders. Me around Metz takes a thousand prisoners a day on the average until these officers and the garrison commander, General Heinrich Kittel, surrender. Here, the last Nazis leave the fortress city, they condemn to ruin. Before they fall back, the Nazis force bitter artillery duels in every city along the front, compelling step-by-step destruction of their own homeland. Careful Allied aiming, however, saves the church.