CHAPTER V
THE ATLANTIC
Our military exercises had built every man of us up to such a degree of physical perfection that we felt fit for any test of endurance, and the absence of worry, the companionship of so many fine chums, the good wholesome food and invigorating air had worked wonders in us. We were no longer the awkward squad that had slouched off the train into Valcartier.
Our officers told us we were a disgrace to the service, but swiftly the change was taking place. We could walk our ten or fifteen miles in regulation time, and the standard of our shooting was exceptionally high.
At first only twenty thousand men were to go, but as seventy-five thousand had responded to the call and the eagerness of the boys to go had caused them to redouble their efforts to become efficient, the first expeditionary force was increased to thirty-three thousand men.
Toward the end of September we were inspected for the last time by his Royal Highness, the Duke of Connaught, and in the afternoon we were ordered to get our kits packed and stuff ready, as we were leaving for England. Excitement ran high and every man was in his place next morning at ten o'clock. It was a rainy Sunday morning, but that did not dampen our spirits.
"Battalions will move off by the right of companies, No. 1 leading," came the order; the senior officer commanding shouted, "Company, tshun; form fours; right; left wheel; quick march." We were off for England.
After traveling the eighteen miles from camp to Quebec we boarded the big steamer that was to bear us to England. My battalion was assigned to the _Lapland_, the largest of the fleet transports. In her hold thousands of sacks of flour were stacked, part of Canada's gift to the motherland immediately on the outbreak of the war. Some of us did not appreciate the gift as we might, because it was part of our duty to load it from the dock to the hold.
I had a pardonable thrill of pride as I stood on the dock and watched our fellows file aboard and I could not help asking myself--"Could these bronzed, cleanly-built, athletic men be the same who tramped wearily into camp one short month ago?" Such was the result of our officers' untiring work and the patient efforts of the regular sergeants who first took us in hand, and last, but not least, the keenness of the men themselves to become efficient and disciplined soldiers.
The whole fleet sailed from Quebec to Gaspé Bay, where we were picked up by our convoy. The arrival of the battleships and cruisers was greeted with rousing cheers, which were answered in kind by the men of the fighting ships. It was the most impressive sight I have ever witnessed; up to that time nothing had so majestically expressed the sentiment of the Overseas Dominions hastening to the help of the mother country.
By this time the seriousness of the conflict began to dawn upon the country. The magnificent exploits of French's glorious little force had fired every one of us, and every time the band played "Tipperary," the wildest enthusiasm prevailed.
It was on one of the first nights aboard that the first shadow of the war fell upon me. A sort of gloomy mist rose before my eyes and clouded my brain, and I felt morally certain that something had happened to Tom, my twin brother, and sorrowfully I have to tell that he died in the battle of the Marne. I did not learn the particulars until I reached England. He died as he would have wished to die, fighting gloriously for the Empire.
Very few of the battalions had bands with them, but the Sixth of Winnipeg, that embarked with us, had a splendid band, and they were most generous in supplying us with musical treats all the way across.
I shall never forget the scene at these concerts, especially at night--the moon shining on the sea, calm almost as a lake, the men lounging in various attitudes of ease, some leaning over the taffrail, others in chairs, and all smoking and enjoying the strains to their hearts' content.
The only disagreeable feature of the voyage was the deadly regularity with which we were fed upon stew; our feelings in this regard were put into rhyme by one of the grim humorists of the battalion:
Our daily bread is stew, That's all the cook can brew, For kind heaven's sake, please give us some cake Or anything else that's new.
One night at dinner, when the waiter handed him his stew, he stood up, and, calling for silence, announced that he had a few remarks to offer for the benefit of the misguided souls who entertained the notion that we were not properly fed. There was an angry clatter of knives on the plates of the stew, as the men were fighting mad with the monotony of the grub, but finally the speaker got a semblance of order and he commenced:
"Soldiers of the King, I believe it is duly right and fair to the cook and the commissariat that the idea which has seemed to be finding lodgment in the minds of some of us that we are not properly looked after, as far as our stomachs are concerned, should be banished at once, and I feel sure it will be when I point out to you in a few words how erroneous that thought is.
"Have you ever considered what a load of anxiety is lifted from our minds as to what we are going to have for breakfast, for dinner, for supper? Have you ever thought about that?"
"You're damned right, we have," from fifty throats at once.
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[Illustration: The Bull-dog behind the flag has licked all comers in Western Canada. The men are Canadian veterans, who, with bull-dog persistency, "held the line" in Flanders Author on extreme right.]
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"Be patient, please, for just a moment. Have you ever thought that we are saved absolutely every petty worry as to whether the roast beef will be tough, the chops old and unpalatable, the fish mushy, or the pudding not properly seasoned? Not a particle of troublesome speculation about any of these things."
"For God's sake, let them trouble us all they want," from the audience. He continued:
"We take our places at the table calm and serene in the perfect confidence that there is not the least doubt as to what we are going to eat, and filled full of adoration in the sacredness of our food, for do we not know that it is like unto the holiest man that ever trod this old earth of ours--the same, yesterday, today and forever."
A roar of approval greeted the speech and the somewhat blasphemous reference, but from that time on we took the humorous view of the situation, thereby saving ourselves a lot of misery.
One night at dinner, when our usual stew-portions were served, one of the fellows left the table for a few minutes, and while he was gone we switched his soup, substituting water, and hastily, but thoroughly, scraped every scrap of meat off the bone. He came back, tasted of his soup, then poured it over the table. He picked up his soup bone, looked for the meat, and sent the bone flying down the cabin. Unluckily it struck an officer and he was promptly bundled into the clink (guardhouse). He was an Irishman, and on his trial the following morning he made a thoroughly characteristic defense.
"Sor, to tell yez the thruth, I just happened to think av the athrocities av them damned Germans on the helpless wimen and childher, an' I thought how would I feel if those near an' dear to me were threated in that way, an' on the impulse av the moment, without thinkin', or lookin', I flung the bone, imaginin' I was right in the middle av the fightin'."
It didn't save him, but it cut off some days from his stay in the clink.
On more than one occasion our thirst for revenge on the stew was gratified by seeing it heaved all over the floor by a sudden roll of the boat in rough weather.
Our chief form of entertainment while aboard ship, in addition to the band concerts, was the vaudeville shows that were given. Among our cosmopolitan crowd much fine talent was discovered--songs, readings, exhibitions of juggling, boxing competitions, etc.--served to while away the monotony of the voyage and make life livable during the crossing.
Church services were held regularly every Sunday; the two denominations represented were Church of England (Episcopal) and Roman Catholic. Mass was held at eight-thirty and the Protestant minister commenced his service at ten-thirty, at which were assembled all the balance of the battalion. Although my attendance was compulsory, these services were deeply impressive and will remain in my memory as long as I live. The majestic ship ploughing through the water and the swish of the spray mingling with the men's voices as we sang the hymns we learned in childhood made a lasting impression on all of us, and I am sure that the emotion of those moments has stayed with every man throughout our campaign in France and since.