Letters from France | Page 2

down to the station. I was very much struck
by the great send-off given us by the women of the cottages we passed
who, despite the fact that they had seen thousands march out, all turned
out at that early hour, and from their doorsteps wished us a very sincere
and affecting God speed. At 7-0 we reach the station and the train,
uncertain from what port we sail, to what port we shall go, and almost
in entire ignorance of our destination, even the C.O. knows nothing and
our staff less.
But in three or four hours we reach our port of embarkation and go
straight from train to boat, and are soon out in the Channel. Before we
sail all the men put on lifebelts, in accordance with orders, much to the
amusement of two or three blasé Canadian Officers returning to the
Front, who, however, are soon unable to take any further interest in our
proceedings, and seem from their earnest studies of the sea to be trying
indelibly to impress upon their brains a distinct remembrance not of the
ship but of the Channel itself. As soon as we started we all went in to
the cabin and lunched, I, attempting to fill myself so full that the
pitching of the ship in a choppy sea shall not affect me. It was all of no
avail. I paid three shillings for my lunch, and discovered afterwards that
I had not bought it, only hired it for a short while. I was greatly relieved
when the voyage was over and we backed into our port of debarkation.
There we had to fall in about half a mile from the landing place, and
Staff Colonels and Captains completely lost their heads trying to get us
to form up without telling us where to do so, or in what formation. We
did not know what we were to expect or what we should do for the
night. I expected to sleep on the ground and to eat cold bully-beef--the
remains of the rations we were carrying. It had been impressed upon us
by all the officers whom we had seen, who had returned from the Front,
that directly we arrived abroad all comfort was gone, and that troops
were rushed about here and there undergoing frightful privations and
fatigues, but not a bit of it. We marched up about two miles to a rest
camp, and arrived very tired to find a beautiful dinner ready for us.

Tents (two officers to a tent), beds, spring mattresses, and as many
blankets as we wanted. There we received all sorts of orders and
supplies. A day's ration, another gas helmet (we already had one each),
war rations (an emergency ration), &c. The next day (Sunday) we
marched down to the station to entrain, marching off at 7-45. This was
the only hard day we have had so far. We had a tiring march to the
station, carrying equipment weighing about 60lbs.--an awful
weight--we then waited at the station, and a train came in with our
transport on it, who had come over separately by a different route, and
spent four or five hours in the train, and finally detrained at a very
pretty village, where we could distinctly hear the booming of the guns.
There we waited for some time before marching off, and were greeted
with the sound of loud cheers from a neighbouring field where the
Artists were playing the H.A.C. at rugger and were cheering their own
sides. Then we set out, led by a French guide, and marched about ten
miles to reach our present abode. The thing that struck me on the way
was the flatness of the country, and the roads, which were the typical
roads one always sees in the illustrated papers: long, straight and
slightly raised, with avenues of poplars along them all. The march was
awful. The weight in my pack almost dragged my shoulders off, and
the men felt it terribly. Finally, we arrived in the market place of the
village near which we are, and fell out on the grass immediately, only
too glad to get our packs off and rest, while the billeting officer led the
Company Commanders round and showed them where they were to be
billeted.
After an hour or so they returned and we marched off to our billets. We
are billeted in a sort of irregular ring round the village, with Battalion
Headquarters in a small chateau. We are in farms. Most farms take
anything from 50 to 100 men, and all the farms are similar. There is a
central square with a sort of depression in the centre, which is covered
with dirty straw and filthy water; all the rubbish is thrown into it, and