With The Immortal Seventh Division | Page 5

transports got under way, and steamed up Channel for Dover.
There we 'stood off and on' until 9 p.m. on October 6, when picking up our pilot we
steamed out into the Down in the quiet of the autumn night.
The names of the officers who composed the mess of the 23rd Field Ambulance were:
Major Crawford (now Lieut.-Colonel), Major Brown, Captain Wright, Lieut.

McCutcheon, Lieut. Mackay, Lieut. Hart, Lieut. Priestly, Lieut. Wedd, Lieut. Beaumont,
Lieut. Jackson (quartermaster), Col. the Rev. W. Stevenson Jaffray, and the writer; on the
whole a very cheery, hard-working set of officers, whose work met with high
appreciation of Head-quarters, in due course.
Many conjectures were on foot as to our destination, but when we found the course was
north-east, we knew that France was out of the question, and Belgium loomed large in
our imagination.
The scene was an eerie one as the black hulls of the vessels moved quietly over the placid
sea, with a protective squadron of torpedo destroyers surrounding us. It was sufficiently
risky to give a piquance to the experience.
The Admiralty had laid mines from the Goodwin Sands to the Belgium coast, and it was
a remarkable feat of pilotage which took the whole fleet through this mine zone in safety
to its destination. The naval officer who acted as pilot to the Victorian, on which I was
aboard, informed me the next morning that it had been the most anxious night of his life,
and I can well understand it, for the responsibility upon a man, under such circumstances,
was a heavy one.
Coming on deck in the early hours of the following morning I saw the low-lying Belgium
coast bathed in sunlight; Zeebrugge lying a couple of miles to the east. It was with a very
thankful heart that I realized that the first risky stage of our movement towards the Front
was over.
In due course we warped in alongside of the massive Mole at Zeebrugge; and admired the
huge proportions of a quay, which I understood had been built by the Germans. Large as
it was, there was not sufficient room for all the fleet of transports, so half the Division
landed at Ostend and joined us later.
The landing scene was stirring, and full of interest. All sorts of troops were mixed
together in apparently inextricable confusion; Guardsmen, Highlanders, Linesmen,
Sappers, Gunners, Cavalry and the ubiquitous A.S.C. were moving about in the keen
delight of being on the soil that they had come to free from the oppressor; but the miracle
of military order and discipline soon evolved order out of chaos; and the whole column
moved off for its nine or ten mile trek to Bruges.
With elastic step and cheery voice the men swung along to the inspiring strains of
'Tipperary.' The road was typical of Belgium; the long avenue of poplar trees, flanked by
broad ditches, being the distinguishing feature of this and most Belgium roads (the centre
being composed of cobbles, with macadam tracks on either side). Every one felt keen,
and the horses, fresh from forty-eight hours' confinement in their very close quarters
between decks, enjoyed the freedom as much as the men.
On reaching Bruges, which was in total darkness, owing to the fear of enemy aeroplanes,
we received our instructions to proceed to an outlying suburb of the city; and presently
drew up in a field, bounded by houses of the humbler description. The early morning was
distinctly autumnal, and a ration of biscuit, bully beef and steaming hot tea was not to be

despised. Late though it was, many people were about, occupying themselves by gazing,
half in wonderment and half in admiration, at the first visit of khaki to their
neighbourhood.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] This brilliant officer was killed in action at the end of September, 1915.

THE TREK THROUGH BELGIUM
CHAPTER II
THE TREK THROUGH BELGIUM
My first experience of billeting was sufficient to prove the very arbitrary character of the
whole proceeding. Imagine some one hundred and fifty men, and twelve officers,
suddenly appearing in a small outlying street of the far-famed Belgian city, at the
untimely hour of 4 a.m., and all clamouring for a night's lodging. To begin with, it was
not an easy matter to arouse the slumbering people; and the billeting party had to wait
long before each door, ere slippered feet were heard along passages, and drowsy voices
inquired suspiciously as to our business; then appeared more or less clad figures, who
gazed anxiously at the cloaked men standing at the door (for the Germans lay at the back
of every mind). However, the talismanic charm of 'Englishmen' did wonders. It was 4.30
a.m. before I tumbled into an extremely comfortable bed, and had barely laid my head
upon the