Their faces got longer and longer as the list proceeded, and it was a very meek detachment who turned to their dinners on the quay-side. And that was the beginning and end of any trouble with those good lads until the day when they, or the poor remnant who pulled through, crowded round to sing "Auld lang syne" and give me a farewell cheer. Fine work they did, and always as cheery and lovable as any unit in the Force.
Disembarkation was carried on with the same admirable efficiency which had characterised embarkation. A large number of British Staff officers had, I believe, crossed to France immediately upon mobilisation. There, in collaboration with French colleagues, every possible arrangement was made for the reception of the Force.
Rest camps were pitched or billets were allotted, branches of the Army Post Office were established, a field cashier was installed at the Banque de France and imprests in French notes for the men's pay could be obtained on demand.
Of course everybody had seized the few hours' holiday on board ship to write more or less lengthy letters home, hoping, in their innocence, that the ship's officers would post them on returning to England.
Alas! before ever the ship was berthed, an all-powerful bogy swarmed up the companion way and greedily snatched away the ship's correspondence. Calling for a brush and a barrel of black fluid, he gleefully set to work upon the letters and postcards. When he had finished with them (and it took him a good couple of hours on our ship) they looked like the slips of paper you use in the parlour round-game where the first player writes a line and leaves the next to continue the sentence.
We had all given the most vivid description of our adventures, filling page after page. When the precious documents ultimately reached their destination, our fond parents, or best girls, must have been gratified to find that their four-page letter had dwindled down to:
"MY DEAR FATHER,—
(Four pages of brush and fluid work.)
"Well, I think I have told you all the news now. My love to the Mater and, cheer-oh, we shall soon be home again.
"Your affect. son,
"——"