London was the Headquarters of a German lie factory and all kinds of yarns were circulated there about us. For instance, it was told about the Princess Pats that when they went to Flanders they failed to hold their trenches and had to be brought back to London and hidden away "somewhere" to cool their nerves. This was a shameless lie about one of the grandest corps ever raised for the British army, a corps that in holding the "warm corners" in the British line in six months had casualties of over 2,700 men, or about three times its effective strength. The deeds of this gallant corps at Ypres and St. Eloi will live forever in song and story, and the names of Lt. Colonel Farquhar and other gallant leaders will not be forgotten in the future annals of the British Army.
The people of Salisbury were sorry to see us leave for we had spent much money in the town.
The day before we marched out I had visited the city to pay up our bills, see about the storage of baggage and kits, and pay a visit before leaving to the ruins of old Sarum.
Contemplation of these stupendous ruins of a great people recall the fact that it was the Huns that destroyed the civilization of Greece and Rome. Always when the Hun absorbs sufficient civilization from his neighbor to make him efficient in the art of war he becomes seized with a military mania, the madness of Thor, and he seeks to destroy the civilized efforts of ages. Replacing nothing he thus plunges the world into darkness and barbarism. He destroyed the Graeco-Roman civilization and the world reverted to utter darkness for four centuries. Then Charlemagne came and there was a renaissance of civilization and law, and literature. Education and the arts again flourished, but after him came again the conquering Hun and then followed another long era of darkness and barbarism.
I rode out in front of the battalion and could just distinguish the dark outlines of two companies. The other two were getting ready and would march two hours later with Major Marshall in command.
With me was the Quartermaster, Captain Duguid, the Adjutant, Captain Darling, the Transport Officer, Captain Jago, and most of the train. We had a little difficulty in getting the men moving. I asked the transport officer the number of vehicles and animals and he told me he had eleven waggons. I rode to the cross roads, halted the regiment and ordered the transport to lead, counting them.
When I ordered the regiment to march, Captain McGregor's hoarse command "Form fours! right! left wheel! Quick March!" from the darkness, set the column in motion.
I took a final look at Lark Hill Camp and Salisbury Plains. The lights here and there on the Downs showed a glimmer of life. We had spent some happy days in the Lark Hill huts, the happiest we had spent in England.
I carried an electric torch in my hand and led the way. There was a slight frost that made the muddy road better for marching. The adjutant rode ahead to look after the transport, and Sergeant-Major Grant strode at my saddle bow. My horse kept dancing all the way on his hind legs, as if he too was glad to leave and anxious to be over in France. Soon in the distance ahead gleamed the lights of Amesbury, and after a while tall firs closed on either side of the road as we passed the gates of the Manor House of Amesbury.
These gates were built over a hundred years ago and were designed by a celebrated architect Inigo Jones.