On June 7th, after many false rumours and one lot of cancelled orders, the cadre at last left Douai. For the past month the weather had been very hot and dry, and it was a broiling morning when the Battalion vehicles and stores were entrained. The officers, with the loose baggage, occupied one of the well-known cattle trucks, which was made quite comfortable with a table, some forms and chairs; the men occupied third-class compartments. Early in the afternoon the train started. On the way to Arras a glimpse was obtained of the old camping ground at Feuchy. Then, circling round the ruins of Lens and passing Bethune and Hazebrouck, the cadre arrived at a siding near Dunkerque, just before dusk. The night was spent at what was known as the “dirty” camp—the blankets provided certainly deserved the name. The next morning the Battalion moved to No. 3 Camp where it remained for nine days.
No. 3 Camp was the centre through which passed all men and cadres on their way for demobilisation by the Dunkerque route. It was managed entirely by the 13th Battalion Duke of Wellington’s Regt., so the cadre found itself in the midst of friends. Officers’ and Sergeants’ Messes were thrown open; everything that was wanted was immediately forthcoming, if available. Two very pleasant officers’ reunion dinners were held in Dunkerque, and the Officers’ Mess of the 13th Batt. Duke of Wellington’s Regt. held a special guest night for the officers of the 147th Infantry Brigade. Altogether, the tedium of the stay on the coast was very much relieved. Strange to say, No. 3 Camp was pitched on the exact site which the Battalion had occupied in July, 1917. But how changed was the country! Then the Battalion had seen nothing but a flat grass patch and a waste of sand hills, on which to pitch its tents. Now the whole area was covered by immense camps, mostly of huts, which would accommodate many thousands of men. The time near Dunkerque passed uneventfully. The cadre remained there rather longer than was usual, partly as a result of a violent wind storm which delayed sailings for two or three days.
On June 16th the cadre sailed. The morning was spent in loading the vehicles on to the cargo vessel—S.S. “Clutha”—which was to carry them to Southampton. Among the loading party were several transport men who had assisted in a similar operation at Southampton, more than four years before, when the Battalion sailed for France. In the afternoon the cadre embarked on S.S. “St. George,” and, about 3-0 p.m., the vessel moved away from the quay. Among her passengers was Capt. W. B. B. Yates, who had that morning arrived at Dunkerque on leave from the Murman Coast. Slowly the ship passed out of Dunkerque harbour and moved along the French coast, until opposite Calais. The day was perfect. A bright sun blazed down upon the deck, and there was scarcely a ripple on the water. Every now and then a fountain of water would rise at some miles’ distance, followed by the sound of a deep ‘boom,’ as some mine was destroyed. Opposite Calais the ship turned north towards the English coast, and, in the early evening, the coast of France dipped from view, and all said good-bye to the land which held for them so many memories. A run along the English coast brought the “St. George,” in the early morning, into Southampton Water, where it anchored off Netley until about 8-0 a.m.
Soon after breakfast the cadre landed at Southampton Docks and the work of unloading began. As the vehicles were slung by the great cranes out of the ship, they were run by the men into a large covered shed to await entrainment. A change had been made in the programme. When it left France, the cadre had expected to go to a camp at Fovant and remain there until stores had been checked over. But on arrival in England, it was found that only the stores were to go to Fovant, while the cadre was to proceed direct to Halifax. As soon as the vehicles were loaded the cadre might leave. Everyone worked with a will, and, by tea time, everything was on the train. Then all marched to Southampton West Station to entrain for London. While the cadre was waiting there, the train carrying the battalion’s vehicles passed through the station on its way to Fovant, and a shout of unholy glee was the farewell of the transport men to their beloved (?) limbers. An uneventful journey brought the party to London where all spent the night at the Buckingham Palace Hotel.
Shortly after 3-0 p.m. on June 18th, the cadre reached Halifax. On the platform Brigadier-General R. E. Sugden, C.M.G., D.S.O., Lieut.-Colonel H. S. Atkinson, T.D., Lieut.-Colonel J. Walker, D.S.O., and many other old officers of the Battalion were waiting to meet the party and give it a rousing welcome. Outside the station was Sergt.-Drummer H. Deane, with a band which he had collected. A colour escort had been sent down from the depot of the 3rd Battalion Duke of Wellington’s Regt. But, best of all, hundreds of demobilised men of the Battalion—the men who had made its history—had paraded there to welcome their old comrades. “Demobilised men of the 1/4th Duke of Wellington’s Regt. rally round their old Battalion” was the inscription on the banner which they carried.
The cadre was photographed at the Station, and then it fell in and moved off. Notice of its coming had been very short, but the streets were gay with flags and packed with cheering crowds. Preceded by the band, and followed by the Colours with their escort and the demobilised “Dukes,” who once again “moved to the right in fours,” the cadre marched up Horton Street and round to the Town Hall, where it was welcomed home by the Mayor. The Commanding Officer thanked the Mayor for all the town and district had done for the Battalion while overseas, and for the day’s welcome home. Then, turning to the men, he said farewell to them in words which all will remember:—
“The Battalion will now pass to another command, and I take this opportunity of thanking the men for their loyalty to me, to the regiment, and to the town and district they have represented. Those of us who have been spared to come through this great conflict hold a very sacred trust. We must ever remember the comrades we have left lying on the battle-fields of France and Flanders. Let us try to prove worthy of their sacrifice. They have died that we might live; and on our return to civilian life we must continue to serve our country, our town, and our homes in the same spirit of loyalty, cheerfulness and trust that pulled us through four years of war. If you do that you can look to the future with happiness, certain that your great efforts of the last few years have not been made in vain.”
THE CADRE AT HALIFAX, JUNE 18th, 1919.
The cadre was then entertained by the Mayor at the Drill Hall, and afterwards the men dispersed to their homes for the night.