"JUMBO," THE BIGGEST AMBULANCE ON THE WESTERN FRONT.
The author is the second man on the left.
That tobacco (added to the ale) caused him to completely forget my purpose, and as the boat whistled off from the dock, he waved me a merry "Best 'o Luck."
But I thought many a time how close I came to being balked, by my tongue. A word from him to headquarters would have cooked the whole game.
On the water the night was very stormy. I guess all nights are on the English channel, but this one was particularly so. It rained all the way. It was a four-hour trip, and while I am an excellent sailor and had never been sick in crossing the ocean, I was fearfully sick that night. The next day I was in London.
What was the procedure? I was told by somebody, that wherever I was going I would surely be held three days in England. I went to the American Consul. I wanted my passport visé for Holland. My reasons? Well, I couldn't say "en route" anymore because they don't approve of people going through Holland to the enemy. Going to Holland, what for? Why, naturally, to see my old friend and professor, Doctor Henry Van Dyke, American Minister there. Of course the doctor didn't know I was coming, and wouldn't have remembered me anyway. But nevertheless I had conceived a sudden and irresistible desire to visit him.
A young fellow by the name of Ripley Wilson, about my own age, was vice-consul. He waited on me, but he did not seem satisfied with my explanations, or my reasons for wanting to go to Holland. He talked and argued and hemmed and hawed, and finally said, "What is your real object in going to Holland, Mr. Benson?" I answered, "I have told you that I am going over to visit my old professor, Doctor Van Dyke." Then he tried to trap me. He said, "Oh, did you go to Harvard?" I said, "No, sir." He said, "Then where did you know him?" I said, "Dr. Van Dyke never taught in Harvard. I knew him at Princeton, naturally, the place where he taught." This kind of floored him, but still he persisted. "But, Mr. Benson, what would anybody say about such a reason as you give, 'going to Holland to visit a friend in war time?'"
I saw the situation. Ripley Wilson just needed a little domineering, and for the first time in my life I was a little saucy to a diplomatic officer. I said, "Mr. Wilson, I have told you what I am going to Holland for, and furthermore what would anybody say about you asking me so many petty questions? Wouldn't they say it was none of your business?" It worked.
In a few minutes I had his signature and stamp on my passport, and we bade each other a good-natured good-bye. Then I had to go to the British foreign office to get their permission to leave, and that was not so easy. The young fellow who first handled the case asked me a lot of similar questions and I answered them in the same way. Then he asked me if I was going to try to go to Belgium when I got to Holland. "Why, I hadn't thought of it," I replied. All the time with a straight face. After a while he went into another room and presently returned and asked me to come back at four o'clock, as I had better have a personal talk with the colonel.