As soon as the detrainment was completed, we proceeded on board the "Mount Temple," with certain Royal Field Artillery Details, the ship being under the command of Major Kent, R.F.A. At 6.30 p.m. we dropped down to Netley, imagining we were off, instead of which we anchored there for the night. The greater part of the next day, February 26th, was spent on board in physical and other exercises and inspections. Late in the afternoon, much to our surprise, orders were received that 21 Officers and 763 other ranks were to disembark, presumably because it was not desirable for so many troops to cross on a slow going boat like the "Mount Temple." Having left on board Major Clarke, Capt. Ashwell, and Lieut. Heathcote with two-and-a-half platoons of A Company, and Capts. Hodgkinson and Davenport with the Signal, Transport and Machine-Gun Sections, the remainder of us disembarked about 6.30 p.m., and proceeded to a Rest Camp about three miles outside Southampton. It was very disappointing to be split up, but there was nothing to be done but to make the best of it. We cannot say that our two days' stay at the Rest Camp was exactly enjoyable, for the camp was uncomfortable, and no passes were allowed to the town. We therefore fully appreciated the kindness of the ladies of the St. John Ambulance Association, who had huts near the camp, and gave us most excellent meals.
On February 28th, a further contingent of 101 men under Captain Becher embarked on the "Caledonian," and later in the day the rest of us went on board a small Clyde pleasure steamer, the "King Edward," where we were crowded beyond description. Neither party sailed, however, that day, and we spent the night on board. The next day those on the "King Edward" had to disembark once again! This took place early in the morning, and after a little wandering we ultimately obtained billets for the Officers at the Central Hotel, and for the men at the Watt Memorial Hall.
In the end we embarked on the "King Edward" on the afternoon of March 2nd, and sailed the same night. There was so much to interest everyone until we got out to sea that we had little time in which to indulge sentimental feelings. That gliding down Southampton Water in silence broken only by the throbbing of the engines, with lights out, sentries posted, and in some cases Machine-Guns mounted, the sudden appearance out of the darkness from somewhere off the Isle of Wight of a destroyer to pilot us across the Channel, the challenge to the ship as to who we were, and the order to "carry on," the numberless rays of searchlights sweeping around on all sides—such was the start of our great expedition, precisely the same, no doubt, as that of most other troops who crossed during the war.
We had an excellent crossing and anchored off Havre early the following morning, disembarking about 7.30 a.m. The morning was spent amongst the hangars at the docks, drawing sheep-skin coats and other equipment. Here we were met by Major Clarke who reported that Capt. Ashwell with two platoons had already proceeded up country, and that they had all had a very uncomfortable time at Havre, sleeping in trucks or wherever they could. They had been joined by M. Lacolle, who was to be attached to the Battalion as Interpreter. After dinner we marched down to our entraining point, and were able to entrain more or less at leisure during the afternoon—our first experience of a French Troop train. Later on we got accustomed to their ideas, but certainly for the men, and often for Officers too, the French way is not quite in accordance with our own ideas, and we must confess it went very much against the grain to have to crowd 36 to 40 men in nothing more or less than a cattle truck. "Hommes 40: Chevaux 8," may be all right for the "Chevaux," but for the "Hommes" we consider a revised number is required.
During these first few hours spent at Havre we learnt to appreciate the Y.M.C.A. huts, which supplied much excellent refreshment, and the Officers will certainly not forget the delicious tea and cakes so generously provided by Mrs. Pitt.
We left for the North at 5.15 p.m. At Rouen a halt was made for the engine to take in water, and ourselves coffee and rum. The taste of the latter was new to most of us, but we liked it well enough to hope that we might make its acquaintance again. Early in the morning of March 4th, we had a short "halte repas" at Abbeville for breakfast, and continuing via Calais and St. Omer we eventually, about 1 p.m., after a 20 hours journey, detrained at Cassel, which if tradition does not lie, was the happy hunting ground of the good old Duke of York, who
"Had ten thousand men,
He marched 'em up to the top of the hill,
And he marched 'em down again."
If the English Tommy of those days was anything like the modern "Old Bill" he probably had something pointed to say about the Hill of Cassel, and was equally unappreciative of the magnificent view one got from its summit!
Capt. Ashwell met us at the Station and acted as our guide to the little village of Oudezeele, which we reached about 5 o'clock after a trying seven miles' march. The men were tired after their long, cramped journey; many wore new boots, whilst all were weighed down with enormous packs, which had been added to by the newly drawn sheep-skin coats. It was not surprising that under such conditions many fell out, and that most of us were thoroughly weary by the time we reached our destination. Ashwell and his party too, had not had a pleasant time. Strangers in a strange land without Battalion, Brigade or Divisional Headquarters—or any of the other luxuries which make life worth living—they had found existence rather precarious. Ashwell himself had walked 45 miles in three days in search of rations, so that our arrival with the transport was more than welcome.
We found our billets rather strange after the houses and cottages to which we had become accustomed in England, as they consisted mostly of scattered farms, several platoons and sometimes a whole Company or more being billeted at one farm, generally in barns.