So suddenly had the blow been struck that no preparation had been made for it. Although the printed forms and broadsides were, of course, in their dusty pigeon-holes ready to be filled up, yet where were the men? Many had read the proclamation which called them up for duty with their own corps, and in numberless cases, with commendable alacrity, they set out on a long and tiresome journey to join their respective units, which were stationed, as is the case in peace-time, all over the country.
A sturdy Scot, working in Whitechapel, was endeavouring to work his way up to Edinburgh; a broad-speaking Lancastrian from Oldham was struggling to get to his regiment down at Plymouth; while an easygoing Irishman, who had conducted an omnibus in London, gaily left for the Curragh, were a few examples of the hopeless confusion now in progress.
With the disorganised train and postal services, and with the railway line cut in various places by the enemy, how was it possible for these men to carry out the orders they received?
Meanwhile, the greatest activity was in progress in the regimental depôts in the Eastern counties, Norwich, Bury St. Edmunds, Bedford, Warley, Northampton, and Mill Hill. In London, at Wellington Barracks, Chelsea Barracks, and the Tower of London, were witnessed many stirring scenes. Veterans were rejoining, greeting their old comrades—many of whom had now become non-commissioned officers since they themselves left the ranks—while excited crowds pressed round the barrack squares, wildly cheering, and singing “God save the King.”
There was bustle and movement on every hand, for the sight of English uniforms aroused the patriotic enthusiasm of the mob, who, having never been trained to arms themselves, now realised their own incompetency to defend their homes and loved ones.
Farther afield in the Home counties, the Regimental depôts at Guildford, Canterbury, Hounslow, Kingston, Chichester, and Maidstone were filling up quickly with surplus infantry, reservists, and non-efficients of all descriptions. At Guildford the Royal West Surrey Regiment were at Stoughton; at Canterbury were the old “Buffs”; at Hounslow the Royal Fusiliers; at Kingston the East Surrey Regiment; at Chichester the Royal Sussex, and at Maidstone the Royal West Kent.
Cavalry were assembling at the riding establishments, while veteran gunners and Army Service Corps men were making the best of their way by steamer, rail, and road to Woolwich.
Horses for both cavalry and artillery were urgently required, but owing to the substitution of the motor-omnibus for the horse-drawn vehicle in the London streets, there was no longer that supply of animals which held us in such good stead during the South African War.
At the depôts feverish excitement prevailed, now that every man was ordered on active service. All officers and men who had been on leave were recalled, and medical inspection of all ranks at once commenced. Rations and bedding, stores and equipment were drawn, but there was a great lack of uniforms. Unlike the German Army, where every soldier’s equipment is complete even to the last button on the proverbial gaiter, and stowed away where the owner knows where to obtain it, our officers commanding depôts commenced indenting for clothing on the Royal Army Clothing Department, and the Army Corps Clothing Department.
A large percentage of men were, of course, found medically unfit to serve, and were discharged to swell the mobs of hungry idlers. The plain clothes of the reservists coming in were disposed of, no man daring to appear in the ranks unless in uniform, Von Kronhelm’s proclamation having forbidden the tactics of the Boers of putting mere armed citizens into the field.