GOING OVER
Having but a small percentage of globe-trotters among their number, the
ensuing weeks on water and land were full of interest for all the men,
even the blasé travellers showing just a hint of excitement during the
trip through the submarine danger zone. Although the day was dreary
when the train pulled away from the station at Niantic, the weather
cleared as the seacoast was left behind, and by the time Springfield
was passed the skies had cleared and the beauties of the tree-clad
hills of Vermont and New Hampshire adorned in their gorgeously colored
autumn foliage presented a glorious farewell to the men as the setting
sun added its roseate glow to their final view of the U. S. A.
Travelling at night in a well-filled day coach has its difficulties if
one has the desire to snatch a few minutes of sleep, but most of the
men, thoroughly tired from their efforts of the past few days and their
broken sleep of the preceding nights, managed to court slumber in some
of the most amazing positions. At midnight all were aroused at White
River Junction, Vermont, to be served coffee, the quality of which ever
after was an unfailing object of invectives and a taunt to the Vermont
members of the Company.
After circling the city of Montreal, the train arrived at 6 o'clock the
following morning on the pier near His Majesty's Ship _Megantic_, and
within an hour the entire Battalion with its baggage had been hurried
aboard, A and B Companies to occupy the hold of the ship, with C and D
in the second class cabins. At 10 o'clock the ship left the pier and
began the journey down the St. Lawrence river. Of course the river was
calm, and with a berth ticket and a mess ticket safely in their grasp,
most of the men spent their time in exploring the ship as far as was
permitted and viewing the pastoral scenery of Quebec and Labrador.
Early in the evening of October 11 the ship passed under Victoria
bridge and stopping at the historic city of Quebec took aboard two
hundred Serbian reservists in their quaint costumes, loaded down with
baggage of all descriptions. The following morning the pitching and
tossing of the ship produced some doubt in the minds of many as to
the wisdom of leaving the blankets. Then followed a day of misery and
dejection for all except those few and fortunate ones who were not
subject to the attacks of "mal de mer."
To thoroughly appreciate the wonderful land-locked harbor of Halifax
one must pass through the rough water the men had experienced and then
watch the ship steam into the smoothest of basins, protected as it is
from the ocean by a wall of rocks almost large enough to be called
mountains. Here the _Megantic_ lay at anchor from Saturday afternoon
until Sunday afternoon when, after a hundred Canadian artillerymen had
been added to the passengers, the convoy, consisting of the transports
_Baltic_, _Scotia_, _Justicia_ and _Megantic_, the tankers _Cherryleaf_
and _Cloverleaf_, a British auxiliary cruiser and a tramp freighter,
steamed out of the harbor. With the entire passenger list assembled at
boat drill and standing at attention, bands on the British warships
lying in the harbor played "The Star Spangled Banner" as the transports
passed by.
Perhaps that moment might be catalogued as one of the most poignant
thrills of a lifetime. The men were leaving behind them the land to
which they might never return. They faced first the dangers of the
submarines, and if they passed safely through that menace still greater
perils awaited them. There were those who covered their emotion well
while the bands played the National Anthem, but there was a long
silence even after the harbor of Halifax was far to the stern and the
ship was reaching out into the first real ground swells which betokened
their presence on the boundless Atlantic.
Routine on board ship was rather irksome to men who had been free
a good share of the time in camp to follow the dictates of their
own desires. Twice daily there were boat drills, and there were
calisthenics and even short classes in various subjects during dull
hours. One of the most mystifying things about the ship was the seeming
regularity with which passageways were opened and closed to traffic.
It is related that while "Tempy" Sullivan was on guard at one of the
passageways Captain Wolf nearly ascended the stairs before that astute
person discovered him, whereupon, in spite of all the Captain's pleas,
he was forced to descend the way he had come and try another place.
"Them's my orders," said Sullivan with stony determination when the
Captain explained he was officer of the day.
Ideas of English hospitality were given a set-back by the prices which
the stewards aboard ship charged for all commodities. The prices of
tobacco were prohibitive and there were no matches to be had within a
short time of sailing, and it was whispered that the fruit being sold
had been sent to the ship by the Red Cross for free distribution among
the soldiers. Beer was on tap at the wet canteen after three days out.
Fair weather favored the ships until they started on a course which was
to take them to the north of Ireland, when they met fog, rain and hail
in varying quantities until Sunday, October 21, a day before sighting
the west coast of Scotland, the weather cleared. On the afternoon of
that day an escort of nine British destroyers made its appearance,
bobbing on the large waves like corks in a wash-tub and dashing through
the convoy, flashing their signals with heliographs by day and blinkers
by night.
Wales was sighted on the starboard the morning of October 23 and
that night at 7 o'clock, after waiting for some time in the Mersey
for a pilot, the troops debarked onto Liverpool's famous floating
dock, immediately boarding the queer little English trains, which
waited nearby. On the trip following the men had their first sight of
Englishwomen engaged in men's work and garbed in the unconventional
overalls and jumpers which later became common at home. A short stop
was made at Birmingham where coffee almost as bad as the White River
Junction brand was handed out. Some of the men survived the crush at
the lunch counter to discover later that the patriotic workers there
had given them almost half as much as they had bought. At 4:30 the next
morning the train stopped at Borden and the Battalion hiked about four
miles through the mud in a drizzling rain to Oxley, where watersoaked,
leaky tents were assigned while the cooks used all their magic to coax
a fair meal out of the available rations.
Tramping around in the mud which was at all times ankle deep and often
deeper, a Y. M. C. A. hut was discovered with a small stock of food and
an American in charge. Here change was made from American to English
money and most of the supplies available were purchased. Rest that
night was more or less disturbed and wishes were expressed for that
dry little bunk in the ship. The rain always found a hole just above
the sleepers and there was no way of repairing the leak. At that, the
men fared better than the officers, for the tents of the latter were
located in a wind-swept area and the high winds of the night levelled
them completely.
At 4 o'clock the following morning it was up and going again. This
time the train passed down through the sunny green fields of the
English countryside (for the rain had abated during the early hours)
past farmhands tilling the soil behind neatly trimmed hedges, through
cities which hid beneath their appearance of calm a hive of industry,
to the port of Southampton, where another rest camp was the prospect.
Like that at Borden, this proved to be muddy, but duck-boards helped in
this difficulty. Here were American marines doing police duty, German
prisoners at work on the roads and the interesting buildings of one of
the oldest cities in the country. The stay here lasted until October
29. Long before this, however, cash supplies had dwindled to such an
extent that but few of the men continued to patronize the restaurants,
although the food served at the kitchen seemed barely sufficient to
keep life in the body of a healthy soldier.
Crowded aboard the channel steamer _Londonderry_ with British soldiers
from all corners of the world, the trip across the English Channel
was begun after a long tedious wait, during which the opportunity
was afforded the men of seeing their first example of what a torpedo
could do to the side of a ship. The _Gloucester Castle_ lying in dry
dock exhibited a wound through which a fair sized motor truck could be
driven. Passing out of the harbor, the ship waited for darkness in the
shelter of land and then began that leaping, bounding journey of seven
hours which landed the Battalion in Le Havre, but first gave most of
the men one of their worst tastes of seasickness.
Le Havre offered the troops their first sight of French soil, but it
was not as pleasantly impressive as it might have been, for toiling
uphill four miles with all your belongings on your back will make the
most wonderful scenery in the world fade into mediocrity without the
added misfortunes of scanty supplies and the same dreary weather which
was encountered during the stay in England.
Hydroplanes and dirigibles were sights for the men during the
twenty-four hours spent in Le Havre, but the status of "Sunny France"
had received its classification along with the "Santa Claus" myth and
subsequent months did not tend to disprove this impression. Funds were
at the lowest possible level. Most of the spare cash scattered through
the Company was made up of the few shillings which were saved from the
onslaughts of the English merchants. Coupled with this was the much
lamented fact that extra rations supposed to meet the Battalion in
England had been side-tracked in some out-of-the-way place, and they
only reached the units for which they were intended after they were
well established in training camps in the Vosges.
Luckily the station platforms at Le Havre were covered with bales of
cotton when the Battalion arrived to entrain at 5:30 on the afternoon
of October 31, for these served as excellent beds and they were
universally utilized as such until the train was ready to leave at
midnight. The following day, with stops at Nantes and Versailles for
coffee and various halts all along the line for reasons at no time
apparent, after the manner of the French railway systems, the troop
train continued its eastward journey, passing through Chateau Thierry
and the scene of the first battle of the Marne, through Troyes, where
coffee and rum were served by French soldiers, to the destination at
Neufchateau, where the headquarters of the 26th Division were located
and about which clustered the various units of that organization during
the period of training which followed.