ur departure arrived. On September 28th,
with several other units, the 14th Battalion, to which I had been
attached, marched off to the entraining point. I took one last look at
the great camp which had now become a place of such absorbing interest
and I wondered if I should ever see again that huge amphitheatre with
its encompassing mountain witnesses. The men were in high spirits and
good humour prevailed.

We saw the three companies of Engineers moving off, each followed by
those mysterious pontoons which followed them wherever they went and
suggested the bridging of the Rhine and our advance to Berlin. Someone
called out, "What are those boats?" and a voice replied, "That's the
Canadian Navy." We had a pleasant trip in the train to Quebec,
enlivened by jokes and songs. On our arrival at the docks, we were
taken to the custom-house wharf and marched on board the fine (p. 024)
Cunard liner "Andania", which now rests, her troubles over, at the
bottom of the Irish Sea. On the vessel, besides half of the 14th
Battalion, there was the 16th (Canadian Scottish) Battalion, chiefly
from Vancouver, and the Signal Company. Thus we had a ship full to
overflowing of some of the noblest young fellows to whom the world has
given birth. So ended our war experience in Valcartier Camp.

Nearly five years passed before I saw that sacred spot again. It was
in August 1919. The war was ended, peace had been signed, and the
great force of brother knights had been dispersed. Little crosses by
the highways and byways of France and Belgium now marked the
resting-place of thousands of those whose eager hearts took flame
among these autumn hills. As I motored past the deserted camp after
sunset, my heart thrilled with strange memories and the sense of an
abiding presence of something weird and ghostly. Here were the old
roads, there were the vacant hutments. Here were the worn paths across
the fields where the men had gone. The evening breeze whispered
fitfully across the untrodden grass and one by one the strong
mountains, as though fixing themselves more firmly in iron resolve,
cast off the radiant hues of evening and stood out black and grim
against the starlit sky.

CHAPTER II. (p. 025)

THE VOYAGE TO ENGLAND.

_September 29th to October 18th, 1914._

The "Andania" moved out to mid-stream and anchored off Cape Diamond.
The harbour was full of liners, crowded with men