ng us to Egypt,
the reason for this _volte face_ being, we understand, congestion at
Mudros, the advanced base.

[Illustration: OFFICERS OF THE BATTALION. GAILES CAMP. JULY 1914.

2nd Lt. R.M. Miller, 2nd Lt. T.A. Fyfe, Lt. and Q.-M. T. Clark, Lt. A.B.
Currie, Lt. T.S.S. Wightman, Capt. D.E. Brand, 2nd Lt. E.M. Leith, Lt.
N.R. Campbell, Lt. K. Macfarlane, 2nd Lt. J.F. Moir, 2nd Lt. J.E. Milne,
Lt. R.H. Morrison.

Capt. J.B. Neilson, Capt. H.C. Macdonald, Major A.M. Downie, Major
D.A.C. Reid, C.F., Col. F.L. Morrison, V.D., Major T.L. Jowitt, Capt.
J.R. Simson, Capt. John MacDonald, Capt. George Morton, Jr.

2nd Lt. J.W. Main, 2nd Lt. Lewis MacLellan, 2nd Lt. J.W. Malcolm, 2nd
Lt. E.T. Townsend.]

Alexandria on our return was dimmed in the heat and choking in the sand
clouds of a khamsin. This wind blows off the desert and man is almost
prostrate in its scorching blast. We had met a particularly hot
one--Alexandria had not known its like for years. The move back to
Aboukir was therefore very trying. We were now rejoined by the Transport
Section, and Major Jowitt and his party also returned. They had gone
direct to Mudros in the _Mauretania_, where an attempt was made to post
them to the 29th Division. The compliment was declined on the ground
that their unit was in the offing. After transhipping to the Donaldson
liner _Saturnia_, which was nearly hit by bombs from an aeroplane, they
were sent to Alexandria by the _Minnetonka_.

About this time Colonel Morrison had the pleasure of dining with the
Sultan of Egypt at his Palace near Alexandria, his tartan slacks
attracting considerable notice.

On 28th June we again embarked for Gallipoli, this time on the
_Menominee_. The Transport Section were left behind at Aboukir as there
was no room for them in the small sector occupied by our troops in
Gallipoli. We were all aboard and ready to sail by 4 p.m. All aboard did
we say? Then where's the Padre? Last seen going through the town with
the intention of making a few final purchases, he was now nowhere to be
found. As the relentless ship cast off and moved down the harbour, his
tall and for once dismayed figure came in sight on the quay. Too late.
Too late. All ranks crowded to the side shouting advice and sympathetic
cheers.

But the Padre was not to be denied. With the resource of the hero in the
film play, he routed out a motor boat and came speeding after us. Down
the ship's side hung a rope ladder to which clung a