walked round that camp, feeling that in each other we had
our only link with home, with past associations. We did not
speak much. Each had his own thoughts, each was
subconsciously leaning on the other for support, for the
coming unknown experiences. It was a cold March evening, and
for want of anything to do, and in the hope of getting a
little warmth, we decided to go back to our tent and turn
in. I have tried to give an idea of how we were feeling; it
can be summed up as tired and cold--and a bit homesick.

"It was just then that we spotted a tent with the sign of
'The Red Triangle.' We had visions of hot tea. An oasis in
the desert could not have been more welcome. We entered the
large tent; it was very full, and a long line was patiently
awaiting the turn for purchasing. There was no shouting, no
pushing or elbowing to get up to the front and be served
first. The tent was really and truly a haven of peace--such
a welcome port of call. On the small tables were magazines
and 'Blighty' newspapers, paper and envelopes were given for
the asking, and a gramophone was grinding out the tunes we
all loved. We sat at one of the tables, so thankful for such
a change of scene, and for the warmth of the hot tea. The
same welcome, the same homely atmosphere, were here as in
the other Y.M. centres. One felt, _one was made to feel_,
that his was the right to enter and stay and enjoy himself
each in his own way, and that is why the Y.M. is so popular,
and why both the taciturn and the jocular find their way by
common consent to these Y.M.C.A. tents."

In a few days came the order to proceed to Ypres. He writes:

"We swung round into the station yard, and were allotted to
our compartments, fondly imagining we should be off in a few
minutes. We took off our equipment and other paraphernalia,
and settled down for our journey. A minute or so afterwards
the order was passed down that the train would not start
before 7 o'clock, and that men might leave their
compartments but not the station. Here was a fine look-out.
It was only about 2 o'clock, and we had to look forward to
at least five hours of weary waiting, without anything hot
to drink and only bully and biscuits to eat. It was not a
pleasant prospect, you will agree, but apparently it was