s
people, the best possible accommodation was provided for us, but even
that powerful interest was not always sufficient to prevent delay and
discomfort. On reaching Creil, the junction for Belgium, we found the
station full of English troops in their retreat from Mons, and many were
the stirring stories gathered from our retiring, but not disheartened
men. The spirit of the French troops much impressed us; unaccompanied,
my ladies went among them with confidence, and on every hand were
treated with the consideration of gentlemen. I remarked on this to a
French gentleman who was travelling with us, and he said with warranted
pride, 'But they are gentlemen, monsieur.' Some of the wounded French
took the greatest interest in describing to us the circumstances under
which they had been hit,--some, as the manner of soldiers is, displayed
the bullet or piece of shrapnel which had laid them low.

Nearly all the troop trains going to the Front were decorated with
flowers and evergreens, whilst the stations and villages were alive with
enthusiastic people assembled to cheer their men onward to their
glorious and dangerous task.

It was with thankful hearts and very travel-stained persons that we
finally reached home, heartily agreeing after our exciting experiences
that a little goes a long way.

I had at the earliest moment possible volunteered my services to the
Army Chaplains Department, but was informed that there was no prospect
at that time of my being called upon; accordingly I joined my
Territorial Battalion, under Colonel Park, and was awaiting a summons to
service, here, there, or anywhere, when, as I have described, the call
came. I have often wondered why the War Office always springs upon one
with such alarming suddenness; possibly it is the way of the Army; it is
certainly disconcerting, although it is educational, for it teaches one
to be always ready and alert for any emergency.

And now the order had come, and there was hurrying to and fro; a rapid
dash home; a putting together of kit which would be required in the
unknown life about to be entered upon. A last night at home; and then
the reporting of oneself at the War Office; the signing of a contract
for twelve months' service; a medical examination as to physical
fitness; an hour or two's shopping at Harrods (where one developed a
tendency to think of everything not wanted, and to forget what was
really useful); and finally Waterloo Station, that scene o