The rain
had ceased and twilight was deepening into darkness as the regiment,
excepting Battery A, which was left in camp for police detail, to
follow a few days later, started on the hike; back over
practically the same route the soldiers were marched from Disney to
019 when they first arrived in camp. This time they were leaving 019;
marching for the last time with Battery D through the reservation of
Camp Meade; marching to the railroad yards at Disney where trains were
being made up to convey the regiment to a point of embarkation. But
few knew whether it was to be Philadelphia, New York, or Hoboken. The
men were leaving home and home-land and departing for a land of which
they knew nought. What the ocean and Germany's program of relentless
submarine warfare had in store for them, no one knew. All hearts were
strong in the faith and all stout hearts were ready to do and to dare;
content in the knowledge that they were doing their duty to their home
and their country.

CHAPTER X.

ABOARD THE S. S. MORVADA.

Land appeared in rugged outline along the horizon as the Steamship
Morvada swept the waves when dusk was falling on the Tuesday evening
of July 16th, 1918. It was a beautiful mid-summer's night and the boys
of Battery D, in common with the members of the 311th regiment, stood
at the deck railings of the S. S. Morvada and watched the outline of
shore disappear under cover of darkness. The ship had been sailing
since 11:30 a. m., Sunday, July 14th, at which time the Morvada had
lifted anchor and slowly pushed its nose into the Delaware River;
leaving behind the Philadelphia & Reading Railroad docks at Port
Richmond, Philadelphia, Penna., the last link that held them to their
native shores.

Surmises and guesses were rife as the ship rolled on in the darkness,
leaving the boys either arguing as to the destination or else seeking
their "bunk" down in the "hatch" and rolling in for the night.

It was generally agreed that the course thus far was along the coast.
It was apparent that the ship was skirting coastline, because convoy
protection had been given by sea-planes flying out from the naval
coast stations, accompanying the transport for a distance, then
disappearing landward. The boys on the transport spent many an idle
hour watching the aviators circle the ship time and time again, often
coming within voice range of the transport's passengers.

It was also settled that the course had been Northeas