An incident of peculiar interest was the visit we paid to the Spanish garrison when the _Sumner_ stopped at Gibraltar. Crossing the neutral strip, the American officers, in full uniform, drove into the little Spanish military town. It was with a natural doubt as to our reception that we made this invasion. At once the strange uniforms engaged attention, and then it was whispered and finally shouted that _los Americanos soldados_ were visiting the place, and the crowds grew greater to gaze at their former enemies. The salutations were of the most friendly nature, and there seemed no trace of Spanish animosity. A bunch of officers invited us to remain for the morrow’s bull fight, and appeared genuinely sorry that their invitation could not be accepted. They discussed the Philippine situation with friendly candor, sent messages to old acquaintances, and rejoiced that they were not going themselves. [Illustration: British soldiers leaving the Sumner after having exchanged uniforms with Americans.] At Malta the _Sumner_ anchored only a couple of lengths from shore, and her cable had hardly been paid out before several boat-loads of British Tommies were alongside. Then followed an extraordinary exhibition of fraternization. The soldiers of the two nations examined one another’s equipment and uniforms and discussed their relative usefulness. They finally began to exchange buttons from their blouses and tunics, and before many minutes had passed the spirit of trade took their fancy. A British soldier would admire the useful campaign hat of an American, who in return would declare what a good souvenir the “dinky lid” of the Britisher would make for his family at home, and the next moment they would swap. Then the trading went into blouses, trousers, and shirts; at least one entire boat-load of Tommies went back in the full field uniform of the American army. What afterwards happened to them when they encountered the strict sergeant the Americans conjectured with grins. The American colonel, however, put his foot down, and the amusing episode had to end, for the regiment was going to land for parade the next day, and there would not have been an entire uniform in the lot had the men been allowed to keep on exchanging clothes. The parade on British soil, in the presence of a British garrison, put the men on their mettle. As the Philippine khaki had not then been issued, they furbished up their worn blue suits until the uniforms made an unusually good appearance. Just before they landed, Captain McCoy stepped out to give them a final word of advice. It was short, and it expressed what every man was thinking already. “Remember one thing, men,” he said; “you are going to be watched every minute you are on shore by Britishers, so don’t forget that you are Americans.”