Standing in line with more than a hundred others, he was surprised to see, only a short way behind him, his brother-in-law, John Cornwall. * * * * * Cornwall, in January, 1918, had made application to enter the Officers Training Camp at Port Benjamin Harrison, but had been rejected because he was past forty-five. He had then tried to enlist as a private, but had been rejected for the same reason. He had tendered his services to the Judge Advocate General's department, but had heard nothing from his application. As a last opportunity he offered his services to the International Y and had been accepted. He arrived in New York on the night of August 27th and learned that his passport had been received, and he and three hundred and sixteen other Y men were to sail on September 1st. In the early morning of that date they boarded a train for Montreal, where they arrived past midnight and were marched aboard the Burmah, a British transport of seven thousand tons burden. At two a. m. they were given a meal of tea, bread, condensed milk, boiled potatoes and a most horrible sausage and told to turn in. As their bunks were hold hamocks, quite a few turned out. About daylight the thousand-mile journey down the St. Lawrence began. When they reached the ocean they joined a convoy of a dozen ships, screened in a cold mist and rocked by a choppy sea. Then began the ocean voyage of twelve days, through fog and rain and over a rough, gray sea. At night it was early to bed, because lights were not allowed. The fare shows the ship's registry, and for breakfast, dinner and supper was the same--tea, oatmeal, mutton, marmalade, condensed milk, cheese, oleomargarin, bread and boiled potatoes. The ship was redolent with mutton. Those whose stomachs were upset by a first voyage, more than sixty per cent, declared they could never again look a sheep in the face and live through it. Several gave their sheep skin coats away, believing they added to the prevailing odor. Every day of the voyage they marched in the morning and held a song service in the afternoon, followed by an address by some diplomatic preacher or professor, who, being on a British transport, considered it an opportune time to tell the captain and crew what the Yanks intended doing and why the soldiers of all the other allied nations had failed in the war. When they were off the Irish coast a half-dozen British destroyers steamed out of the fog and met them and, like greyhounds at full speed, chased one another in great circles around the more slowly moving convoy. At Liverpool they marched ashore singing, "The Yanks are Coming" and never marched again. Then they traveled by train to London and a day or two later to Southampton, then by channel steamer to Havre, then by train to Paris, where most of the men were assigned to service in France.