We shall be getting off in a few hours and this may be the last I shall write for some time. I have put in a great deal of time during the voyage writing and have done so under difficulties. Sometimes the cabin has been torn in pieces, and often arguments, carried on by leather-lunged opponents of “Kultur,” have made this work hard. We hear that some paper published an account of the sinking of twenty of the ships. This rumor is false, and it’s a beastly thing for the newspaper to do, but you must remember to discount all news a great deal. Still on board and we shall probably be here for a few days more. My, it’s galling to be so near to the land and yet to be cooped up in our crowded quarters. Crowded launches and steamers are sailing round the liners. All day long cheering crowds come out to see us. Last night another liner called Florizel, with the First Regiment Newfoundland troops, tied up to us. They were a fine-looking lot of men. We told them we had no tobacco; they threw dozens of tins of their tobacco and cigarettes over to us. We fought for them. I got the remains of one tin with most of the contents spilt. Still, as many of us haven’t had a smoke for three days, we appreciated it. Several cruisers have come in to-day, and there seem to be dozens of submarines and torpedo boats cruising around all day. The reason we did not go to Southampton is that five German submarines were waiting for us. The transports are unloading at the rate of five or six ships a day. It will probably be our turn on Sunday. The fleet looks splendid at night now that we have most of the lights on. All night the steel riveters are at work on three battleships that are being built close by. Near us are several “wooden walls.” One is a ship of Nelson’s, the Queen Adelaide. Every boat, tug, lighter and motor boat here is the property of the Admiralty. ------------------------------------- We are probably going to Salisbury Plain for two months. We are the first Expeditionary Force to land in England from the dominions or colonies, but others are on their way. The sailors from the training ships serenade us in boats with bands and play “O Canada,” “The Maple Leaf Forever,” and all day long on one ship or the other we hear “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary.” Every one is singing it; without doubt it is _the_ song of the war. To-day we got a bundle of papers. We read them right through to the advertisements. Cigarettes and matches are at a premium and food is running out on board. The strain of staying here is becoming too great. We’re all disagreeable and insubordinate. The guard room is already full and will soon need enlarging.