Then came the announcement of the organization of the First Auto Machine Gun Brigade, the generous gift of several of Canada’s most prominent citizens, and it was in this unit that I enlisted with my friend Pat, a six-foot, husky Scotchman, with the fighting blood of the kilties very near the surface. We were immediately transported to Ottawa in company with fifty other picked men from Montreal. At Ottawa the complement of our battery was completed upon the arrival of one hundred more men from Ottawa and Toronto. Here we trained until it came time for us to move to Montreal, and there the battery was embarked on board the Corinthian with a unit of heavy artillery. We sailed down to Quebec where we joined the other ships assembled to take over the First Canadian Contingent. _Corinthian, Wednesday, Sept. 30th, 1914._ MY DEAR MOTHER AND FATHER:— We are now steaming down the St. Lawrence. No one knows where we are going. Our fleet is a wonderful sight. All the ships are painted war gray—sides, boats and funnels. We are expecting to pick up the warships which are to convoy us across at Father Point, somewhere near where the Empress of Ireland was sunk. Quebec looked very fine. The big guns were being hoisted into boats, horses embarking, and battalion after battalion arriving and going aboard. Those who came from Valcartier have had a rough time. They actually look as if they had come through a campaign. It gave me thrills all day to see these fine men come through the dock-gates with a steady swing. It is a magnificent contribution to any army. It’s good to think of all these men coming at their country’s call. Some day, if I get back, I want to paint a picture of the fleet assembled at Quebec. The grays and greens looked really beautiful. Quebec, the city of history and the scene of many big battles, views with disdain the Canadian patriotism in the present crisis, and we had no send-off, no flags and no bands. This letter will not be mailed for ten days, until we are well on the way over. We are crowded, and if we are going through the tropics we shall have a bad time; it is cold now, so we don’t notice the congestion. We had one hundred and forty horses aboard and two batteries of heavy artillery, besides our own armored cars. All the transports are crowded. We were passed by about ten of the other boats, and as they did so we cheered each other. The thin lines of khaki on all the ships will make a name for themselves. I’m proud I am one of them. We’ve had a big dose of vaccine pumped into our arms to-day. This will be the last letter I send before I arrive, wherever we are going.