“MOBILISE!” On Saturday the 1st of August, the Captain, standing at the main entrance to the College, opened the fateful telegram which contained only that one momentous word. It had come at last! Our dreams were realised: it was _war_! But—did _one_ of us I wonder even dimly imagine the stern and terrible business that war would be? The news reached me as I was leaning against the balcony of the gymnasium talking to a friend after a bout at the punch-ball. A dishevelled fifth-termer burst through the swing doors and shouted at the top of his voice “Mobilise!” At first all were incredulous. Murmurs of “Only a scare”—“I _don’t_ think!” etc., etc., rose on all sides; but, after the messenger had kicked two or three junior cadets through the door with emphatic injunctions to “get a move on _quick_”—the rest of us were convinced, and we hurled ourselves out of the building and away to the College. Already an excited crowd was surging through the grounds: some with mouths still full from the canteen, others clutching cricket-pads and bats, and yet others but half-dressed, with hair still dripping from the swimming bath. Masters and officers on motor bikes and “push” bikes were careering over the surrounding country to recall the cadets who had gone out on leave, and to commandeer every kind of vehicle capable of carrying the big sea-chests down to the river. In gun-room and dormitory clothes, books, and boots were thrown pell-mell into these same chests, which, when crammed to their utmost capacity, were closed with a series of bangs which rang out like the sound of pistol shots. Perspiring cadets, with uniform thrown on anyhow, dragged and pushed them through doors and passages with sublime disregard of the damage to both. Once outside willing hands loaded them into every conceivable vehicle, from motor lorries to brewers’ drays, and these conveyed them post haste to the pier, where they were loaded on the steamer _Mew_, and ferried across the river to Kingswear Station. For two hours the work of transportation went on, and then all cadets turned to and strapped together such games, gear, and books as were to be sent home. At 5.30 every one fell in on the quarter-deck, and as each received his pay went off to the mess-room to get something to eat before setting out on the train journey. After this we all repaired to the gunner’s office to telegraph to our homes that we were ordered away on active service. My wire was as follows: “General mobilisation. Embarked _H.M.S. ‘——,’_ Chatham. Will write at once”—and when received was a terrible shock to my poor mother, who had not had the faintest idea that we “first termers” would in any eventuality be sent to sea. I belonged to the first, or Blake, term, which it will be remembered was due to go to Chatham, and consequently ours was the first batch to leave.