From the St. Lawrence to the Yser with the 1st Canadian brigadeCurry, Frederic C. (Crawford)
History
From the St. Lawrence to the Yser with the 1st Canadian brigade
Curry, Frederic C. (Crawford)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Canada; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, English
Interest now began to be taken in things nautical. The sextant, compass,
and log were the cause of much discussion, and the usual bets were made
on the daily run, the stakes being held by the chaplain.
Three days out and the ship's library was taken by assault, and the
sevenpenny novels that formed it disappeared into the cabins. In vain
an officer was appointed librarian with powers to search and to seize,
but conditions were not bettered.
Lectures, physical drill, and other mild duties relieved a little of the
monotony, for the journey was a slow one, a condition made necessary by
the horse transports, one of which rolled in line ahead of us.
Occasionally a stir would be noticed on her decks and a horse that had
succumbed to _mal-de-mer_ would be unceremoniously dumped overboard.
Such occasions were marked by a fusillade of pistol shots from each ship
as the carcase drifted past, for, contrary to traditions, most of us
carried revolvers for the first time in our lives and were anxious to
display our prowess.
Nearly a fortnight was thus passed gazing in singular apathy at the most
remarkable demonstration of the command of the seas that military
history of any age affords.
In three long lines, roughly a mile apart, the transports formed an
armada such as Philip of Spain never dreamed of.
But about two days out from England a black column of smoke was seen to
port, and presently the contour of a heavy battleship could be
determined bearing down on us. There was wild excitement till the
Cross of St. George could be distinguished at her masthead. It was the
ill-fated _Queen Mary_, our latest and finest battle-cruiser. At an
almost incredible speed she overtook us and passed up our lines with her
crew manning the decks and her band playing "The Maple Leaf."
[Illustration: CHURCH PARADE.]
From then on we always could see the smoke of heavier battleships in the
offing, and knew we were getting close to somewhere.
We passed the Scilly Islands about 4 o'clock in the morning, but as
cards had continued till late the preceding night few but the ship's
officers saw the pin-point of light marking the westward sentinel of the
Old World.
Then on October 14th fishing smacks again appeared and the grey coast of
Cornwall hove in sight, and by noon we could distinguish buildings along
the cliffs.
Passing the Eddystone our course was altered and all hopes of landing at
Southampton vanished. Captain H----r was much excited. After nineteen
years he was returning to his native town--Plymouth. To a running fire
of his explanations we passed up the Sound to the Hamoaze. A tugboat,
looking ridiculously small against the gigantic liner ahead, now took
us in tow, and the throbbing of the ship's screw stopped. The cessation
of this pulse added a sombre touch to our voices; we were nearing the
end of the voyage, and in another day would know the ship no more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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