But, as the Colonel expressed it, they were a "street urchin of a regiment." They had no armory, no place to drill except in the open and no place where more than a single company at a time could meet. In his post-war observations, the Colonel has noted that when the regiment returned to these shores and was feasted and entertained by the people of New York in the 71st regiment armory, it was the first occasion on which the old 15th was ever assembled under one roof. After its Federal recognition the regiment was sent to the Peekskill rifle range to learn to shoot, a valuable experience as developed later. Many of the boys became expert marksmen, a skill that became of precious value to them and their comrades. In June, 1917, they went to a war strength of 2,000 men and 56 officers. One battalion did pioneer work at Camp Upton, another at Camp Dix. A third guarded 600 miles of railroads in New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania. The Machine Gun company guarded 2,000 interned spies and pro-German prisoners at Ellis Island. Colonel Hayward has pointed with pride to the fact that in all their territory there was not a wreck, an explosion, an escaped prisoner or any other trouble. Two battalions later went to Spartanburg for training, but remained there only a couple of weeks. "I wonder what got those colored boys to volunteer" someone asked their colonel as they were embarking for France. He replied: "I have often thought of that. With many the cause was sheer patriotism. Others said they had gone into the 15th for social reasons, to meet with their friends. One--this seemed to me a most pathetic touch--said: 'I j'ined up because when Colonel Hayward asked me it was the first time anyone had ever asked me to j'ine up with anything in my whole lifetime.'" If any great amount of superstition had existed among the men or officers of the New York regiment, they would have been greatly depressed over the series of incidents that preceded their arrival in France. In the first place they had been assigned to police and pioneer duty at camps near New York, a duty which no fighting man relishes. They embarked on the transport Pocahontas November 12, 1917. Two hundred miles at sea a piston rod was bent and the vessel put back to port. They got away again December 3, were out a day and had to return on account of fire in the coal bunkers. A third attempt on December 12, in a blizzard, was frustrated by a collision with a tanker in New York harbor. After this series of bad starts, anyone inclined to indulge in forebodings would have predicted the certainty of their becoming prey for the submarines on the way over. But the fourth attempt proved successful and they landed in France on December 27, 1917. They had hoped to celebrate Christmas day on French soil, but were forced by the elements and the precautions of convoys and sailing master to observe the anniversary on board the ship.