After traveling the eighteen miles from camp to Quebec we boarded the big steamer that was to bear us to England. My battalion was assigned to the _Lapland_, the largest of the fleet transports. In her hold thousands of sacks of flour were stacked, part of Canada's gift to the motherland immediately on the outbreak of the war. Some of us did not appreciate the gift as we might, because it was part of our duty to load it from the dock to the hold. I had a pardonable thrill of pride as I stood on the dock and watched our fellows file aboard and I could not help asking myself--"Could these bronzed, cleanly-built, athletic men be the same who tramped wearily into camp one short month ago?" Such was the result of our officers' untiring work and the patient efforts of the regular sergeants who first took us in hand, and last, but not least, the keenness of the men themselves to become efficient and disciplined soldiers. The whole fleet sailed from Quebec to Gaspé Bay, where we were picked up by our convoy. The arrival of the battleships and cruisers was greeted with rousing cheers, which were answered in kind by the men of the fighting ships. It was the most impressive sight I have ever witnessed; up to that time nothing had so majestically expressed the sentiment of the Overseas Dominions hastening to the help of the mother country. By this time the seriousness of the conflict began to dawn upon the country. The magnificent exploits of French's glorious little force had fired every one of us, and every time the band played "Tipperary," the wildest enthusiasm prevailed. It was on one of the first nights aboard that the first shadow of the war fell upon me. A sort of gloomy mist rose before my eyes and clouded my brain, and I felt morally certain that something had happened to Tom, my twin brother, and sorrowfully I have to tell that he died in the battle of the Marne. I did not learn the particulars until I reached England. He died as he would have wished to die, fighting gloriously for the Empire. Very few of the battalions had bands with them, but the Sixth of Winnipeg, that embarked with us, had a splendid band, and they were most generous in supplying us with musical treats all the way across. I shall never forget the scene at these concerts, especially at night--the moon shining on the sea, calm almost as a lake, the men lounging in various attitudes of ease, some leaning over the taffrail, others in chairs, and all smoking and enjoying the strains to their hearts' content. The only disagreeable feature of the voyage was the deadly regularity with which we were fed upon stew; our feelings in this regard were put into rhyme by one of the grim humorists of the battalion: Our daily bread is stew, That's all the cook can brew, For kind heaven's sake, please give us some cake Or anything else that's new.