As one of the more leisured members of the Mess, I was appointed to the post of editor, which also included those of printer and publisher! The initial copy was difficult to obtain, but after the issue of the first number contributions poured in. And now the chief difficulty lay in devising the best and quickest method of turning out copies. As several of our contributors revealed a greater aptitude with pencil than with pen, an art editor was added to the staff, together with an expert typist and a printer. The latter’s task was to draw off copies from the duplicator—none too easy a job when dealing with a ten-page magazine, printed with an ink liable to run badly when wet, and in a temperature above the nineties! All the same, we spent some very pleasant times in the preparation of the little journal, the while the old ship rolled smoothly on her way across the Indian Ocean. In the very small hours of an October morning we arrived at Bombay, and an R.N.R. lieutenant and myself obtained permission to go in with the early boat to do some shopping. We were dressed at 4 a.m., and it was still quite dark and appreciably chilly when the boat landed us at the new Alexandra Dock. Out of the gloom the voice of a sentry rang out in sharp challenge as we drew alongside, but we soon satisfied him that even at such an hour our business was lawful. Our first objective was the Crawford market, and thither we piloted the stewards in order that they might purchase fresh meat and vegetables for the ship. It was a curious experience to be groping about the great Indian city in the half-dawn. Now and then we stumbled over recumbent figures, who had apparently spent the night on the side-walk wrapped only in their thin cotton clothing, with a fold of the same pulled over their heads. The market is a covered building of European design, and even at this early hour the greater part of the day’s business was already over, and the salesmen were idling about their half-depleted stalls, while the small retailers as well as various servants of still-sleeping sahibs were carrying away their purchases. Having assured ourselves that the stewards (who did not know Bombay) would be able to carry on, Pack and I turned our steps towards the Taj Mahal, the great hotel on the Bund. Here we were received with some surprise, as it is not usual for English sahibs to be abroad so early. However, when after a wash and a shave we were ready for breakfast, we managed to procure a “chota hazri” of tea and bananas which we ate on the balcony, the while we watched the changing effects of sunrise in the bay. Many soldiers in uniform were present, having breakfast with their wives, who had accompanied them down from up-country stations. I felt very sorry for all these poor ladies, who could not conceal the anxiety they felt at the imminent parting with their men, who were so soon to proceed to France to fight.