The names of the officers who composed the mess of the 23rd Field Ambulance were: Major Crawford (now Lieut.-Colonel), Major Brown, Captain Wright, Lieut. McCutcheon, Lieut. Mackay, Lieut. Hart, Lieut. Priestly, Lieut. Wedd, Lieut. Beaumont, Lieut. Jackson (quartermaster), Col. the Rev. W. Stevenson Jaffray, and the writer; on the whole a very cheery, hard-working set of officers, whose work met with high appreciation of Head-quarters, in due course. Many conjectures were on foot as to our destination, but when we found the course was north-east, we knew that France was out of the question, and Belgium loomed large in our imagination. The scene was an eerie one as the black hulls of the vessels moved quietly over the placid sea, with a protective squadron of torpedo destroyers surrounding us. It was sufficiently risky to give a piquance to the experience. The Admiralty had laid mines from the Goodwin Sands to the Belgium coast, and it was a remarkable feat of pilotage which took the whole fleet through this mine zone in safety to its destination. The naval officer who acted as pilot to the _Victorian_, on which I was aboard, informed me the next morning that it had been the most anxious night of his life, and I can well understand it, for the responsibility upon a man, under such circumstances, was a heavy one. Coming on deck in the early hours of the following morning I saw the low-lying Belgium coast bathed in sunlight; Zeebrugge lying a couple of miles to the east. It was with a very thankful heart that I realized that the first risky stage of our movement towards the Front was over. In due course we warped in alongside of the massive Mole at Zeebrugge; and admired the huge proportions of a quay, which I understood had been built by the Germans. Large as it was, there was not sufficient room for all the fleet of transports, so half the Division landed at Ostend and joined us later. The landing scene was stirring, and full of interest. All sorts of troops were mixed together in apparently inextricable confusion; Guardsmen, Highlanders, Linesmen, Sappers, Gunners, Cavalry and the ubiquitous A.S.C. were moving about in the keen delight of being on the soil that they had come to free from the oppressor; but the miracle of military order and discipline soon evolved order out of chaos; and the whole column moved off for its nine or ten mile trek to Bruges. With elastic step and cheery voice the men swung along to the inspiring strains of 'Tipperary.' The road was typical of Belgium; the long avenue of poplar trees, flanked by broad ditches, being the distinguishing feature of this and most Belgium roads (the centre being composed of cobbles, with macadam tracks on either side). Every one felt keen, and the horses, fresh from forty-eight hours' confinement in their very close quarters between decks, enjoyed the freedom as much as the men.