The embarkation of the Battalion was complete by 5 p.m. on the 5th February, and after dark we steamed out of the harbour and made for Cherbourg. It is fortunate that we escaped enemy submarines, for the little _Antrim_ was packed to its utmost limits, not only with the Jewish Battalion, but also with other troops. We were kept at the British Rest Camp at Cherbourg until the 7th, and then entrained for St. Germain, near Lyons, where we rested from the 9th to the 10th. From here we went on to Faenza, along the beautiful French and Italian Riviera. [Illustration: The REV. L. A. FALK] The arrangements throughout the journey for feeding the men and giving them hot tea, etc., were not perfect, but on the whole we did not fare badly. We arrived at Faenza on the 13th, and we will always cherish a kindly remembrance of this well-arranged Rest Camp, and of the Staff in charge there. The greatest credit is due to the Commandant, Colonel Scott Harden, for having made a veritable garden in the wilderness, and arranged everything for the comfort and well-being of the tired and travel-stained soldier passing through his capable hands. The only drawback was that my unsophisticated boys were no match for the Scotsmen whom they met in the Sergeant's Mess! However that may be, we all came away with the liveliest feelings of gratitude towards our kindly hosts who had given us a real good time at Faenza. During our halt at this delightful camp we gave a concert and also a boxing exhibition to the Italian officers of the garrison, both of which were much appreciated. The Italian G.O.C., with all his Staff, also came, and was highly interested in the exhibition. As a special compliment to us, because we were the first complete British Battalion to go through Italy, he reviewed us in front of the Town Hall on our march to the station at 10 o'clock at night. From Faenza we continued our journey to Taranto, and on the way spent a few pleasant hours at Brindisi. I walked along the docks, and, by the number of naval vessels of all types moored there, I realized that there could not be many Italian warships at sea; but it must be remembered that the Mediterranean was at this time infested with German and Austrian submarines, so that our allies must not be blamed if they were taking as few chances as possible with their ships of war. I remember asking myself the question, what is the use of a ship of war that is afraid to show itself on the open sea? As we ran along the shores of the Adriatic, we were all wondering whether an Austrian war vessel would not suddenly dash up and blow us and our train to pieces, but, wherever the Austrian fleet may have been that day, fortunately for us it was not cruising on the Adriatic Coast of Italy, and we reached Taranto on the 16th.