Being a Reservist, I was naturally called to the colours on the outbreak of war between England and Germany on August 4th, 1914, so I downed tools; and, although a married man with two children, I was only too pleased to be able to leave a more or less monotonous existence for something more exciting and adventurous. Being an old soldier, war was of course more or less ingrained into my nature, and during those few days before the final declaration I was at fever heat and longing to be away.

As all the world knows, war was declared on the fourth, which was a sign for all reservists to present themselves at the post offices throughout the country, there to procure their travelling allowance and proceed to the depÔt named by the authorities on each Identity Life Certificate. This I accordingly did early on the following morning. Late on the night before the General Mobilization notices had been posted up outside all newspaper offices and public buildings.

I had rather a long journey before me, having to go from a town on the South Coast, where I then resided, to a town in Lancashire, that being the depÔt of my Regiment. During the journey to London I had a conversation with a clergyman, and of course the topic was war. We agreed that it could not last for any length of time, and I remember telling him that I was going to try and get a soft job, and that I expected to have a nice holiday. Little did I think what was in store for me! Waterloo and Euston were packed to suffocation, men flocking to the colours from all parts of the country. The excitement was intense, and the scenes being enacted partially carried away my thoughts of sorrow at leaving home.

That evening I arrived at my depÔt, and, after reporting myself at the Guard Room, made my way toward the block of buildings which my unit occupied, these particular barracks being the depÔts of three units.

I met on arrival several old faces, and, after renewing our acquaintances, I there and then fell in with a batch of men going up for medical inspection. We were then examined by two doctors very thoroughly. The next place to visit was the Quarter Master's Stores, there to be fitted up with uniform, equipment, etc. After that, as it was quite dark, we retired for the night, but not before we had all taken advantage of a little refreshment kindly supplied by some ladies who had come forward to release men employed in preparing food for work in the stores. That evening a party of 500 men had been sent to join the Home Battalion then stationed at Aldershot.

Next day a similar body of men had become fit to be sent away, and I proceeded with them to the First Battalion at Aldershot.

On arrival, we were placed into Companies and Platoons. Most of us had left the service some years ago, and had no idea of the existing new formations. One man, on being asked by an Officer where his Platoon was, replied: "I don't know, sir. I haven't got it on me."

However, after a week at Aldershot, we were pretty well knocked into shape, and had also been fixed up in accounts and allowances, and other details. We also had a lecture on inoculation by the Medical Officer, who hoped that every man would consent to be operated on. Another and more interesting speech was given by the Commanding Officer, Colonel Knight, a man who fully realized the seriousness of the situation and evidently had a good idea of what the present war would be like. His speech was to this effect:

"Men of the 1st Loyal North Lancashire Regiment! I wish to bring home to you the fact that we have a hard task before us. We are out to fight a great nation and men who are out for blood. This Regiment have always been top-dogs even with the boys" (meaning time-serving men: they had that year won nine football cups out of a possible eleven, besides other sporting competitions). "What are we going to do now that we have the men?" (meaning the Reservists). "None of you men will come back—nor the next lot—nor the next after that—nor the next after that again; but some of the next might. But we'll give those Germans something to go on with, and we'll give a good account of ourselves! Remember, men, the eyes of the whole world will be upon us, and I know that you will perform whatever task is allotted to you, like men."

We were then interviewed by the King and the Queen; and, later in the day, proceeded to Farnborough Station en route for Southampton, arriving that night, every one and everything being embarked by 11.30 p.m. No one of course knew for what port we were bound, though many suggested Belgium.

We had no "send off" whatsoever; no shaking hands or wet handkerchiefs—any one not knowing a war had been declared would have had no suspicion that these men were starting out on active service. Yet every one was jolly; every one was happy. They put us aboard an old China boat, and stuffed us into the holds almost to suffocation, with one large electric light burning in a distant corner: it was most unhealthy. After an hour one could have cut the air with a knife.

No sooner had we left our moorings than we ran down a lighter, killing one man on her and knocking a big hole in her side. None of us below had the slightest idea of what was happening; all we heard was an awful noise, with the lowering of the anchor. We all declared that we had been either mined or torpedoed; but after a while things quietened down, and we all tried to obtain a little sleep.

There had been issued out to us on starting seven-pound tins of jam with our other rations. One was placed near the spot I had made for myself to sleep in. It was one of the darkest parts of the hold; and, being tired, I was soon fast asleep. On awakening next morning, to my horror I found myself covered from head to foot in jam—a sorry plight indeed, as we were not allowed to carry more kit than what we stood up in. However, after fighting for a few drops of cold tea, which had to satisfy me for a breakfast, and an hour in the sun and wind on deck, I had become perfectly dry, but my clothes were as stiff as a board. All I could do was to cheerfully declare that at any rate my armour was perhaps more bullet-proof than before.

Having set sail on the eleventh of August, we arrived at Le Havre on the morning of the twelfth, after a journey of twelve hours.