They were doing their simple duty.
"But think of the wonder of it," said the naval officer again, "that Canada should feel in that way its response to the call of the blood." The old man's lips were still quivering.
"That is true, sir," said the M.O., joining in the talk, "but there is something more.

Frankly, my opinion is that the biggest thing, sir, with some of us in Canada, is not that the motherland was in need of help, though, of course, we all feel that, but that the freedom of the world is threatened, and that Canada, as one of the free nations of the world, must do her part in its defence." "A fine spirit," said the old gentleman.
"This fight," continued the M.O., "is ours, you see, as well as yours, and we hate a bully." The old salt swore a great oath, and said: "You are pups of the old breed, and you run true to type.

I'm glad to know you, gentlemen," he continued, shaking them warmly by the hand.
After they had gone a few steps he called Barry back to him.
"That's my card, sir.

I should like you to come to see me in London sometime when you are on leave." Barry glanced at the card and read, "Commander Howard Vincent, R.N.R." "It was very decent of the old boy," he said to the Commanding Officer afterwards, when recounting the interview.

"I don't suppose I'll ever use the card, but I do think he really meant it." "Meant it," exclaimed the Commanding Officer.