Think of the life they would have! The old song:-- "We don't want to lose you, But we think you ought to go, For your King and your Country Both need you so.
"We shall-want you and miss you, (p.

012) But with all our might and main We shall cheer you, thank you, kiss you, When you come back again." Did they think of that, and all the joys it seemed to promise them?
I pray not.
What a change had come over the world for me since the day before! On that evening I had dined with friends who had laughed and talked small scandal about their friends.

One, also, was rather upset because he had an appointment at 10.30 the next day--and there was I, a few hours later, being tossed about and soaked in company with men who knew they would run a big chance of never seeing England again, and were certainly going to suffer terrible hardships from cold, filth, discomfort and fatigue.

There they stood, sat and lay--a mass of humanity which would be shortly bundled off the boat at Boulogne like so many animals, to wait in the rain, perhaps for hours, before being sent off again to whatever spot the unknown at G.H.Q.had allotted for them, to kill or to be killed; and there was I among them, going quietly to G.H.Q., everything arranged by the War Office, all in comfort.

Yet my stomach was twitching about with nerves.