ich hurried by all roads out of Antwerp during the night of
the 9th of October bound for anywhere, and fleeing from the destroyers
of Louvain, was one of the most disheartening spectacles of the war.
There were some bright spots in the prevailing darkness. One of these
was General Sir Henry Rawlinson, of the Seventh Division, who took over
the command at Ostend. 'I came into contact continuously with him for
the next month,' says Air Commodore Samson, 'and I never saw him
down-hearted once, even in the worst periods at Ypres. I never left his
presence without feeling that we were bound to win: he was worth an Army
Corps by himself.' The English nurses, who had two omnibus loads of
wounded, are another luminous memory of that awful night. 'They were a
splendid advertisement for the English race; absolutely unperturbed,
calm and competent, amidst the surrounding mob of panic-stricken people.
They impressed me more than I can say. Their one job was to get their
wounded charges safe to Ostend, and that they would do it was evident to
the most casual observer.'

The evacuation of Antwerp put an end to all plans for a British
offensive in Belgium. Ostend was crowded with refugees, and the streets
were full of distressing scenes. The harbour railway station was a
seething mass of humanity attempting to get on board the few steamers
that went to England. The British forces, and with them the Royal Naval
Air Service, retreated by stages. Aerodromes were occupied successively
at Thourout, Ypres, and, on the 15th of October, Poperinghe. On this
same date Zeebrugge and Ostend fell into the hands of the Germans.
'During the last three weeks', says Air Commodore Samson, 'we had been
always on the go, without a home, without any idea where we were going
to next, without food sometimes, without adequate transport, and yet we
had kept going because all ranks had pulled their pound and a bit over.'

Thus ended the Belgian adventure of the Naval Air Service. It had been
good while it lasted. If a force of five thousand skilled and fit men,
with armoured cars and aeroplanes, had been available for these
operations, the German communications might have been seriously
disordered. Some critics condemn all such adventures as 'side-shows'.
They may be right; but it is always to be remembered that the national
character is seen at its best in solitary adventures of this kind, and
that the British Empire, from the first, was built up by
side-sho