" ride was to Dublin. It rained most of the way there
and all the way back, but a glow of patriotism kept me warm. In Dublin I
went into a little public-house for some beer and bread and cheese. The
landlord told me that though he wasn't exactly a lover of soldiers,
things had changed now. On my return I was given lunch in the Officers'
Mess, for nobody could consider their men more than the officers of our
company.

The next day we were inoculated. At the time we would much rather have
risked typhoid. We did not object to the discomfort, though two of us
nearly fainted on parade the following morning--it was streamingly
hot--but our farewell dinner was absolutely spoilt. Bottles of the best
Moselle Carlow could produce were left untouched. Songs broke down in
curses. It was tragic.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] This was written before the days of the "Submarine Blockade."

CHAPTER II.

THE JOURNEY TO THE FRONT

We made a triumphant departure from Carlow, preceded down to the station
by the band of the N.V. We were told off to prevent anybody entering the
station, but all the men entered magnificently, saying they were
volunteers, and the women and children rushed us with the victorious
cry, "We've downed the p'lice." We steamed out of the station while the
band played "Come back to Erin" and "God save Ireland," and made an
interminable journey to Dublin. At some of the villages they cheered, at
others they looked at us glumly. But the back streets of Dublin were
patriotic enough, and at the docks, which we reached just after dark, a
small, tremendously enthusiastic crowd was gathered to see us off.

They sang songs and cheered, and cheered and sang songs. "I can
generally bear the separation, but I don't like the leave-taking." The
boat would not go off. The crowd on the boat and the crowd on the wharf
made patriotic noises until they were hoarse. At midnight our supporters
had nearly all gone away. We who had seen our motor-cycles carefully
hoisted on board ate the buns and apples provided by "Friends in Dublin"
and chatted. A young gunner told me of all his amours, and they were
very numerous. Still--

For my uncle _Toby's_ amours running all the way in my head,
they had the same effect upon me as if they had been my
own--I was in the most perfect state of bounty and goodwill--

So I set about finding a place for sleep.

The whole of the Divisional Headquarters Staff, with all their horses,
we