Page:War's dark frame (IA warsdarkframe00camp).pdf/148

118 the arrival of the transport with the rest of the party for the front.

Later, while we waited for the boat, he chatted amiably.

"I'm one Englishman," he smiled, "who knows you don't hunt Indians or shoot buffalos on Fifth Avenue. Several years ago somebody tried to show me all of New York in three days. I'm still convalescent."

He indicated two grey cars rolling down the quay driven by young men in khaki. An officer sprang from the tonneau of one and hurried forward. He was introduced as a staff captain from headquarters who would be my cicerone for the next few days. The anonymity of this war extends even to such a companionship. Captain Williams, to use some name then, was sympathetic about my presence there at such an hour. It sketched for him that interminable journey by night. He would have waited for me. So at once I was made to feel welcome and at home. The English don't ask many to see what they are accomplishing in Flanders, but when you are there they reserve little. They never give you a feeling of intrusion.

Two transports came in to-day. As they made fast to the quay one saw that the decks were cluttered with life-preservers. Some men still strug-