A
second gunboat followed, then a third, all making for the open.
Immediately we were all excitement, for the rumour had been current
that we might be there for several days. But the rumour was speedily
disproved as the rattle of anchor chains became audible from the
transports nearest the harbour mouth, and one by one they followed
their little grey guides; and so, at three of the clock on October the
third, 1914, the First Canadian Contingent with guns, ammunition,
horses and equipment, left Gaspe en route to the great war.
Gradually method evolved itself out of apparent chaos. Three gunboats
took the lead and the transports fell into line about a thousand yards
from one another, so that eventually three lines were formed of about
a dozen in each and the whole fleet moved forward into the Atlantic.
The shores of Gaspe, dotted with white cottages; yellow stubble
fields; hills red and purple with autumnal foliage--these were our
last pictures of Canada--truly the last that many of us were ever to
see, and we looked upon them, our hearts filled with emotions that
these scenes had never given rise to before. Our ruddy Canadian
emblem, the maple leaf, gave its characteristic tinge to the receding
shores--a colour to be seen often on the field of battle, but never in
the foliage of a European landscape.
We were making history; the great epoch-making enterprise of our young
country was taking place--an undertaking that would go down in the
annals of the Empire of Great Britain as a great incident of the
period when the young cubs raced to the assistance of the old lion in
her hour of need--this we realized.
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