since the war began and the germans undertook the drowning of women and children by the submarine method i have crossed the atlantic four times. two of these voyages were on troop transports. traveling on a transport is really a pleasure voyage, except for the military discipline, always a bit obnoxious to the anglo-saxon of the north american continent—but absolutely necessary if an army is the thing desired, not a mob. on a transport the food and sleeping quarters are all that anyone could desire in a time of war, and they satisfied all, from the veriest batman to the highest military officer whose duty it is to maintain discipline.

on my first transport experience we took the ship at an atlantic port some days before sailing, and no one knew the date or hour of our intended start except the first officer of the ship, who received his orders from the admiralty. our crowd was an immense one, made up of men from all the different departments of the army, and women who were either trained nurses, or members of the voluntary aid detachment, going overseas to do their bit in the hospitals or the convalescent and rest homes in england and france.

until the boat started on its voyage, dances were held nightly on the main deck, but once we put out to sea, the ship traveled in darkness. no one was permitted on the decks at night except the guards, and they were forbidden to smoke for fear of attracting attention that was not desirable.

we were not long away from land till a fairly heavy swell made some of the uninitiated sea voyagers feel all the pangs of that nauseating illness, mal de mer,—seasickness. one of the nurses sitting in a deck chair, looking away off over the swelling billows, said languidly: "if the germans torpedoed us now, i wouldn't even put on a life preserver." and another traveler, a tommy with a markedly jewish cast of countenance, as the ship took a more pronounced dip than heretofore, exclaimed loudly:

"my god! she's a submarine!" the usual sympathetic roar of laughter was the only solace that he received; but one of his pals who saw him leaning over the ship's side, giving an excellent dinner to the fishes, stepped up to him and, giving him a resounding slap on the shoulder, said:

"what's the matter, poor old ikey? are you seasick?"

"am i seasick?" ikey roared, glaring at him. "what da hell do ye tink i'm doin' dis for? for notting?"

we had not proceeded far on our voyage when a cast-iron order was issued that all must wear their life-belts at all hours of the day. and shortly, life-boat drill became a daily occurrence at irregular hours. a bugle call to drill would be given, a call that might be real for all that anyone knew, and each company, section, and unit took its apportioned part of the deck, to be inspected by the higher officers. life boats were kept conveniently hanging over the side of the ship for emergencies, and certain officers were detailed to each boat whose duty it was in case of mishap, to maintain order during the loading and launching of that boat. before long this drill was carried out with the most exact precision.

there were a few other parades daily for the different sections. a sick parade was held each morning, and a hospital established for those too sick to stay up and about. the medical officers and nurses were detailed in turn to do duty in this institution. but nothing of a very serious nature turned up on the voyage.

otherwise time was whiled away much as usual on shipboard. some of us took to the gymnasium, trying out all the exercises from throwing the medicine ball to riding the horse, at which some of the cavalry officers would give that excellent piece of advice to those beginning to learn to ride:

keep your head and your heart up,

your hands and your heels down;

keep your knees close to your horse's side,

and your elbows close to your own.

the regular stewards, who were serving on the ship as in peace times, amused themselves by telling tales that they were supposed to have heard in confidence from the wireless operator, and which they would whisper into your ears in a supposedly friendly manner at any and every opportunity. they were tales to the effect that just ahead of us last night such-and-such a ship was torpedoed and sunk by the germans with all on board, "and not a soul was saved." they would add that the germans had a most intense desire to get our boat; why, it was common talk in new york, so a friend had written to them, that a sub would get us this trip; "as a matter of fact, sir, betting is five to one that they will sink us." what a ghastly sense of humor some of those stewards have!

however, the days slipped by, and no one seemed to be at all worrying as to his or her safety. the last couple of days out from england the guns, fore and aft, were gotten ready for business, in case the hun dared to show the nose of his periscope in our neighborhood. eyes looked in all directions searching for the tell-tale trail of a torpedo, and, though many were called out, few chose to materialize. suddenly one morning someone spied out a couple of those fast, dangerous-looking torpedo boats which swung about, and crossed our bows, and thenceforth accompanied us like a pair of faithful bulldogs accompanying their master on horseback.

though no one had expressed a word of fear of the submarines, and no person, man or woman, on board had seemed to worry in the least as to the possible dangers from torpedoes, it was noticeable at once that a pressure or tension had been withdrawn. in the smoking room the hum of voices rose to a much higher pitch than it had attained during the previous twenty-four hours of the voyage, during which we had felt that a danger might lurk unseen about us. the gayety on deck became appreciably more merry. these torpedo boats accompanied us till we reached the safety of the harbor; and as we once again placed our feet upon the soil we felt that in war as in peace the end of a voyage is often the most welcome part of it.

but was it the end of the voyage? ah, no, it was but the beginning; because for the men there are many hard roads to travel ere they reach that which they set out to attain—a goal of peace and liberty for the small and the large nations, protected by the democracies of the old and the new world. and the women who accompanied us will soothe many a poor boy's pain or ease his troubled mind, and will write many a letter of comfort to his loved ones at home, ere they join us at that peaceful goal we all desire to reach.