We left Duffield on the 15th of August, and marched to Derby Station.  Our train was timed to start at 11 p.m., and seeing that we arrived at Luton at 2 p.m. the next day, the rate of motion was about 6 miles an hour, not too fast for a train.  But the truth is we did not start at 11 p.m., but spent hours standing in the cattle yard at Derby, while trucks and guns were being arranged to fit one another.  As that was our first experience of such delay, the incident was impressed upon our minds, and it counts one to the number of bars we said our medal should have.

As in Loughborough, so in Luton, our billets were schools.  There was one advantage about the Beech Hill Schools of Luton, namely, that the whole battalion could assemble in the big room, sit on the floor, and listen in comfort to words of instruction and advice.  But day schools were not intended for lodging purposes, and here again was displayed Major Martin’s skill in the erection of cookhouses and more wash-tubs and other domestic essentials.  The moment we got settled, however happened to coincide with the moment at which the education branch of the Town Council determined that the future of a nation depended upon the education of her children, and thus it came to pass that on the 28th of August we moved out of the schools, and entered billets in West Luton.

The long rows of houses were admirably suited to company billets.  Occupiers dismantled the ground floor front and took in three, and generally four men at various rates.  On the 2nd of October a universal rate of 9d. a day each man was fixed.  That made twenty-one shillings a week towards paying off a rent which would average at the most twelve shillings.  The billets delighted us, and we hope the owners were as pleased.  We thank them and all we met in those billeting times for their kind forbearance.

The headquarters and billets of senior officers were at Ceylon Hall.  The building was owned by the Baptists, and we found their committee most willing and obliging.  On one occasion they lent us their chapel and organ for a Sunday service, and set their own service at a time to suit ours, when churches in the town could not help us.

Altogether we were in Luton just 3 months training for war.  To a great extent the training was on ordinary lines.  A routine was followed, and all routines become dull and wearisome.  We had been asked to go abroad, we had expressed our willingness to go.  This willingness grew into a desire, which at intervals expressed itself in petulant words of longing—­“Are we ever going to France?” The answer was always the same:  “You will go soon enough, and you will stay long enough.”  This increased our irritation.  Suddenly, on one still and dark November day, parade was sharply cancelled, we clad ourselves in full marching order, there was just a moment to scrawl on a postcard a few last words home, tender words were exchanged with our friends in the billets, and with heavy tread and in solemn silence we marched forth along the Bedford Road.  There was a pillar box beside the road.  It was only the leading companies that could put the farewell card actually in the box, for it was quickly crowded out, and in the end the upper portion of the red pillar was visible standing on a conical pile of postcards.