Some two-and-a-half hours slipped by when a loud cheer rang out at the appearance of a train of crazy carriages which backed towards us.  The passengers scrambled in and made themselves as comfortable as they could.  But where was the baggage to go?  The soldiery had overlooked this item and they surveyed the straggling mass of bags and trunks littering the embankment ruefully.  But they solved the problem in their own way.  What could not be stacked within the trucks would have to go on top.

We forged ahead once more to pull up at a small station.  Here there was a mad scramble for supplies and the refreshment room was soon cleared out of its small stock.  On the platform an extortionate German drove a brisk trade selling small bottles of lemonade at sixpence a bottle.  More excitement was caused by a newsvendor mounting a box and holding aloft a single copy of the latest newspaper which he would sell to the highest bidder.

Being ignorant of what had transpired since I had left London I resolved to have that copy.  I scrambled over a pile of baggage and came within arm’s length of the newsvendor.  I threw down coins to the value of 2s. 8d., grabbed his paper and vanished before he could voice a protest.  I scrambled back to my car.  Here the paper was snatched from me to be read aloud to the expectant crowd thirsting for news.  There was a tense silence as the reader ran through the items until he gravely announced the latest intelligence—­Russia and Germany had declared war.  The news was official.  For a second a profound silence reigned.  Then there broke out a further outburst of wild, maniacal cheering, above which, however, could be heard hysterical screams and shrieks from women, especially from those bound for Russia, which they now realised they would never reach.

I saw at once that it was hopeless to get to my destination, as the Russo-German frontier was now closed.  But as it was quite as impossible to turn back I decided to push on to Berlin there to await events.  So far Britain was not involved and might even keep clear of the tangle.  This I might say was the general opinion on the train.  The remainder of the journey to the capital was now far more exciting, and the animated conversation served to while away the tedium of the slow travelling, although the latter part was completed in darkness, the train running into Berlin at 1.30 in the morning of August 3rd, the journey from Flushing having taken about 18 hours.

The platform at Berlin was overrun with officials of all sorts and descriptions, ranging from puny collectors to big burly fellows smothered with sufficient braid and decorations to pass as field-marshals.  But one and all seemed to be entrusted with swords too big for them which clanked and clattered in the most nerve-racking manner.  They strutted up and down the platform with true Prussian arrogance, jostling the fatigued, cursing the helpless who lounged in their path, ignoring the distress of the children,