but necessary part of all military evolutions. To entrain a Signal
Company sounds so simple. Here is the company--there is the train. But
first comes the man-handling of cable-carts on to trucks that were built
for the languid conveyance of perambulators. Then follows a little
horseplay, and only those who, like myself, regard horses as
unmechanical and self-willed instruments of war, know how terrifying a
sight and how difficult a task the emboxing of a company's horses can
be. Motor-cycles are heavy and have to be lifted, but they do not make
noises and jib and rear, and look every moment as if they were going to
fall backward on to the interested spectator.

We despatch riders fetched a great deal of straw and made ourselves
comfortable in one of those waggons that are marked outside, with such
splendid optimism--

_Chevaux_ . . . . 8
_Hommes_ . . . . 40-5

With our friend the Post-Sergeant and his underling there were roughly a
dozen of us and no superfluity of space, but, seeing men wandering
fiercely up and down the train under the command of our Sergeant-Major,
we took in a H.Q. clerk. This ruffled us, but it had to be done. The
Sergeant-Major came to our waggon. We stood at the door and pointed out
to him that we had in our waggon not only all the despatch riders, but
also the whole of the Postal and Headquarters Staffs. He said nothing to
us--only told ten more men to get in. Finally we were twenty-five in
all, with full equipment. Thinking of the 40-5 we settled down and
managed to effect a compromise of room which, to our amazement, left us
infinitely more comfortable than we had been in the III^{me} coming up
from Havre to Landrecies.