known as "guts." "Guts" or courage is an attitude of mind towards
calamity--an attitude of mind which makes the honourable accomplishing
of duty more permanently satisfying than the preservation of self. But
how did this vision come to these men? How did they rid themselves of
their civilian flabbiness and acquire it? These questions are best
answered autobiographically. Here briefly, is the story of the growth
of the vision within myself.

In August, 1914, three days after war had been declared, I sailed from
Quebec for England on the first ship that put out from Canada. The
trip had been long planned--it was not undertaken from any patriotic
motive. My family, which included my father, mother, sister and
brother, had been living in America for eight years and had never
returned to England together. It was the accomplishing of a dream
long cherished, which favourable circumstances and a sudden influx of
money had at last made possible. We had travelled three thousand miles
from our ranch in the Rockies before the war-cloud burst; obstinacy
and curiosity combined made us go on, plus an entirely British feeling
that by crossing the Atlantic during the crisis we'd be showing our
contempt for the Germans.

We were only informed that the ship was going to sail at the very last
moment, and went aboard in the evening. The word spread quickly among
the crews of other vessels lying in harbour; their firemen, keen to
get back to England and have a whack at the Huns, tried to board our
ship, sometimes by a ruse, more often by fighting. One saw some very
pretty fist work that night as he leant across the rail, wondering
whether he'd ever reach the other side. There were rumours of German
warships waiting to catch us in mid-ocean. Somewhere towards midnight
the would-be stowaways gave up their attempt to force a passage; they