The Intelligencer November 9, 1914 (pages 3, 7)
“Thousands cheered us as we proceeded to the wharf to disembark; bands played the Maple Leaf and Tipperary, our war songs, when we paraded through the streets of the city of Devonport. The people showered us with all kinds of things; the children grasping our hands, the girls and women hugged us–in fact nearly tore us to pieces; buttons, badges, etc., were taken and kept as souvenirs.
On all sides we could hear: “We’re so glad you’ve come”; “We have a brother, father, or cousin at the front”; “We hope you get back safe”; “Good luck to you,” etc.
And the boys–well, folks, they are all fine, and are patiently waiting for the day when we shall meet the Germans. Their only fear is that the war will be over before they get there. But I guess we will get there soon enough.
Was in conversation with one of the men who is home from the front recovering from a sabre slash. … He has been in Africa and India, and says, “Boys, the Boer War was a picnic to this one. I saw men go stark mad from witnessing the terrible carnage. It’s worse than hell. It’s beyond me. It’s simply artillery duels and cavalry charges, and the slaughter is terrible. … Yours very truly, Spafford.”