Antwerp to Gallipoli

This book is one Russian had said good by to a friend at the dock, he to try to get through this way, the other by the Pacific and Trans Siberian. The Englishman who shared my stateroom was an advertising man. There were several Belgians and a quartet of young Frenchmen who played cards every night and gravely drank bottle after bottle of champagne to the glory of France. Even the Balkans were with us, in the shape of a tall, soldier like Bulgarian with a heavy mustache and the eyes of a kindly and highly intelligent hawk. He was going back home "to fight?" "Yes, to fight. ".