Land appeared in rugged outline along the horizon as the Steamship Morvada swept the waves when dusk was falling on the Tuesday evening of July 16th, 1918. It was a beautiful mid-summer’s night and the boys of Battery D, in common with the members of the 311th regiment, stood at the deck railings of the S. S. Morvada and watched the outline of shore disappear under cover of darkness. The ship had been sailing since 11:30 a. m., Sunday, July 14th, at which time the Morvada had lifted anchor and slowly pushed its nose into the Delaware River; leaving behind the Philadelphia & Reading Railroad docks at Port Richmond, Philadelphia, Penna., the last link that held them to their native shores.

Surmises and guesses were rife as the ship rolled on in the darkness, leaving the boys either arguing as to the destination or else seeking their “bunk” down in the “hatch” and rolling in for the night.

It was generally agreed that the course thus far was along the coast. It was apparent that the ship was skirting coastline, because convoy protection had been given by sea-planes flying out from the naval coast stations, accompanying the transport for a distance, then disappearing landward. The boys on the transport spent many an idle hour watching the aviators circle the ship time and time again, often coming within voice range of the transport’s passengers.

It was also settled that the course had been Northeast, but no one was quite certain as to location.

The morning of July 17th found the Morvada approaching land. A lighthouse appeared in the dim distance, then, as the hours passed and the ship sped on, the coast became visible and more visible, disclosing rugged country, rising high from out of the water’s edge. The country, moreover, appeared waste and devastated; the land being covered with wrecked buildings that showed signs of explosive force.

Location finally became apparent as harbor scenes presented an unique picturesqueness of territory. The S. S. Morvada was in Halifax harbor, Nova Scotia, and the surrounding territory was the scene of the famous T. N. T. explosion. It was 11 o’clock on the morning of July 17th that the ship cast anchor in Halifax harbor and word was passed that all on board could remove life preservers and breathe a sigh of relief.

To be suddenly found in Canadian environment furnished a new thrill for the soldiers. The Saturday night previous the same soldiers were making the trip from Camp Meade to port of embarkation.

Everybody was expecting a lay over in an embarkation camp before embarking, therefore the surprise was the greater when the train that left Camp Meade at midnight on the evening of July 13th, deposited its cargo of soldiers on the pier at Port Richmond within a short distance of the ship that was waiting for its cargo of human freight before pulling anchor for the first lap of the France-bound journey.

Orders to detrain were given at 8:29 a. m. Tired and hungry the soldiers were greeted on the pier by a large delegation of Red Cross workers who had steaming hot coffee, delicious buns, cigarettes and candy to distribute to the regiment as a farewell tribute and morning appetizer. Postal cards were also distributed for the soldiers to address to their home-folks. The messages were farewell messages and were held over at Washington. D. C., until word was received that the Morvada had landed safely overseas.

At 8 a. m. the repeat-your-last-name-first-and-your-first-name-last march up the gang-plank started. Each man got a blue card with a section and berth number on; also a meal ticket appended, after which it was a scramble to find your right place in the hatch.

At 11:30 o’clock anchor was lifted; the little river tug boat nosed the steamship about; then, with colors flying, the band playing, the Morvada steamed down the Delaware; passing Hog Island in a midway of ships from which words of farewell and waves of good-bye wafted across to the Morvada. The sky-line of Brotherly Love, guarded over by William Penn on City Hall, gradually faded from view and the Sunday afternoon wore on, as the boys spent most of their first day aboard a transport on deck, watching the waves and admiring the beauties of nature, revealed in all splendor as the ever-fading shore line, viewed from the promenade deck, lost itself into the mist-like horizon of sky and water, richly enhanced by the brilliancy of a superb sunset.

The S. S. Morvada skirted the shore for some time and for the first few hours all was calm on deck. By night, however, sea-sickness began to manifest itself and there was considerable coughing up over the rail.

Besides watching the waves and the various-sized and colored fishes of the deep make occasional bounds over the crest of the foam, the soldiers spent their time trying to get something to eat, which was a big job in itself.

The Morvada was an English boat, of small type, that was built in 1914 to ply between England and India, carrying war materials. The voyage of the 311th was the second time the Morvada was used as a transport. Except for officer personnel the ship was manned by a crew of East Indians, whose main article of wearing apparel was a towel and whose main occupation was scrubbing and flushing the decks with a hose, just about the time mess call found the soldiers looking for a nice spot to settle down with mess-kit and eating-irons. Up forward were batteries B, D, E, and F, and the Supply Company, and aft were Headquarters Company, Battery C, and the Medical Detachment. Each end of the ship had its galley along which the mess lines formed three times a day. The khaki-clad soldiers could not get used to the English system of food rationing with the result that food riots almost occurred until the officers of the regiment intervened and secured an improvement in the mess system.

The first night in Halifax harbor was a pleasant relief from the strain of suspense that attended the journey to Canadian waters. Deck lights were lighted for the first time and vied for brilliancy in the night with the other ocean-going craft assembled in the harbor. The Morvada did not dock, but remained anchored in the harbor, from where the soldiers on board could view the city and port of entry that was the capital of the Province of Nova Scotia.

To the Southeast the city of Halifax, situated on a fortified hill, towering 225 feet from the waters of the harbor, showed its original buildings built of wood, plastered or stuccoed; and dotted with fine buildings of stone and brick of later day creation.

When the soldiers on board the Morvada arose on the morning of July 18th the Halifax harbor was dotted with several more transports that had arrived during the night. The day was spent in semaphoring to the various transports and learning what troops each quartered. Official orders, however, put a stop to this form of pastime and discussion was shifted to the whys and wherefores of the various camouflage designs the troop ships sported.

During the stay at Halifax the first taste of mail censorship was doled out. Letters were written in abundance, which were treated rather roughly by two-edged scissors before the mail was conveyed to Halifax to be sent to Washington, D. C., to await release upon notification that the Morvada had arrived safely overseas. Many of these first letters are still held as priceless mementos by the home-folks.

Each morning of the succeeding days that the Morvada was anchored in Halifax harbor brought several new ships to cluster about in the wide expanse of water. A sufficient number for convoy across the Atlantic was gradually assembling, each ship appearing in a different regalia of protective coloration that made the harbor sight vastly spectacular.

Newspapers from the Canadian shore were brought on board each day. On July 19th the papers conveyed the information that the United States Cruiser, San Diego, was sunk that day ten miles off Fire Island by running on an anchored mine placed there by German U-boats. The Morvada had traversed the same course several days previous.

To read of such occurrence, in such environment was to produce silent thought. To be in the harbor of Halifax, within shadow of McNalis Island that rested on the waves at the mouth of the harbor, was to be in the same environment as the confederate cruiser, “Tallahassee,” which slipped by night through the Eastern passage formed by McNalis Island, and escaped the Northern vessels that were watching off the western entrance formed by the island.

The time was drawing near when the Morvada was destined to creep stealthily through the night, to cross the 3,000 miles of submarine infested Atlantic.