EARLY DAYS 13 
embarked for France and were soon in action at Mailly-Maillet, 
near Albert. Soon afterwards we were engaged in the first battle 
of the Somme. One of those strange coincidences that may some- 
times affect the whole course of events in one’s life happened here. 
The Medical Officer posted to our brigade was a young doctor, 
Geoffrey M. Vevers. I never saw much of him for the simple rea- 
son that I was never sick, and as my battery was shifted shortly 
afterwards to do battle at Ypres, we never met again during the 
war. At that time he was just a young English doctor and I was 
merely a budding farmer from South Africa, and little did we 
think that our meeting in a French village was the seed of a friend- 
ship that would grow throughout the succeeding years, and that 
we should be closely connected in our postwar work. (From 1923- 
1948, Dr. G. M. Vevers was Superintendent of the London Zoo.) 
During two and a half years in France I was granted leave to 
England on two occasions only, each for ten days, and once a 
local leave of four days. These were the only occasions during this 
long period that I was out of the firing line except when we were 
changing position to another sector... . 
Exceptional conditions, whether good or bad, inevitably come to 
an end. When our troopship steamed into Table Bay in May, rg19, 
it seemed wonderful to be alive. The first glimpse of Table Moun- 
tain, the heliographs flashing messages from shore stations, the 
fishing boats and sea-birds, the glorious sunshine, and many other 
things that had been shut out of our lives for years, suddenly came 
upon us. A strange feeling of wonderment came over me. It was 
hard to realize that it was true and that all the horrors had been 
left behind. A great welcome awaited us. A march to the Drill 
Hall was arranged, someone made a speech, and we were given 
a glass of ginger beer and a bun! It was all over. 
Having been blown up, blown down, and gassed many times 
during the war, but never sufficiently mutilated to merit being 
shifted from the firing line, my nerves were in a poor state when 
I was-demobilized. The outlook was interesting—no job, a small 
gratuity, plus a willingness to have a go at anything. 
