As he made his way home to Butler’s Cove that Sunday night in late August of 1914, Andrew’s thoughts were of his mother and of her reaction to his decision to volunteer for what many were calling, “The war to end all war”. The call to arms sent to every nook and cranny of The British Empire had come from no less a personage than King George V himself.  Andrew and three of his friends had made the decision as they walked the roads of Emervale, after attending Evensong at the local Anglican Church. In his sermon that night, the Vicar had spoken of Newfoundland’s strong ties to the Mother country and of his certainty that many young men from the Dominion would answer his Majesty’s call.  Britain, had declared war on Germany a little more than two weeks earlier, on August 14 and most expected it would be over in less than a year, some even thought they would be home by Christmas. For the nineteen year old and his friends, there was excitement as well as loyalty, for none had  travelled far from the small outport where they had been born and even the country’s Capital city St. John’s, to which they would be travelling later that week might well prove to be a cultural shock itself.

At home his mother cried when he told her of his intention, but she was not surprised knowing that he would want to do the right thing. His father meanwhile although concerned for his son’ safety, could not conceal his pride, while his thirteen year old brother Peter, listened wide eyed, wishing he was four years older.  In 1914, there were just three families in Butler’s Cove,   they consisted of Andrews parents and his two older brothers Samuel and Archibald and their wives and young children. Amid hugs and tears from his mother and hardy handshakes from his father and brothers,  Andrew left on Wednesday morning, for the trek to Emervale where he would join his buddies for the trip to St. John’s and from there to the United Kingdom for  a  few weeks of basic training before being sent to fight in Gallipoli and later in the trenches and battlefields of France. They arrived in St. John’s to find themselves joined by hundreds of  other young men from the remote coves, harbours, tickles, arms  and bights that lined the often frigid coastlines of Newfoundland and Labrador.  Most were filled with the excitement of the day but beneath it all there were those who wondered if they would ever see their native land again.