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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>A NAVAL VENTURE</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="A Naval Venture" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="T. T. Jeans" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1917" /> -<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="Frank Gillett" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="45960" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2014-06-13" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="A Naval Venture The War Story of an Armoured Cruiser" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="A Naval Venture The War Story of an Armoured Cruiser" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="naval.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2014-06-13T21:51:28.117551+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45960" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="T. T. Jeans" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="Frank Gillett" name="MARCREL.ill" /> -<meta content="2014-06-13" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="a-naval-venture"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">A NAVAL VENTURE</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: A Naval Venture -<br /> The War Story of an Armoured Cruiser -<br /> -<br />Author: T. T. Jeans -<br /> -<br />Release Date: June 13, 2014 [EBook #45960] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>A NAVAL VENTURE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 66%" id="figure-64"> -<span id="aim-low-sonny-aim-low-you-will-see-your-bullet-splashes"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""AIM LOW, SONNY! AIM LOW. YOU WILL SEE YOUR BULLET-SPLASHES"" src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"AIM LOW, SONNY! AIM LOW. YOU WILL SEE YOUR BULLET-SPLASHES"</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">A Naval Venture</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">The War Story of an -<br />Armoured Cruiser</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">FLEET-SURGEON T. T. JEANS, R.N.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">Author of "Gunboat and Gun-runner" -<br />"John Graham, Sub-Lieutenant, R.N." -<br />"Ford of H.M.S. Vigilant" -<br />&c.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Illustrated by Frank Gillett, R.I.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED -<br />LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY -<br />1917</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Preface</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In this book I have endeavoured to write a -gun-room tale which will give a general impression of -the part played by the Royal Navy during the -Dardanelles operations, and of gun-room life under these -conditions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In writing it I have been greatly assisted by many -shipmates—officers, petty officers, and men—who -have been employed away from the ship, on various -occasions, either on shore or in steamboats, tugs, or -motor-lighters. From their accounts it has been -possible to bring into the book descriptions of some -interesting incidents and operations which did not -come under my personal observation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My thanks are due, more especially, to Lieutenant -H. A. D. Keate, R.N., and to Lieutenant V. E. Kemball, -R.N., of this ship, who have read laboriously -through the manuscript as it progressed, corrected -many errors of fact and detail, and suggested very -many improvements to the story as a whole.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>T. T. JEANS, -<br />Fleet-Surgeon, R.N.</span></p> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span>H.M.S. </span><em class="italics">SWIFTSURE</em><span>,</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><em class="italics">27th April, 1916.</em></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Contents</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-achates-goes-to-sea">The "*Achates*" goes to Sea</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-gun-room-of-the-achates">The Gun-Room of the "*Achates*"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#ordered-to-the-mediterranean">Ordered to the Mediterranean</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-bombardment-of-smyrna-forts">The Bombardment of Smyrna Forts</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-achates-is-shelled">The "*Achates*" is Shelled</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-night-s-adventure">A Night's Adventure</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#off-to-the-dardanelles">Off to the Dardanelles</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-landing-on-gallipoli">The Landing on Gallipoli</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-river-clyde">The "River Clyde"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-night-attack">A Night Attack</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-beach-party">The Beach Party</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#off-cape-helles">Off Cape Helles</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-army-comes-to-a-standstill">The Army comes to a Standstill</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#submarines-appear">Submarines Appear</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-peaceful-month">A Peaceful Month</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-glorious-picnic">A Glorious Picnic</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-cutting-out-expedition">A "Cutting-out" Expedition</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#bombarding-at-suvla-bay">Bombarding at Suvla Bay</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-army-again-comes-to-a-standstill">The Army again comes to a Standstill</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#hard-work-at-mudros">Hard Work at Mudros</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-evacuation-of-suvla-bay">The Evacuation of Suvla Bay</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-terrible-night">A Terrible Night</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#in-dug-outs-at-cape-helles">In "Dug-outs" at Cape Helles</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-evacuation-of-cape-helles">The Evacuation of Cape Helles</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-achates-returns-to-malta">The "*Achates*" Returns to Malta</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Illustrations</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#aim-low-sonny-aim-low-you-will-see-your-bullet-splashes">"'Aim low, sonny! Aim low! You will see your -bullet-splashes'"</a><span> . . . Frontispiece</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-gunnery-lieutenant-now-flew-about-jumping-from-voice-pipes-to-range-finder-and-back-again">"The Gunnery Lieutenant now flew about, jumping -from voice pipes to range-finder and back again"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-lamp-post-jumped-up-seized-the-box-hoisted-it-on-his-shoulder-and-disappeared-ahead">"The Lamp-post jumped up, seized the box, hoisted -it on his shoulder, and disappeared ahead"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#look-what-an-extraordinary-ship">"'Look! what an extraordinary ship!'"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#screened-lanterns">"Screened lanterns!"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-gun-room-court-martial-on-the-china-doll">The Gun-room Court Martial on the China Doll</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#sketch-map-of-gallipoli-and-the-dardanelles">Sketch Map of Gallipoli and the Dardanelles</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-achates-goes-to-sea"><span class="bold x-large">A NAVAL VENTURE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The "</span><em class="bold italics large">Achates</em><span class="bold large">" goes to Sea</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On one miserably wet and cheerless afternoon of -February, 1915, the picket-boat of H.M.S. </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -lay alongside the King's Stairs at Portsmouth -Dockyard, whilst her crew, with their boat-hooks, kept her -from bumping herself against the lowest steps. The -rain trickled down their glistening oilskins, and dark, -angry clouds sweeping up from behind Gosport Town -on the opposite side of the harbour, and scudding -overhead, one after the other, in endless battalions, -made it certain that a south-westerly gale was raging -in the Channel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the top of the steps, with his back to the wind -and rain, his feet wide apart, and his hands in his -pockets, was the midshipman of the boat, in oilskin, -sou'wester, and sea-boots. This was Mr. Vincent -Orpen—commonly known as the Orphan—not very -tall, but sturdy and broad-shouldered in his bulky -oilskins. Between the brim of his dripping sou'wester -and his turned-up collar showed a pair of very -humorous eyes, a determined-looking nose and -mouth, and a pair of large ears reddened by the cold -and rain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was waiting to take the Captain—Captain -Donald Macfarlane—off to Spithead, where the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> lay, ready for sea, but this absent-minded -officer had very probably forgotten the time or place -where the boat was to meet him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Near by, taking shelter in the lee of the signalman's -shelter-box, the marine postman and a massive, -friendly dockyard policeman were standing with the -rain dripping off them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the midshipman splashed across to them -and spoke to the postman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Captain did say King's Stairs; didn't he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"King's Stairs at two o'clock, sir; I heard him -myself; King's Stairs at two o'clock, and it's now -past the half-hour. He was only a-going up to the -Admiral's office, he said; just time for me to slip -outside to the post office and back again, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down below, in the picket-boat, Jarvis, the coxswain, -an old, bearded petty officer—a Naval Reserve -man—was grumbling to one of the crew: "The Cap'n -can't never remember nothink—he'll forget hisself one -o' these fine days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This ain't a fine day," the young A.B.—Plunky -Bill—answered cheekily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stow it! I'll give yer 'fine day' when we gets -aboard: I knows it ain't. We'll get a fair -dusting-down going out to Spithead, and a good many of you -youngsters'll wish you'd never come to sea when we -gets out in the Channel to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I 'opes we ain't going back to the mine-bumping -'bizz' in the North Sea, a-waiting for to be -terpadoed," Plunky Bill said presently, viciously -shoving the picket-boat's dancing stern off the wall with -his dripping boat-hook.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's about our job," growled Jarvis. "Better -blow up yer swimmin'-collar when you gets aboard, -and tie it around yer bloomin' neck."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A precious lot of good they collars be—with -sea-boots and oilskins on, and the water as cold as -charity."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nobody's askin' you to wear it. When you feels -you wants to drown, quick, just 'and it over to me—I -don't. Dare say you ain't got no one to miss yer; -I 'ave—a missus and six kids," growled the coxswain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then the trap hatch of the stokehold flapped up, -and out of the small square opening emerged the bare -head of the stoker of the picket-boat—an old, -grey-headed Naval Reserve man, who actually wore gold -spectacles, the effect of which on his coal-begrimed -face was very quaint. He looked round him in a -patient, dignified manner, and sniffed at the wind and -rain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a shout from the top of the steps, and -Mr. Orpen, with his hands to his mouth, called down: -"Keep out of the rain, Fletcher—don't be an ass!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man did not hear; but one of the boat's -crew for'ard bawled out to him: "'Ere, close down -yer blooming 'atch—chuck it, grandpa—shut yer face -in—the Orphan's a-singing out to yer—'e's nuts on -yer 'ealth, 'e is." The old stoker, wiping his -rain-spotted spectacles, meekly obeyed, pulled the hatch -over his head, and disappeared from view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the postman, with his big, leather letter-bag, -clattered down, splashing the puddles on the steps. -"The Cap'n's coming at last," he said, and stowed -himself away under the fore peak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down came Mr. Orpen, jumped aboard, and took -the steering-wheel. A moment later, and after him -came the tall, gaunt figure of the Captain, the rain -trickling off the gold oak-leaves on the peak of his -cap, dripping off his long, thin nose and running -down his yellowish-red moustache and pointed beard. -His greatcoat was glistening with raindrops, and his -trousers beneath it were soaked and sticking to his -thin shins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I forgot to bring my waterproof," he said. "I'm -not late, am I?" and nodding cheerfully, he stepped -into the boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Orpen saluted. "Shall I carry on, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain nodded again; Jarvis shouted out -orders; the boat's bows were shoved off, the engines -thumped, and the picket-boat, starting on her stormy -passage to Spithead, bumped the steps with her stern—the -last time, had she known it, that she would ever -touch England.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The crew dived down below under the fore peak -and shut the hatch on top of them, for they knew well -what was coming. It came right enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Directly the picket-boat left the shelter of the -harbour mouth she began to reel and stagger as she -steamed along Southsea beach, past the ends of the -deserted piers, with the sea on her beam, washing over -her and jostling her. Then she turned round the -Spit Buoy, and head on to the wind and rain, plunged -her way through the short seas, diving and lifting, -throwing up clouds of spray which smacked loudly -against the oilskins of the midshipman at the wheel -and the coxswain hanging on by his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As one wave came over the bows, rushed aft along -the engine-room sides and swirled round their feet, -and its spray, tossed up by the fo'c'sle gun-mounting -and by the funnel, covered them from head to foot, -Jarvis roared: "Better ease her a bit, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Orphan was enjoying himself hugely. He -knew the old boat; he knew exactly what she could -"stand", and he was not going to ease down until it -was absolutely necessary, or until Captain Macfarlane -made him; and the Captain was still sitting in the -stern-sheets, tugging, absent-mindedly, at his pointed -yellow beard, apparently having forgotten where he -was, and that if only he went into the cabin he could -keep dry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat throbbed and trembled and shook -herself, butted into a wave which seemed to bring her -up "all standing", swept through it or over it, then -charged into another; and as the battered remnants of -the waves flung themselves in the Orphan's face and -smacked loudly against his oilskins he only grinned, -shook his head, and peered ahead from beneath the -turned-down brim of his sou'wester.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jarvis, the coxswain, was not enjoying himself. -He hated getting wet—that meant "a bout of -rheumatics", and he had a "missus and six kids".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gradually the picket-boat fought her way out to the -black-and-white chequered mass of the Spit Fort, until -the four funnels and long, grey hull of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -showed through the rain squalls beyond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A solitary steamboat, on her way ashore, came -rushing towards them—a smother of foam, smoke, and -spray; and as she staggered past, only a few yards -away, with the following seas surging round her stern, -Orpen waved a hand to the solitary figure in glistening -oilskins at her wheel—a midshipman "pal" of his -from another ship—who waved back cheerily and -disappeared to leeward as a squall swept down between -the two boats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A nice little trip he'll have, off, sir—if he don't -come back soon," the coxswain shouted when the last -wave's spray had run off the brim of his sou'wester -and he'd caught his breath. "It's breezin' up every -minute, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once past the Spit Fort, the picket-boat was in -deeper water; the seas became longer, not so steep, -and she took them more easily. Orpen needed only -one hand now to keep her on her course, and in ten -minutes he steered her under the stern of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, -and brought her alongside the starboard quarter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain, dripping with water, jumped on the -foot of the ladder as a wave swung the picket-boat's -stern close to it. Half-way up the ladder a sudden -humorous thought struck him, and, bending down, -he called out: "You did not ease down all the time, -did you, Mr. Orpen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir," Orpen sang back, grinning with the -happiness of everything. He didn't worry in the -least—so long as the Captain didn't mind—that he had, -by forcing his boat through the seas, wetted him to the -skin, and kept him wet for the last twenty minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The officer of the watch shouted "Hook on!" and -the picket-boat was hauled ahead under the main -derrick, until the big hook dangling from the -"purchase" swung above the boat. The crew made the -bow and stern lines fast; Fletcher, the old stoker, -drew himself up on deck and lowered the funnel, -steam roared away from the "escape"; one seaman -struggled with the ring of the boat's slings, holding -it chest-high; another waited his opportunity, when a -wave lifted the picket-boat, to seize the big hook -hanging above him; the ring was slipped over it; the -midshipman waved his hand and shouted; the slings -tautened as the order "up purchase and topping lift" -was given; a last wave lopped over the bows, and -with a jerk she was hoisted clear of the water and -quickly swung inboard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up on the quarter-deck the Captain was talking to -the Commander—a wiry little man with a weather-beaten -face and a grim, hard mouth. "Same old job, -sir?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain nodded ruefully. "It's all the poor -old </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> is fit for."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're pretty well soaked, sir. Rather a wet -passage off?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I forgot to go into the cabin," the Captain laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're ready for sea, sir. I shortened in, as you -were rather late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was I?" the Captain's eyes twinkled. "Right -you are! I'll be up again in a minute. I must get into -dry things, or the Fleet Surgeon will be on my -tracks"—and he disappeared below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In half an hour the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> was under way and -steaming out into the Channel and the gale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This ended her week's "rest"—the second "rest" -since the war broke out, six months before. Now she -was off again to the North Sea, with its constant gales, -its mine-fields, its enemy submarines, and the grim -delight of frequent hurried coalings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not a very pleasing prospect.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-gun-room-of-the-achates"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Gun-room of the "Achates"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Having seen his picket-boat safely landed in her -crutches on the booms, the Orphan dived down below -to the gun-room to dry himself in front of the blazing -stove there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gun-room was a long, untidy place on the starboard -side of the main-deck, just for'ard of the after -6-inch-gun casemate. A long table, covered with a -red cloth, of the usual Service pattern, and rather more -than usually torn and stained with grease, occupied -most of the deck space, and was now laden with plates, -cups and saucers, and, down the middle, in one -gorgeous line, tins of jam, loaves of bread, fat pats of -butter, and slabs of splendidly indigestible cake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Long benches, covered with leather cushions, were -fixed each side of it, whilst a few chairs, in various -stages of decay, were drawn up round the stove and -the upset copper coal-box. The after bulkhead of -this sumptuous abode was occupied by midshipmen's -lockers—rows of them one above the other—and from -the half-open locker doors peeped boots and books, -woollen helmets, sweaters, and safety waistcoats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Along the foremost bulkhead was a corticine-covered -sideboard with drawers for knives, forks, and spoons, -cupboards for bottles, and a cosy gap for a barrel of -beer. Above the sideboard, at either end of it, there -were two little sliding-doors in the bulkhead, for the -plates and food to be passed in from the pantry beyond, -and for the dirty plates to be passed out. Between -these two sliding-hatches, pictures of beautiful ladies -taken from the last Christmas Number of the Sketch -had been gummed on to the bare expanse of -dirty-white paint, and gave an air of brightness and -refinement to an otherwise somewhat depressing interior.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The outer bulkhead—the outer side—the ship's -side—had been white—once. Along it were five scuttles, -at present closely screwed up, and the tail ends of -waves occasionally swished angrily across them. In -the spaces between these scuttles, war maps, most of -them torn and ragged, had been pasted to the iron-work, -and one or two pin-flags still managed to hold -fast, though the vast array that had once fluttered -across them had long since disappeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At each end of the inner bulkhead was a door -leading out into the "half-deck", and between them were -more lockers, the roaring, smoking stove, its brass -chimney, and the upset coal-box. Behind the brass -chimney hung a tattered green-baize notice-board on -which were pinned a few dusty long-forgotten -gun-room orders; whilst from hooks above it hung a cheap -alarum clock and five damaged wrist-watches, each in -its strap, and each labelled with an official report of -the "scrap" during which it had met its honourable -fate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Newspapers and magazines littered untidily the -corticine-covered deck; a gramophone box, a couple -of greatcoats, and a green cricket bag lay piled in one -corner near the lockers; some sextant boxes and two -pairs of sea-boots filled another.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Overhead, between the deck beams, wooden battens -were fixed, and above them squeezed a motley -assortment of greatcoats, golf-bags, cricket pads, and -oilskins. Almost anywhere in the gun-room you could -put up your hand without looking, and pull down an -oilskin or a greatcoat, which, of course, was most -convenient, unless you pulled down half a dozen -golf-clubs on your head at the same time, when naturally -the convenience was not so noticeable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the Orphan came in, throwing his wet sou-wester -and oilskin into the corner on top of the gramophone -box, the only other gun-room officer there was -the "China Doll"—the Assistant Clerk. Only just -"caught" he was, a very youthful young gentleman -of, so far, unblemished reputation, with a pink-and-white -face, and a trick of opening and shutting his -very big and very blue eyes so exactly like a doll that -he had been christened "China Doll" directly he had -joined the Honourable Mess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was engaged busily toasting bread in front of -the stove with the long gun-room toasting-fork, and -this was probably his most important duty on board—the -duty of making toast for seven-bell tea; the first -piece for the Sub-lieutenant, the second for the senior -snotty, and the third for that very senior officer—his -very senior officer—the Clerk—Uncle Podger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had just finished the first piece as the Orphan -entered, and looked up, blinking his eyes excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the news, Orphan? Did the Captain tell -you what we're going to do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Late again, China Doll; five minutes after seven -bells, and only one piece of toast ready; you'll catch it -when the others come along."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of his protests the Orphan grabbed that -piece of toast, buttered it and began eating it, standing -in front of the stove whilst the China Doll hurriedly -began to toast another slice, between the Orphan's -legs, and implored him for news of where the ship -was going, and what she was to do. But the Orphan -was much too busy eating to take any notice; and just -as the first slice disappeared and he was licking his -fingers, he heard a clattering of sea-boots down the -ladder from the deck, and as four dripping snotties -poured in, he seized the toasting-fork, pushed the -China Doll on one side, and calmly finished toasting -the second slice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These four new-comers were the "Pink Rat", -"Bubbles", the "Hun", and Rawlins. The Pink -Rat was the senior snotty—a small-sized youngster -whom anyone could spot as the Pink Rat, because he -had a thin, sharp, ferrety-looking face, very pink -complexion, beady eyes, prominent teeth, and long -mouse-coloured hair brushed straight back from his forehead -and plastered down with grease. Bubbles was half as -big again as the Pink Rat, with a fat, red, honest face, -creased with continual chuckling, and a fat, red neck -which always seemed to swell over his collars. He -had something wrong with his nose, and couldn't -breathe through it very well, so that when he was -laughing—he generally was—he used to throw his head -back, open his mouth to breathe, and make the most -extraordinary bubbling noises. The Hun, the third -to enter, looked a very gentle snotty, very refined and -quiet—quiet, that is, compared with the others. He -was not big or strong; but when he once was "roused" -he would always join the weaker side in a "scrap", -and then became so violently excited that whatever he -gripped he gripped with all his might—like a wild -cat. He had nearly choked Bubbles once; and the -Pink Rat never forgot how, at another time, he had -nearly pulled out a handful of his hair. He always -apologized afterwards. Rawlins, whose proper name -was Rawlinson—the last of these four—was a brawny -youth with an odd hatchet-shaped head, quite as -good-natured as Bubbles, and the least talkative -member of the Honourable Mess. He was always willing -to look out for a pal's "watch" or boat duty, in itself -enough to make anyone very popular.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pink Rat, Bubbles, and Rawlins, seeing no -toast waiting for them, dashed at the China Doll, -charged him into a corner, threw their wet oilskins -over him, and fell in a heap on top.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Toast must be ready!" they yelled as they allowed -him to get up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't make it fast enough when the Orphan's -here, alone; look at him—that's his second."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan had just taken a huge bite out of the -new piece; with a rush they threw themselves on -him; in the mêlée of feet, legs, and chairs the China -Doll captured the toasting-fork, stuck another bit of -bread on it, and crouched in front of the fire again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The general scramble was terminated by the noise -of the pantry hatch sliding back, and an enormous, -purple-faced marine servant, in his shirt-sleeves, -pushed in a big teapot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along, Barnes, cut us some more bread; -open a tin of 'sharks'; where've you put my biscuits?" -they called at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time the third piece of toast was done to a -turn; and the Pink Rat, in the absence of the Sub, on -watch, was just going to claim it, when in came Uncle -Podger—the Clerk—a broad-shouldered, squat youth, -with a breezy, cheery countenance, and ruffled hair, -who had been promoted to the exalted rank of Clerk -exactly three weeks before, and had, therefore, been -just a year and three weeks in the Service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His arrival was greeted with shouts of "Uncle -Podger, your minion is slack again at the toast -business. The China Doll must be beaten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Assistant Clerk dodged the Pink Rat and -wriggled free, squealing out that this piece was for the -Sub.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He'll beat me if it isn't ready. He'll be down -from the bridge in a minute," he laughed, and took -shelter behind his superior officer, explaining that -"he'd done one for the Sub, and the Orphan ate that; -another for the Pink Rat, and the Orphan had eaten -that too; the Sub must have this, mustn't he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then this is the third," Uncle Podger said with -mock gravity. "You were wrong, my young -subordinate, very wrong indeed, to give away those other -pieces; this one is mine." He gently removed the -beautifully browned bread from the prongs of the fork.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—sir," said the China Doll, dropping his -eyelids and pretending to be very humble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the King's Regulations and Gun-room Instructions, -there can be no doubt about it, can there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No—sir; no possible doubt whatever—no -possible, probable, possible doubt whatever."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Clerk, glaring majestically at his subordinate -officer's familiarity, promptly proceeded to butter and -then to eat the slice; whilst the others, crowding round -the stove with bits of bread on the ends of knives, -tried their best to toast them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Sub did come in—a man of medium -height, shoulders broader than Uncle Podger's, a -complexion tanned by exposure to the wind and rain, -black hair over a broad forehead, thick black eyebrows -over deep-set grey eyes which had a knack of looking -through and through anyone he spoke to, a thin -Roman nose with a bridge that generally had a bit of -the skin off (the remains of his last "scrap"), firm upper -lip, a tremendous lower jaw, and a neck like a bull. -He came in with his swaggering gait and aggressive -shoulders, unbuttoning his dripping oilskin and -roaring loudly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What ho! without! bring hither the toasted -crumpet, the congealed juice of the cow, and we will -toy with them anon! Varlets, disrobe me, for I am -weary with much watching."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hast a savoury dish prepared for me, you -pen-driving incubus, you blot on the landscape?" he -roared again at the China Doll, who stood with eyes -opening and shutting and mouth wide open, watching -two of the snotties hauling off the Sub's oilskin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's my toast?" he roared ferociously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here, sir," and the Assistant Clerk patted the -Orphan's stomach, and fled for safety to the ship's -office, where he knew he would be safe from instant -death, because the Fleet Paymaster, though he would -"scrap" with anyone, at any time, anywhere else, -would not allow any skylarking there; nor would the -stern Chief Writer, whose sanctum it was; and they -had to keep friends with the Chief Writer, or never -a pen-nib or a piece of blotting-paper would they get -when they ran short of these things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two more snotties came into the gun-room after -the China Doll had escaped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These were the "Lamp-post" and the "Pimple", -the tallest and the shortest in the Mess—the Pimple a -little chap with a broad flat face, and a tiny red nose -in the middle of it. He was the Navigator's "doggy", -and that communicative and ingenious officer was -always giving him the latest news—news which he, -more often than not, invented himself. The joy of -the Pimple's existence was to have some "news" to -tell the others. He was a bully in a very small way, -and extremely deferential to the Sub and the -ward-room officers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post was a tall, stooping snotty with -sloping shoulders; his clothes were always too small -for him, and his long thin arms and legs were always -in his own way and in that of everyone else. Set -him down at a piano and he was marvellous; the joy -of his life was to be asked to play the ward-room -piano. He could play anything he had ever heard; -and inside his aristocratic head were more brains than -the rest of the snotties possessed between them, the -only one who did not know that being himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The whole of the Honourable Mess—with the exception -of the escaped China Doll—being now assembled, -seven-bell tea pursued its usual course—a cross -between a picnic and a dog-fight—until the bugle -sounded "man and arm ship", and there was a -hurried scramble for oilskins and caps as all, except -Uncle Podger, dashed away to their stations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ship had now cleared the Isle of Wight and -felt the force of the gale. She began to pitch and -roll heavily as the heavy seas threw themselves -against her starboard bow and rushed along her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A minute or two after the "man and arm ship" -bugle had sounded, the China Doll strolled jauntily -in and started afresh with his afternoon tea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When you, Mr. Assistant Clerk, have served as -long as I have," commenced Uncle Podger gravely, -"you may perhaps learn to realize that cheeking -your seniors is punishable by death, or such other -punishment as is hereinafter mentioned."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pass us the sugar, Podgy, there's a good chap," -grinned that very insubordinate officer, as a lurch of -the ship threw the sugar-basin into the Clerk's lap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Man and arm ship" having passed off satisfactorily, -the ship went to "night defence" stations, and -the bugle sounded "darken ship".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barnes, the purple-faced marine servant, still in his -shirt-sleeves, came in and solemnly closed down the -dead-lights, screwing the steel plates over the glass -scuttles, and then proceeded to clear away the debris -of seven-bell tea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most of the snotties now trooped down from the -upper deck to warm themselves round the stove.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="ordered-to-the-mediterranean"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Ordered to the Mediterranean</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Up above, under the fore bridge, the Orphan, looking -like an undersized elephant, with all his warm clothes -under his oilskins, tramped from port to starboard, -and back again round the conning-tower. The crews -of his four 6-pounders were clustered round their -guns, hunched up in all sorts of winter clothing. -Many of them wore their duffel jackets with great -gauntleted gloves drawn up over their sleeves, and -had already pulled the hoods of their jackets over -their heads, giving them the appearance of Eskimo -or Arctic explorers; the others were in oilskins padded -out with jerseys, jumpers, flannels, and thick vests.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once issue warm clothing to a bluejacket and never -will he leave it off, whatever the temperature, unless -he is made to do so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chirpy little gunner's mate had reported "all -correct, sir, guns cleared away, night-sight circuits -switched on, sir, and four rounds a gun ready."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan had reported himself to the officer of -the watch, on the bridge above him, and now had -nothing to do, for the best part of two hours, but walk -up and down and keep warm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They tells me that one of 'em submarines was -nosing round these parts two days ago, sir," one of -his petty officers said, as he stopped at one gun, -looked through the telescope sight, and tested the -electric circuit. "It ain't much weather for the poor -murdering blighters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not. Darkness was rapidly closing in, and -the gale howled angrily out of the west, driving -masses of dark rain-clouds and a heavy sea before it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> dipped her fo'c'sle constantly, and -when she lifted and shook herself, the spray shot up -far above her bridge screens.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan and his guns' crews on the wind'ard -side would feel the ship quiver as a wave thudded -against the casemate below them, and then had just -time to duck their heads before millions of icy particles -of spray soused viciously over them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the Orphan took shelter in the lee of the -conning-tower and leant moodily against it, thinking -of the warmth and gaiety of the dance he had been -at the night before, also of a certain little lady in -white and blue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In peace time it is depressing enough to leave a -cosy harbour, and face a wild winter's night in the -Channel; but in war time the chance of blowing up -on a mine and the risk of being torpedoed make the -strain very considerable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the first night and the first day or two, most -people are inclined to be rather "jumpy"; though -afterwards this feeling wears off quickly, and one -leaves everything to "fate" and ceases to worry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only a few days before, Germany had announced -to the world the commencement of her submarine -blockade of the English coast, so the Channel was -probably already swarming with submarines; though -even the Orphan, depressed and miserable as he was -then, could not have imagined that these submarines -had orders to sink merchant ships and mail steamers -at sight and without warning, and that a civilized -nation had sunk so low, nineteen hundred years after -Christ was born into the world, as to plot the -whole-sale murder of inoffensive women and children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he was miserable enough without knowing -that, and opening up his oilskin coat, practised -blowing up his safety waistcoat. Then he wondered -whether his guns' crews had their swimming-collars -with them—as was ordered—and went from gun to -gun, dodging the spray, to find out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was quite dark now, the foc's'le and the turret -below were invisible, and he had to grope his way -along to find the guns' crews by hearing them talk -or stumbling against them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One or two of the men had lost their collars; -another had burst his trying how big he could blow -it; others had left them down below in their kit-bags -or lashed in their hammocks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Plunky Bill, the cheeky A.B. belonging to the -picket-boat, was the only one who had his. The -gunner's mate explained that "Plunky Bill 'ad a -sweet'eart in Portsmouth what was fair gone on -'im, and 'ad made 'im promise to always wear 'is -collar".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Plunky Bill evidently thought he had a grievance, -and growled out that "'E wasn't going to be bothered -with young females, not 'im; a-making 'im look so -foolish-like".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, they ain't no use, nohow," the gunner's -mate grunted, jerking a thumb towards the heavy sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Any news, sir?" the gunner's mate shouted, when -he and the Orphan had regained the lee of the -conning-tower, round which solid icy spray swished almost -continuously. "The Ruskies are giving it to them -Austrians in the neck, proper like, ain't they, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't hear any," the miserable Orphan shouted back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"D'you know where we're off to?" the other asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"North Sea again," the Orphan told him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gunner's mate had no use for the North Sea—never -wanted to see it again, and said so in -blood-curdling language.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What about the Dardanelles, sir?" he asked a -moment later. "That's the place I'd like to be in. -There's a sight of old 'tubs' gone out there. Any -news, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Orphan had heard none, and climbed up on -the bridge above to have a yarn with the midshipman -of the watch—the Pimple.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was full of schemes for "ragging" the China Doll.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Patting your 'tummy', Orphan; that was cheek -if you like! and the Sub didn't like it either."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pimple was very deferential to the Sub—rather -too much so; what the Sub did and what he said -made up most of the Pimple's daily existence. "He'd -like us to take it out of the China Doll, wouldn't he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be an ass. Let the China Doll alone—it's -too beastly wet and cold to bother about him. What -about that cake you 'sharked' off the table?" So the -Pimple, ever ready to ingratiate himself with anyone, -produced a big wedge of gun-room cake out of his -greatcoat pocket, and the two of them, crouching -under the weather screens, munched away silently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was so dark that they could not see the look-out -man, who was holding the brim of his sou'wester over -his eyes to shield him from the rain and the spray, -and trying to pierce the blackness of the stormy night -in front of him. Both snotties were startled by a -sudden cry from him: "Something a-'ead, sir! on -the starboard bow, sir!" Another look-out also -spotted something; everyone tried to see it; the -officer of the watch dashed to the end of the bridge -and peered through his night-glasses; the gunner's -mate, down below, could be heard shouting to the -guns' crews to "close up"; the breeches of the guns -snapped to as they were loaded; and the Orphan, -stuffing the remnants of the cake in his pocket, -scrambled down the ladder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There it is, sir! There! there!—I can see it!' -came excitedly out of the darkness. Everyone thought -of submarines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just like one, sir!" a signalman bawled to the -officer of the watch, who yelled to the Quartermaster -"hard-a-port", and rushed into the wheel-house to -see that he did it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment a bobbing light began flickering -out of the darkness ahead—a signal lamp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's the challenge, sir," the signalman shouted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right; reply; bring her on her course, -Quartermaster. Starboard your helm, hard-a-starboard!" -shouted the officer of the watch coolly; and as the -</span><em class="italics">Achates'</em><span> bows swung back again, she swerved past -a long, black object down below in the water, with -its twittering signal light tossed about like a spark -from a chimney on a dark night, and by that faint -light they could just see the outline of three funnels -before the light was shut off and everything disappeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was only a patrolling destroyer. One could not -see her rolling, or the seas breaking over her, but one -could realize the horrible discomfort aboard her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor devils!—a rotten night to be out in—we -nearly bumped into her," thought the officer of the -watch, jumping to the telephone bell from the -Captain's cabin, which was ringing excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, sir; a patrol destroyer; had to alter -course to clear her. No, sir, the wind is steady, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was six o'clock now—four bells clanged below—the -first dog-watch was finished, and presently the -Pink Rat came up to relieve the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jolly slack on it!" grumbled the Orphan as he -bumped into him and dived down below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The easiest way aft was along the mess deck—the -upper deck was so dark—and as the Orphan passed -through one of the stokers' messes he saw Fletcher, -the old stoker of his picket-boat, sitting at a mess -table, all alone, under an electric light, his face buried -in his hands, and a Bible before him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter, Fletcher? you look jolly -mouldy," he said, stopping at the end of the table. -"What's the matter? Bad news?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," he said gently, standing up, one hand -pushing his gold spectacles back on his nose, the -other marking the place in the book. "A letter from -my wife. Our last boy's been killed in France, sir. -That's the third; he was a corporal, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His old, refined, tired face looked so abjectly -miserable that the Orphan did not know what to say. -"Come and get a drink. That'll buck you up," he -stuttered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Fletcher shook his head. "I'm an abstainer, -sir; thank you very much." And the snotty, -muttering "I'm sorry", went away along the rest of the -noisy, crowded mess deck towards the gun-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was comparative quiet there. The Sub and -Uncle Podger were sitting in front of the stove, -reading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know old Fletcher—the stoker of my boat; -he's frightfully miserable; he's sitting down in his -mess looking awful; he's just heard that his last son's -been killed; I wish we could do something for him. -The letter must have come when I brought off the -postman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How about a drink?" asked the Sub, scratching -his head. "I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> sorry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's that?" asked Uncle Podger; "that old -chap with the gold specs?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fancy having to stick it out—all the misery of -it—in a mess deck, with hundreds of chaps cursing -and joking all round you," the Sub said. "I don't -see what we can do to help him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've got a cabin," Uncle Podger suggested. -"Get him down in it; shut him in for an hour. -What he wants most is to be alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right oh!" said the Sub, springing to his feet. -"I've got the first watch; he can stay there till 'pipe -down';" and he sent Barnes, the purple-faced marine, -to find Fletcher and tell him that the Sub-lieutenant -wanted him at once in his cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub, swinging his mighty shoulders, stalked -down to his cabin, and presently there was a knock -outside, and Fletcher peered in. "Yes, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've just heard, Fletcher," the Sub said, holding -out his hand. "We are all very sorry; you'd like -to be by yourself for a while. Stay here till 'pipe -down'; no one shall come near you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pushed the old man down in the chair, drew -the door across, and went into the gun-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes later the Pimple, who had been to -his chest, outside the Sub's cabin, came in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old Fletcher's blubbing like anything," he said. -"I heard him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get out of it, you little beast!" roared out the Sub. -"Get out of the gun-room till dinnertime. Who told -you to go sneaking round?" and Uncle Podger got -in a well-judged kick which deposited the miserable -Pimple on the deck outside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan had the "middle" watch that night, -so he turned into his hammock early, and was -roughly shaken before it seemed to him that he had -been to sleep a minute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still raining?" he grunted to the corporal of the -watch who had called him, as he climbed out and -hunted round for his clothes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Raining and blowing 'orrible!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He groped his way for'ard, only half awake, -stumbling on the unsteady slippery deck-plates, barking -his shins against a coaming, and bumping into the -rest of the watch as they came up from the lighted -mess deck like blind men. He "took over" from -the snotty of the first watch, and, as soon as his -sleepy eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, -began pacing up and down across the narrow deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gale still howled wildly through the fore -shrouds, the wet signal halyards still flapped noisily -against each other, and the rain still came driving -under the bridge; but by this time the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had -altered course and was running up-Channel, so had -the seas on her starboard quarter, and though she -was rolling heavily no spray came over her. That -was one thing to be thankful for, the Orphan -thought, as he looked into the utter blackness ahead -of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he leant against the conning-tower. But -there was nothing for his eyes to rest on, and the -screaming of the gale and the roaring of the rushing -seas mingling together to make one continual, -tumultuous clamour in his ears, lulled him nearly to -sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He started—he thought he was dancing with the -little lady in white and blue—grinned to himself, and -went up on the bridge to have a yarn with Bubbles, -who was now the midshipman of the watch; tracked -him by his laugh and his snorting noise; doubled up -he was, at some yarn the Navigating Lieutenant was -telling him—he always laughed long before a yarn -came to an end!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The ass jumped on to the top of the -conning-tower—got an arm round the periscope tube, and -began banging away at the periscope with a hammer!" -the Navigator was shouting as the Orphan came up. -(Bubbles threw his head back and roared.) "He'd -only got in a few whacks when the old submarine -began to dive; down went the conning-tower and the -periscope, and the last that was seen of him was a -hand and a hammer giving one last whack!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles choked and snorted with laughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What was it—a German submarine—was he -drowned—did they catch the submarine?" the Orphan -asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, they did. It had been badly hit before. -We swept for it, and found it three days later, and -the brave ass was still clinging to the periscope tube -with his feet twisted round the conning-tower rail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who was he?" gasped Bubbles when he could -stop laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one in particular, only the deck hand of a -trawler," the Navigator said, in his cynical way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Meredith, the officer of the watch, a tall, -good-looking Naval Reserve lieutenant with a weather-beaten -face, and rather bald-headed, came up. "It's -five bells, you fellows. How about some cocoa? I've -got a tin of gingerbreads."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the ticket, old chap!" the Navigator cried, -and Bubbles was sent off to make the cocoa and bring -it up to the chart-house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ten minutes later, the cheery chart-house was filled -with the fragrant odour of cocoa, the Navigator's -charts had been rolled aside; two were sitting on the -table, the other on the settee which was the Navigator's -bed at sea, all with steaming cups of cocoa -in their hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's the 'War Baby'? Go and fetch the -War Baby," the Navigator shouted; so off Bubbles -went, the light going out as the door slid back, and -coming on again as it closed and "made" the electric -circuit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently, in came the youngest-looking thing in -soldiers anyone ever saw, with a face as pink and -white as the China Doll's, and the first buds of a tiny -moustache on his upper lip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's perfectly damnable outside," he piped in his -girlish voice, as he seized a biscuit and a cup of -cocoa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo!" sang out the Navigator, as they all heard -a knock on a door beneath them; "there's someone -banging at the Skipper's door." (The Captain, when -at sea, slept in a tiny cabin immediately beneath the -chart-house and above the shelter deck.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They heard the Captain's voice calling "Come in"; -and the Navigator, seizing his glasses, and singing -out that "the Captain would be up on the bridge in a -jiffy—he always does if anyone wakes him," went -out, followed by the others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a minute the Captain came up, shouting for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here I am, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He seized the Navigator by the arm excitedly—the -Captain was seldom anything but calm—and drew -him into the chart-house. "Read this," he said, -snapping his jaws together and sticking out his little -pointed beard, as the door was closed and the light -glared out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Navigator read: "</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> is to proceed with -dispatch to Malta, calling at Gibraltar for coal if -necessary."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That means the Dardanelles, sir! Finish North -Sea, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane looked down at him with -twinkling eyes and smiled happily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In five minutes' time the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had ported her -helm and was on her new course; the news had flown -round the bridge, been bellowed down below to the -guns' crews, and shouted down the voice-pipes to the -engine-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're off to Malta!—the Dardanelles!" and everyone -who passed the good news added, "Finish North -Sea. Thank God!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sober, obsolete old </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> seemed to know -where she was bound. On her new course she once -more faced the gale and the seas, diving and pitching, -shaking and trembling, throwing the wild spray crashing -against the weather screens, flying over the bridge -and pattering against the funnels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What cared she, or anyone aboard her, however -wildly the gale blew!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-bombardment-of-smyrna-forts"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Bombardment of Smyrna Forts</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> arrived at Gibraltar on the fourth -morning out from Spithead, and went alongside the South -Mole to coal, just as the warm Mediterranean sun rose -above the top of the grand old rock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gun-room officers—-everybody, in fact—were in -the highest spirits. It was grand to have left behind -the dreary, cold English winter, and it was grander -still to be on the way to the Dardanelles. Best of -all, they could now go to sea without worrying about -submarines and mines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two days from Gibraltar the daily wireless telegram -from England told them that the forts at the entrance -to the Dardanelles had been silenced, and that -landing-parties were being sent ashore to demolish them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why couldn't they have waited? We shall be -too late; we shall miss all the fun," they cried sadly, -down in the gun-room; "just come in for the tail end -of everything; they'll be up at Constantinople by the -time we get there; what sickening rot!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you'd seen as much fighting as I have," Uncle -Podger said solemnly—he'd only been a year in the -Service, and seen none—"you'd——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he wasn't allowed to finish. They shouted:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dogs of war! Out, Accountant Branch!" and rolled -him and the China Doll on the deck until Barnes -banged the trap-door with the porridge-spoon to let -them know that breakfast was ready.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At Malta there was another hurried coaling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was here they heard that the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span>, their -chummy ship—a sister ship—the ship which had been -next to them in the North Sea patrol—had already -passed through Malta bound for the Dardanelles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was, of course, the Pimple who heard this first, -and who climbed down into a coal lighter alongside -to tell the Sub. The Sub, black and grimy, grinned. -"We'll get a chance to knock spots out of them at -'soccer', somewhere or other," he said, joyfully -rubbing some of the coal-dust on his sleeve over the -Pimple's excited and fairly clean face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope they haven't found out about the sea-gulls," -the Pimple said; but the Sub hadn't any more time to -talk to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sea-gull incident was rather a sore point with -the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span> gun-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That ship had not yet fired a gun; the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had, -and the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span> snotties were jealous and didn't -believe it. All they could find out was that their -rival's after 9.2-inch gun had fired at a submarine -early one morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What happened?" they would ask. "Did you -hit it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we didn't see it again," the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> gun-room -would answer. "We must have hit it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They always forgot to mention that this submarine -had turned out to be a dozen or more sea-gulls sitting -close together; and they had told the story so often—of -course leaving out the sea-gull part—that they very -much hoped that their chummy ship would never get -hold of the proper yarn. If once they knew, their -legs would be pulled unmercifully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It would not have mattered so much if one of the -Lieutenants or the Commander had made the mistake; -but the worst of it was that the Sub had been on watch -at the time, so the snotties, the China Doll, and Uncle -Podger would have perjured themselves for ever, -rather than give away the secret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At Malta a passenger came on board, a tortoise -about eight inches long. Who brought him no one -knew, but in a day or two old Fletcher the stoker had -adopted him as his own. The old man loved to sit on -the boat deck by the hour in the sun, with "Kaiser -Bill"—as the men called the tortoise—and feed the -ungainly wrinkled brute with bits of cabbage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Malta was left behind; the weather grew hot; white -trousers were ordered to be worn, and were scarce—no -one had expected to be sent to a warm climate—but -those who had them shared with those who hadn't; -the China Doll borrowed a pair, much too big for him, -from Uncle Podger; those who had none, and would -not borrow, wore their flannel trousers. Of course the -Pink Rat turned out in beautifully creased white ducks -and spotless shoes; the Pink Rat always carried about -with him a very extensive wardrobe, though where he -stowed it all, no one could imagine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But no one bothered about clothes. It was so -glorious to be warm again, and to be on their way to -"do" something and fire their guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At something better than sea-gulls!" said the -Orphan, grinning with delight. "We'll have shells -coming all round us; you'll get plenty of them, up in -your old foretop, China Doll; you and your range-finder -will be blown sky-high in no time. Won't that -be fun?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll opened and shut his eyes, and -simply trembled with excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The China Doll has his legs blown off!" shouted -the Pink Rat—the senior snotty. "First aid on the -China Doll!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a rush the snotties tumbled him on his back. -"Lie still!" they yelled. "Stop kicking—your legs -are blown off—you haven't got any!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I haven't got any, you won't feel me kicking!" -the China Doll squeaked, lashing out with his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst two ran for a bamboo stretcher, the others -captured his legs and tied them together with -handkerchiefs and table napkins, so tightly that the victim -cried for mercy. The stretcher was brought; they -lashed him in it; lashed his arms in, to prevent him -grabbing at the furniture and shouting and yelling, -ran him aft along the deck to lower him down into the -Gunner's store-room, below the armoured deck, where -the doctors set up their operating table at "Action" -station.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately for the China Doll the armoured hatch -leading down to it was shut down and must not be -opened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the way back to the gun-room with him, they -had to pass the Surgeon's cabin, where Doctor -Crayshaw Gordon was sitting, busy censoring letters. -Dr. Crayshaw Gordon, R.N.V.R.—in private life he had -a big consulting practice in London—hearing the -noise and seeing the stretcher, thought there had been -an accident, so jumped out of his cabin. "Hello!" he -sung out, in his funny chuckling way of talking—fixing -his gold eyeglasses on his nose, opening his -mouth wide, and pulling nervously at his little pointed -tawny beard. "Hello! what's the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The China Doll, sir!" they shouted, dropping -him on the deck. "Both legs blown off!—he can't -kick you, sir, we've lashed him up too tightly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's very painful," the China Doll bleated, all the -pink gone out of his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Gordon went down on his knees and began to -unlash him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rather too much—too much," he said in his -agitated manner, when he found how tightly the -handkerchiefs had been fastened, and cried out with -alarm when the China Doll's head suddenly dropped -back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's fainted, you silly fellows!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They unbuckled the straps and untied the handkerchiefs -in double-quick time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put him on my bunk," Dr. Gordon told them; -and, very frightened, they laid him there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll's eyes opened, and he looked round -not knowing what had happened. "Don't play ass -tricks; get out of it; leave him here!" Dr. Gordon -ordered gently; and they trooped away, dragging the -stretcher along after them—rather sobered for the -moment—to get a lecture from the Sub and Uncle -Podger when they crowded into the gun-room and -told what had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In half an hour the China Doll was back again—none -the worse, except that the pink had not all come -back in his doll's face—rather pleased with himself -than otherwise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That happened on a Wednesday afternoon. On -the Thursday, orders came by wireless for the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -to rendezvous off the Gulf of Smyrna; and as dawn -broke on Friday, the 5th March, she found herself -half-way between the islands of Mytilene and Chios.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No one knew what was going to happen except, -perhaps, Captain Macfarlane. "And he's probably -forgotten," the irrepressible Orphan said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This young gentleman was on watch with his -guns, under the fore bridge, when the rendezvous -was reached, and spotted some puffs of smoke rising -above the horizon to the north'ard. Presently he -saw through his glasses the masts of two battleships.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are they?" he asked excitedly of one of his -petty officers, who was training a gun in their -direction and looking through the telescopic sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know them, sir!" he cried. "The </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> -and </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span>. Look at their cranes—boat -cranes—amidships, sir; there can't be any mistaking them, -sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the Orphan had never seen them before, he had -to take his word for it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Trawlers behind 'em, sir—half a dozen or more," -the petty officer called out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In half an hour the very graceful outlines of these -two battleships could be seen without glasses—easily -distinguished from any other ship in the Navy by -their hydraulic cranes for hoisting boats in and out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan looked at them with all the more interest, -because he knew that they had just come from -the Dardanelles, and he peered at them through his -glasses to try and discover any shell-marks. They -looked as if they had just come out of dockyard hands, -and he felt disappointed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The trawlers followed, like ducklings out for a -morning paddle with their father and mother. Very homely -they looked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Signal hoists fluttered and were hauled down, and -soon the three big ships, with the little trawlers -clustered at a respectful distance, lay with engines stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captains of the battleships came across to the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and an R.N.R. Lieutenant—in charge of the -trawlers—bobbed alongside in a trawler's dinghy and -scrambled on board. All three went below to the -Captain's cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a perfect morning, the breeze a little chilly, -the sea calm, and just beginning to catch the light of -the sun as it rose behind the misty, grey mountains of -Asia Minor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two spotless gigs and the disreputable dinghy -lay alongside, and their crews were soon busy -answering questions, as the quarter-deck men left off their -scrubbing decks and bawled down to know the news, -and how things were going, and what was to be done -here. "Have you been hit?" was the chief question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We got an 8-inch in the quarter-deck," the -</span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> boat's crew called up. "Knocked the -ward-room about cruel;" and the </span><em class="italics">Triumphs</em><span>, jealous, told -them: "It ain't nothin' compared to Kiao Chau—we -got our foretop knocked out bombarding the forts -there; a 12-inch shell what did that. It's not near so -bad here as what it was out there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the hubbub of voices the Commander, splashing -out of the battery in his sea-boots, sent the men back -to their holystones and squeegees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captains and the R.N.R. Lieutenant went -back to their ships and trawlers, and then the three -big ships commenced steaming in line ahead up the -Gulf of Smyrna, the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> leading, the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> -astern of her, and the </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span> astern of the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>. -The little trawlers were left behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By breakfast-time everyone in the gun-room knew -that the forts of Smyrna were to be bombarded. The -Navigator's "doggy"—the Pimple—came down -bursting with this information. "The Navigator -says we shall be in range just after dinner. I heard -the Captain tell him they had a big fort there with -9- or 10-inch guns, and a mine-field in front of -it—any amount of mines."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall get first smack at them, shan't we?" -the others said, beaming. "Our Captain is the -senior one, isn't he?" and they hurried through -breakfast and clattered up on the quarter-deck to -have a look at the land.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time the ships were well inside the Gulf -of Smyrna, steaming along its southern shore. Green -olive-clad hills, rising from the sparkling, sunlit sea, -sloped upwards until their sides, becoming barren, -towered ragged into the cloudless sky. For two -hours they steamed along, until, in front of them, -the mountain barrier which circled the head of the -Gulf, and sheltered the town of Smyrna itself, loomed -ahead fourteen miles away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three ships were quite close inshore now, and -every officer and man who had no special duties was -on deck looking ashore, yarning in the glorious warm -sunshine, pointing out villages, eagerly scanning -every projecting point of land, and wondering whether -the Vali of Smyrna knew they were coming and was -prepared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were not long in doubt. The tall, aristocratic -Major of Marines, soaked in Eastern lore by many -years spent among Arabs and Sudanese, suddenly -spotted a little pillar of grey smoke rising from the -shore. He pointed it out, saying it was a signal, -and was much chaffed by the other ward-room officers, -until even they realized that he was right, when more -curled up from projecting points of land as they -steamed past. The news of their approach was being -passed along to Smyrna.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't it exciting? I do feel ripping, inside," the -Orphan told the Lamp-post as they both watched the -shore and the signals. "Isn't it an adventure? my hat!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Greek galleys and the Roman galleys came -along just as we are coming," the learned Lamp-post -said excitedly. "I bet the poor galley-slaves' backs -were tired before they fetched up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must have been beastly for them not to be able -to see where they were going and not to take part in -the fighting."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They didn't want to," the Lamp-post told him. -"Let's come for'ard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So they went along the boat deck, and from there -they soon were able to see a little square shape rising -out of the water. It was the fort of Yeni Kali, which -commanded the approach to the Bay of Smyrna and -the town. It was jutting out on low-lying land from -the southern shore of the bay, which here made a -broad sweep along the foot of some very high hills.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up above, on the bridge, the Navigator was pointing -out to the Pimple a buoy with a flag on it. "That -marks the end of the mine-field. I'll bet anything -they've forgotten to remove it, or haven't had time. -You see that low ground to the right of it—all -covered with bushes and things—they've got batteries -somewhere there, and there are more of them half-way -up the hills."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pimple nervously followed the Navigator's -finger as he pointed out the places, and expected -every moment that a gun would open fire. He had -felt very brave at breakfast when he talked about -them, but he was not quite sure whether he was -enjoying himself so much as he expected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ships stopped engines whilst still out of range, -and went to dinner at seven bells. An excited cheery -dinner it was, and the mess deck hummed like a -wasps' nest, the hoary old grandfathers among the -men—and there were many of them—in as high spirits -as anybody.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Punctually at half-past twelve Captain Macfarlane -went for'ard to the bridge, the ships commenced to -go ahead, and the bugles blared out "Action -stations"—the ordinary General Quarters bugle without the -preliminary two "G" blasts, but what a difference -when heard for the first time!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll, clambering up the fore shrouds to -his dizzy perch in the for'ard fire-control top, found -his little heart thumping so much that he had to have -a "stand easy" half-way up, gripping the ratlines -and getting his breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane—on the bridge—saw him stop, -and guessed the reason. He had had much experience -of shells coming his way—during the Boer -War—and knew how he had hated them, so felt sorry for -the youngster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A lot depends on you, Mr. Stokes" (that was the -China Doll's name), he called up to him encouragingly; -and the China Doll was up the rigging like a -redshank, tremendously proud and happy, clambered -into the top, and began helping the seamen, already -there, take the canvas cover off the range-finder and -unlash the canvas screens.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gunnery-Lieutenant climbed up after him, and -snubbed him for asking foolish questions. "Were -they going to fire? Who was going to fire? How -do I know? You'll know soon enough. Just hang -on to those voice-pipes and don't talk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So for some time the China Doll, humbled again, -had nothing to do but look round him. Right ahead -was the fort, standing square and bold at the end -of the low-lying land. Three miles or so behind it, -sloping up the mountains, were the white houses of -Smyrna; over to the northern shore, to his left, long -heaps lay dazzling in the sun—salt heaps these were; -and on the right, the high hills with their concealed -batteries. He looked behind at the two ships following -astern, and down below at the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> beneath -him, and wondered, if the mast were shot away, -whether he would fall clear of her in the water or on -top of the boats. The "top" where he was, looked -so small from down below, but when he was actually -in it, it seemed so big that he thought shells couldn't -possibly miss it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked down at the bridge, and saw the Pimple -shadowing the tall Navigator as he dodged from side -to side of the bridge—they would both go into the -conning-tower presently; he saw Mr. Meredith's bald -head showing out of the turret on the fo'c'sle, and -Rawlinson squeezed his head out too. For a moment -he rather wished he could change places with them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But then the orders came up through the voice-pipes. -The Captain wanted the range of the fort. -The seaman at the range-finder fumbled about with -the thumb-screws and sang out: "One—six—nine—five—o" -(the o is sounded as a letter, not as a figure). -These were yards. The China Doll shouted down his -voice-pipe: "One—six—nine—five—o". Nothing -more came up for a quarter of an hour; he noticed -how the "top" shook with the vibration of the -engines. Then he had to sing down his voice-pipe: -"One—five—five—o—o"; another interval; the range -came down: "One—four—one—o—o", and the -Gunnery-Lieutenant began shouting orders through his -voice-pipes about degrees of elevation and the kind -of shell to be used.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A bell tinkled close to him, and the red disk showed -that the transmitting-room was calling him. Uncle -Podger was there, he knew, sitting in the little padded -room below the armoured deck and the water-line, -with his head almost inside a huge voice-pipe shaped -like the end of a gramophone, listening for orders, and -waiting to pass them on to the various guns. And -it was Uncle Podger's voice which came to him: -"What's happening? Are we getting close in? It's -beastly hot down here; aren't we going to fire soon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before he could answer, a long signal hoist nearly -knocked off his cap, flicking against the side of the -"top" as it went up to the mast-head. Down it -came again; a corner of a yellow-and-red pendant -caught in a voice-pipe; he released it, and saw the -signalman haul the flags down, in a gaily coloured -heap, on the bridge below him. When he looked -astern again, the two ships were spreading out; the -vibration of the "top" ceased. He knew that the -engines had stopped, and presently all three ships -lay in line, with their starboard broadsides turned -towards the old fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gunnery-Lieutenant now flew about, jumping -from voice-pipes to range-finder and back again, -reporting to the Captain. "Aye, aye, sir!" he shouted, -and then called down, "Fore turret!—fore turret! try a -ranging shot—common shell—one—four—o—five—o, -at the left edge of the fort. Fire when you are ready!"</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 66%" id="figure-65"> -<span id="the-gunnery-lieutenant-now-flew-about-jumping-from-voice-pipes-to-range-finder-and-back-again"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""THE GUNNERY LIEUTENANT NOW FLEW ABOUT, JUMPING FROM VOICE PIPES TO RANGE-FINDER AND BACK AGAIN"" src="images/img-046.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"THE GUNNERY LIEUTENANT NOW FLEW ABOUT, JUMPING FROM VOICE PIPES TO RANGE-FINDER AND BACK AGAIN"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll felt funny thrills running up and -down his backbone as he watched the fore turret move -round, and the long chase of the 9.2-inch gun cock -itself in the air. Mr. Meredith's bald head disappeared -through the sighting hood. He heard the snap of -the breech-block and the cheery sound of -"Ready!" Mr. Meredith's head came out of his hood as he gazed -at the distant fort through his glasses. He heard the -word "Fire!" and at the same moment the fighting-top -swayed as if a squall had struck the mast, a great -cloud of yellowish smoke blotted out the foc's'le, and -the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had fired a gun for the second time in the -war—on this occasion not at sea-gulls!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a few seconds a column of water leapt into the air -behind the fort—the shell had fallen in the bay beyond. -The Gunnery-Lieutenant roared down: -"One—three—eight—five—o; fire as soon as you are ready!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Off went the gun again; another wait, and a black-reddish -splash appeared on the face of the fort, and up -shot a cloud of dirty smoke. "Hit, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that he was too busy to notice anything; he -only remembered, later on, that the Turks had not -fired back. More signals were hoisted; the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> -and </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span> commenced firing, and in a very short -space of time hits were being rapidly made on Yeni -Kali fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the after turret of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> opened fire, and -with her second round landed a lyddite shell square -on one corner of the fort—brick dust and masonry -going sky-high.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Turks did not return the fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, eventually, the bugle sounded the "secure", -the China Doll could hardly believe that he had been -there for two and a half hours, and at the order to -"pack up" he climbed down below, and ran to the -gun-room, where Barnes, the big marine, in his shirt-sleeves, -was already laying the table for afternoon tea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The snotties and Uncle Podger came trooping in, -jabbering like magpies; the Pink Rat, who was in the -after turret, and Rawlinson, who had the foremost one, -each claiming that his own gun had made most hits. -They both were getting angry—the Pink Rat cool and -cynical, Rawlinson's temper getting the better of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They seized the China Doll. "You saw; which -gun did best?" but the Assistant Clerk was much too -wily to take sides, and wriggled away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They pounced on the Pimple, who had been on the -bridge all the time. He, flattered to have his opinion -asked, thought that Rawlinson's gun had made more -hits.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That rotten, worn-out pipe of a gun of yours," -the Pink Rat sneered, "couldn't hit a haystack at a -mile; yours were dropping short all the time!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yours may be the slightly better gun" (it was -more modern), "but if you had anything to do with it, -it wouldn't hit the Crystal Palace, a hundred yards -away," Rawlinson snorted, getting red in the face. -"Ours </span><em class="italics">didn't</em><span> go short."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Contradiction is no argument," the Pink Rat said -loftily; and Rawlinson, who was half as big again as -the senior snotty (that was why the Pimple had backed -him), would have given him a hiding, had not the Sub -come in and stopped them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What the dickens does it matter? We've given -old Yeni Kali a fair 'beano'; its own mother wouldn't -know it. Hurry up with the tea booze; I've to go on -watch; out, both of you, if you can't keep quiet!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barnes brought in the big teapot, slices of bread -and jam and butter disappeared marvellously as -they all ate and gabbled. "Why didn't they shoot -back?—the mean beggars—I expect we've knocked -out all their guns," Rawlinson gurgled with his -mouth full. "You didn't, anyway," sneered the -Pink Rat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish we'd gone straight in—don't put your -sleeve in my butter—I don't believe those mines would -have gone off—wouldn't they?—a bally lot you know -about mines—you pig, Pimple, you've taken half that -tin of jam—the Captain knows all about them—that's -what those trawlers are for—shove across the bread—they'll -sweep a passage through them—why didn't -they let us fire more of our 6-inch—your old guns, -Orphan—they ain't as much good as a sick headache—look -at that slice of cake the Pink Rat's cut—put -the Pink Rat down for two slices, Barnes, and bring -along the teapot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Hun put his head in at the door. "Twenty-five -minutes past four, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right! Curse it! I'm coming," and gulping -down what was left of his tea, and grabbing his -telescope and cap, the Sub went up to relieve the watch -amidst a babel of "Hun! Hun! hold on a jiffy! You -were on the bridge all the time; which 9.2 made the -most hits? What did the Captain say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The after gun; that's what the Captain said," he -told them, and went out again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I told you so!" laughed the Pink Rat; and Rawlinson, -crestfallen and angry, shouted "that he didn't -believe it, and if it was true, that it was all due to the -China Doll passing down the wrong ranges".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The poor Assistant Clerk flushed with mortification, -and squeaked out: "I know I didn't make any mistake—I -just repeated the figures after the Gunnery-Lieutenant—they -were right at my end of the voice-pipe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, don't cry!" Rawlinson growled. "You've -got such a silly voice—you can't help it—the figures -must have come wrong at our end."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They seized the luckless China Doll, stuck him on a -bench at one end of the mess, twisted one of the long -white table-cloths into a rope, and made him hold one -end, whilst the Orphan held the other to his ear and -pretended to listen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now pass the range," they laughed; "try -one—five—nine—o—o."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One—five—nine—o—o," the China Doll called -into the end of the table-cloth, not quite certain that he -was enjoying himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One—four—seven—six—and a half," repeated the -Orphan very solemnly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There you are! China! try again!" and they -made him give the order. "Train seventeen degrees -on the port beam."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, thinking hard, shook his head and -shouted back "Repeat!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Train seventeen degrees on the port beam," the -China Doll repeated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As solemn as a judge, the Orphan sang out, "Tame -seven clean fleas in the cream;" and as the poor -Assistant Clerk squeaked, "Don't be silly!" there were -yells of "He called you silly, Orphan; you aren't going -to stand that. Go for him, Orphan. We'll hold him; -he shan't hurt you." But Uncle Podger told them all -to stop fooling and smooth out the table-cloth. "We -can't get things washed properly on board," he said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-achates-is-shelled"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The "Achates" is Shelled</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning, the 6th March—a glorious sunny -morning it was—the three ships and the trawlers -again moved in towards battered Yeni Kali. The -trawlers went ahead to sweep through the mine-field -under the protection of the </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span>, whilst the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> followed astern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Breakfast was at seven o'clock—a hurried meal—and -everyone bolted down his food in order to get on deck -quickly and see the fun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rotten bad form of 'em not to fire at us yesterday," -Uncle Podger remarked, emptying half the -sugar basin on his porridge. "In all the wars I've -been in, we've fired first, then the enemy fired back; -we spotted their guns and knocked them out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And landed for a picnic afterwards," suggested -his neighbour, skilfully bagging the sugar basin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Generally," replied the Clerk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the last war I was in," began the China Doll, -"we generally asked the enemy to lunch. The -Captain said that made them so happy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If we're to have breakfast at this silly time," -Bubbles chuckled, "I call it a rotten war."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They heard shouts on deck. The half-deck sweeper -put his head in to tell them that the Turks were -firing, and they all stampeded on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Right ahead, the little trawlers could be seen, in -pairs, close in to the old fort and the low-lying land to -the right of it. Right on top of the mine-field they -were, and spurts of water were splashing up, every -other second, among them. Flashes twinkled out -from the scrub on the low-lying ground, three, four, -five at a time, and the splashes of their shells sprang -up, one after the other, between the trawlers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everyone held his breath and expected to see a -trawler hit, directly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a shout of "The </span><em class="italics">Triumph's</em><span> started!" A -yellowish cloud shot out from her, then another; -they shot out all along her broadside, and, right in -among the scrub, where the Turkish guns had been -firing, burst her 7.5 lyddite shells.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then splashes began falling close to the </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span> -herself—short—short—far over her—right under her -stern. "Hit under the fore bridge!" someone shouted. -The "Action" bugle blared out in the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>; -officers and men rushed to their stations; and the last -thing Uncle Podger and the Lamp-post saw was the -trawlers turning round and scuttling back, followed -by columns of water leaping up close to them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Uncle Podger, sedately excited, and the long, thin -Lamp-post made their way along the mess deck, -pushing through the crowds of men scurrying to and -fro; guns' crews squeezing into the casemates and -closing the armoured doors behind them; the stoker -fire-parties bustling along with their hoses, and the -lamp trimmers coming round and lighting the candle -lanterns in case the electric light failed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To get to the "transmitting-room", which was their -station, they had to go down the ammunition hoist of -"B2" casemate—the for'ard one on the port side of -the main deck,—and so many men of the ammunition -supply parties had to go down it that there was -a squash of men squeezing through the casemate door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Early doors, sixpence extra," Uncle Podger -grinned, as they waited whilst man after man climbed -down the rope-ladder in the hoist. This hoist was -simply a steel tube some fifteen feet long, big enough -for a broad-shouldered man to crawl through, and the -rope ladder dangled down inside it. When the bottom -rung of the ladder was reached, there was a jump -down of some five feet or so into the "fore cross -passage"—a broad space, from side to side across the -ship, under the dome of the armoured deck. The -magazines were below this fore cross passage, and -men standing in them handed up the six-inch cordite -charges through open hatches.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Into this space ran the ammunition passages, -running aft along each side under the slope of the -armoured deck, with the boiler-room bulkheads on the -inner sides, and the bulkheads of the lower wing -bunkers on the outer. When, as was now the case, -the shells in their red canvas bags hung in rows -along both these bulkheads, there was precious little -room for two people to pass side by side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ammunition hoists from all the 6-inch guns, -farther aft, opened into these passages, and under -each hoist an electric motor and winding drum was -placed to run the charges and shells up to the -casemate which it "fed". All these spaces and passages -were very dimly lighted by electric lights and candle -lanterns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Uncle Podger and the Lamp-post crawled down -the tube and dropped into the "fore cross passage", -they were hustled by men dashing out of the -ammunition passages, seizing charges and shells from the -men standing in the magazine hatches, and dashing -back again to their own hoists. These were the -"powder-monkeys" of the old days, most of them, -now, big bearded men; one, the biggest down there, -a man nearly fifty years of age, had been earning five -pounds a week, as a diver, before the outbreak of war -brought him back to the Navy. And no one was more -cheery than he, as he dashed backwards and forwards -from his hoist to the magazine, laughing and joking, -and wiping the sweat off his face. It was very warm -down there, and the smell of sweating men soon made -the air heavy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A bearded ship's corporal came down with the key -of the transmitting-room, opened the thick padded -wooden door in the bulkhead, and went in. The -Fleet-Paymaster and the tall, depressed Fleet-Surgeon -followed him down the tube. They scuttled out of -the way of the trampling men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A nice little place for you to work in, P.M.O.," -chuckled the Pay as they wormed themselves into a -corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rats in a trap!" grunted the P.M.O., and drew -in his feet and cursed as a seaman trod on them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chief sick-berth steward and his assistants had -already come down, but vainly looked for a place to -stow their surgical dressings. They had to hang -them from hooks in the bulkheads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Uncle Podger and the Lamp-post stood waiting for -the Chaplain, the Rev. Horace Gibbons; and when -they saw his shoes and scarlet socks dangling from -the lower end of the ammunition hoist from "B2" -casemate in a helpless, pathetic way, they dashed to -his assistance; each seized a foot and guided it to -safety on top of a convenient motor-hoist, and as the -Padre let go the ladder and jumped feebly, they -softened his fall. This was always their first job, for -he hated that rope-ladder and that hoist with a deadly -hatred, and, most of all, hated falling those last few -feet, suddenly dropping, as it were, from heaven, and -appearing in an undignified manner among all the -men there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post and Uncle Podger dusted down -the little pasty-faced Padre and put his hat on -straight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you so much! I'm afraid I've broken my -pipe in that hoist."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hallo, Angel Gabriel!" grinned the Pay, as the -three of them passed into the transmitting-room. -"Paying a call in the infernal region?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they shut the felted door they shut out all the -noise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This transmitting-room was a tiny little place, -perhaps fifteen feet long and five wide, with four -camp-stools, and rows of telephones and brass indicator -boxes with their little red and white figures showing -through the slits in them. Voice-pipes, too, -everywhere, and in one corner, over a camp-stool—Uncle -Podger's camp-stool—projected an enormous brass -voice-pipe with a gramophone-shaped end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every instrument had its label above it: -Conning-tower—After Turret—Starboard 6-inch—Y -group—X group—scores of them; and in front of the -Padre's camp-stool was a little table, like a school -table, with paper lying on it and a pencil chained -to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing happened yet, sir," the ship's corporal -sang out, as they closed the door and seated -themselves on their camp-stools with their backs against -the after bulkhead and the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Uncle Podger, sitting with his head in his -gramophone trumpet, could hear people talking in the -conning-tower. "Signal to the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> to stop -engines"—that was Captain Macfarlane's clear, incisive -voice; then the Navigator's infectious laugh, "The -trawlers are safe, sir; out of range, sir. They've had -the fright of their lives, sir."—"Port it is, sir," came -the gruff voice of the quartermaster at the wheel. -"Steady it is, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rang up the fore-control top, where the China -Doll was perched, and a bell at his side tinkled. -"What's going on, China Doll?" he called into his -loud-speaking navyphone, giving the mouthpiece a -shake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop that confounded ringing!" it bleated out, in -the peculiar nasal tone these navyphones always have. -That was the Gunnery-Lieutenant's irritated voice, so -Uncle Podger kept silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he heard, loud and clear through the trumpet -mouth: "Transmitting-room! Transmitting-room! -Tell the Major and Mr. Meiklejohn" (one of the -Lieutenants) "that the port 6-inch will fire first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aye, aye, sir! Port guns will fire first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He passed on the message to the Lamp-post, and -the Lamp-post, who was in charge of the port broadside -gun instruments, commenced telephoning to the -Major, aft, and Mr. Meiklejohn, up in B1 casemate, -above them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then more orders came down, rapidly, one after the -other; ranges, worked from the foretop, ticked -themselves off in the slits of the little brass boxes, were -verified, and passed on to the port guns and the -turrets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Commence with common shell," sounded the -trumpet mouth. Uncle Podger repeated it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's showing all right on my dial," the Lamp-post -said, a little bothered with so many telephones -asking him questions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, Lampy. Don't lose your wool. Pass -it on to the guns."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What range is showing?" called the trumpet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One—two—nine—five—o." "One—two—nine—five—o." -"One—two—nine—five—o," the Lamp-post, -the Padre, and the ship's corporal told Uncle -Podger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One—two—nine—five—o," he spoke into his -navyphone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What range are the guns showing?" asked the -trumpet. It was the Gunnery-Lieutenant, anxious to -know, at the last moment, whether all the instruments -were recording properly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This meant ringing up each gun, and took time. -Presently all the replies were received.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Y3 shows One—two—nine—o—o, sir," Uncle -Podger telephoned. "The others are correct."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Confound Y3!" he heard the Gunnery-Lieutenant -say angrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the figures in the slits in the brass boxes -began to move—the "five" gave way to "o", the -"nine" disappeared and "eight" took its place; the -range was decreasing. The little labels bearing the -types of shell to be used—armour-piercing, common, -lyddite—revolved, and came to a standstill with -"common" showing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All these changes down in the transmitting-room -repeated themselves in similar instruments at the -different guns, but to make doubly sure that they -were correctly known there, the order "Common -shell" was also passed by telephone. "Tell B1 to -stand by to fire," bawled the big trumpet, and the -Lamp-post calmly passed on the order.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fire!" yelled the trumpet mouth. The Lamp-post -pressed the key which rang the fire-gong in B1 -casemate. There was a dull thud from above, and -B1 had fired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then orders came down one after the other; the -whole battery began firing. The two turrets started, -the fore-turret gun making the transmitting-room -rattle, whilst the after 9.2 only made it wriggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Padre was busy jotting down times and ranges, -the ship's corporal was helping the Lamp-post with -his instruments, and Uncle Podger was taking in and -passing orders to them all. They had no time to -think of what was going on elsewhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Outside, in the "fore cross passage", the noise of -the for'ard guns, B1 and B2, coming straight down -their hoists was very loud. The breeze, too, blew the -cordite smoke down the hoists when the breeches of -the guns were opened to reload, and made the air and -stench more disagreeable than ever. The ammunition -supply parties were busy; empty red shell-bags -were brought back and flung into the magazines; -filled ones were handed up, and the men ran away -with them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Fleet-Surgeon and the Fleet-Paymaster flattened -themselves out of the way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cheer up, P.M.O.! We'll all be dead soon," the -Pay chuckled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed and we shall," snarled the P.M.O. -"Listen to those beastly engines—they've been going -ahead for the last hour—we'll be hitting the mines in -a minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we shan't know much about that, old chap; -we're right on top of the magazines. You'd be an -angel before you could say 'knife'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rats in a trap! Dry up!" growled the P.M.O. -"Rats in a trap! That's what we are."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A-climbing up de golden stairs," hummed the -Pay, pointing to the end of the rope-ladder dangling -from the hoist above them. "Hullo! That's -something new," the Paymaster broke in cheerfully, as -there was a noise just behind them—on the outer side -of the coal bunker—a different noise to any they had -heard before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you hear the coal jumping about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's summat 'it the harmour," men shouted -gleefully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two more!" Called out a gunner's mate as two -more crashes came, a little farther aft, and the coal -jumped and rattled behind the bulkhead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A cloud of black smoke poured down one of the -hoists. "Black powder," said the men, sniffing, as it -drifted along the passage and made them cough. "A -shell's burst somewhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A man from B3 slid down the rope of his hoist, and -sang out that one had just burst against the side of the -gun port. "No one hurt," he added, with a little -tinge of regret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few seconds later a very cheery voice bawled -down one of the starboard hoists to say that shells had -come into the mess deck and burst there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men were genuinely pleased that their old ship -had at last been hit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anyone killed?" they shouted up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't know yet. The whole blooming place is -on fire; port side, half a dozen knocked out. Old -Cooky got one in his leg. No one badly hurt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rumours flew up and down these hoists. No one -knew what had actually happened. A lot more smoke -came down the hoists. The Fleet-Surgeon fidgeted -lest he ought to go up, but he had to wait for orders, -and stay there until he was sent for.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're giving it 'em back, a fair treat," the men -sang out, as the guns up above fired very rapidly and -the whole ship shook.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The engines had stopped their rumbling during this -time, but now they started again. No more crashes -came against the armoured side, the guns ceased -firing, and presently a message came down: "The -Captain wants the Fleet-Surgeon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now for it," growled the Fleet-Surgeon, and -swung himself awkwardly up the dangling ladder -through the hoist up into the casemate, and so out to -the wrecked mess deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two shells—5.9-inch shells—had come in through -the ship's side and made a terrible mess of things. -The first one had burst in the stokers' mess deck, -smashing mess tables and stools and setting fire to -them. Flying fragments had wounded the chief cook, -who, against all orders, was in the galley, and five -men belonging to the "fire" and "repair" parties. -The rest had dashed along with their hoses, and, -whilst they were putting out this fire, the second shell -had burst in the next mess aft on the other side of a -bulkhead, and without fuss or worry they had dragged -their hoses along and put this out too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both messes were now ankle-deep in black water, -the blackened and smashed wooden tables and benches -lying higgledy-piggledy all over the deck; pipes and -stanchions were torn and twisted; the iron cap and -ditty-box racks hung down fantastically from the -blackened beams and plates overhead, and the whole -place was littered with the men's crockery smashed -into the tiniest pieces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll give you an hour and a half for the wounded, -and then we're going in again," the Fleet-Surgeon -was told, when he found the Captain and Commander -wading about among the wreckage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Off went the Fleet-Surgeon to find his wounded; -they had already been dragged into cosy corners and -roughly bandaged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Gordon came along, from his station aft, to help him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time all the ships had withdrawn out of -range. The "Secure" and the "Disperse" were -sounded, and everyone hurriedly dashed down to see -the damage and hunt for bits of shell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And there's another on the boat deck," the -Pimple, absolutely off his head with excitement, -screamed to the Lamp-post and Uncle Podger as they -came out of B2 casemate, up the hoist of which they -had just climbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He dragged them up to see the damage done, and -even Uncle Podger went into raptures when he saw -the beautiful hole in the wooden deck, and the fifty -or more small holes which fragments of shell had -made in the engine-room uptakes and in one of the -funnels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It doesn't matter if the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span> does find out -about the sea-gulls, now," he said, and gloated at the -lovely sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan came up, anxious lest any of the flying -pieces had hit his beloved picket boat; Bubbles came -along, chuckling and laughing, and they all craned -their necks over the side to see the holes where two -shells had come in, and where those that had struck -the armour had knocked off the wood sheathing and -the paint.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along or we'll miss lunch," Bubbles gurgled; -and they romped aft, passing old Fletcher, the stoker, -coming up, grimy and unwashed, from his watch -below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've just brought 'Kaiser Bill' up for an airing, -sir," he said, as the Orphan stopped to speak to him. -"I took him down out of mischief," and he carefully -placed the idiotic tortoise down on the iron plates, and -tried to tempt him with a piece of cabbage leaf to put -out his ugly head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lunch in the gun-room was a very rowdy meal. If -the Sub hadn't been pretty severe, precious little more -crockery would have been left there than in those two -stokers' mess decks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just fancy! Six times hit—no, eight times—I -counted them—all right, eight times—so much the -better—and six wounded. Fancy old Cooky being -knocked out—jolly hard luck; he oughtn't to have -been there. You should have been in B3 when the -shell hit the gun port, it did make a noise. They did -make a funny noise all round (this from the China -Doll). I had my cap blown off—one went between -my turret and the shelter deck (this from Rawlinson).</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're going back again," the Pimple, who had -had to go back to the bridge and now came down, -shouted. "I've just heard the Skipper tell the -Navigator. Give me some soup, Barnes, quick—I say, you -chaps, leave me a bit of pudding. We did get it -hot. You should have been on the bridge."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bet you were safe and sound in the conning-tower," -the others cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was only there part of the time. They kicked -me out—it was too crowded. When that shell burst -on the boat deck, bits came right over me. A bit hit -a signal locker and dropped quite close to me. I've -got it here," and the Pimple produced a bit of scrap -iron out of his pocket and held it up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That isn't a bit of shell," they laughed, as they -handed it round; "it's a bit of a deck plate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it was jolly hot when I picked it up," said -the Pimple, rather distressed. "I say, Barnes, do -hurry up with some grub."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you chaps, did you hear?" and the Pimple -brightened again. "That shell which hit the </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span> -killed a snotty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first they thought, and rather hoped, he might -be someone they knew; but the Pimple, who got all -his news from the talkative Navigator, told them he -was an R.N.R. midshipman, so they were a little -disappointed, because they could not possibly have known -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That afternoon the ships again steamed in almost -to the edge of the mine-field, and all of them opened a -very heavy fire on the Turkish guns; but these were so -widely dispersed, and so cleverly hidden in the scrub -of the low-lying ground, that hitting them was a -matter of pure luck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two trawlers also made another plucky attempt to -sweep through the mine-field, but had to retire when -more guns fired at them—guns which it was impossible -to locate from the ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was evidently hopeless to clear the mine-field -during daylight, so ships and trawlers retired again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A small steamer—the </span><em class="italics">Aennie Rickmers</em><span>—(she had -been captured from the Germans) met them outside. -She carried some scouting hydroplanes, and as she -turned out suitable to accommodate the wounded, -these were sent across to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the Sunday and Monday the ships bombarded -Yeni Kali and also a battery on a ridge, without doing -much damage. The hydroplanes went up on both -these days, and circled over the low ground where the -batteries lay hidden, and also over the bay inside. -No one in the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had as yet seen air-craft -reconnoitring an enemy position, so everybody came -up to have a look when the first one left the water -with its pilot and observer and commenced to climb -higher and higher in huge spirals.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When it had risen sufficiently high, it flew away -towards Yeni Kali with its hydroplane floats beneath -it, looking, for all the world, like a big bluebottle -which had stuck its feet in something sticky and could -not fly well for the weight of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they eagerly watched it, suddenly a puff-ball of -white smoke showed against the blue sky—below it—then -another nearer, two more a long way behind; -field-guns were firing shrapnel at it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not a soul on board had seen anything like this; -everyone simply stood and held his breath, and watched -the hydroplane and the white puff-balls following it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gosh! I'd like to be those chaps, young Orphan," -the Sub roared. "My jumping Jimmy! There's -excitement for you! Ten minutes of it worth a -life-time. Eh, you jam-stuffing sybarite?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very pretty to watch, but give me dry land," -Uncle Podger declared solemnly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little Padre, sucking a big pipe, his face -twitching with excitement, muttered "bother"—a fearful -swear-word for him—and spat out the end of his -mouthpiece. He had bitten it off in his agitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll stood with his pink-and-white face -gazing upwards, his mouth wide open, and his big -eyes opening and shutting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My jumping Jimmy! Life! Life! We're seeing -life, my jumping Doll," and the Sub lifted the -Assistant Clerk off the deck and dropped him again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you want to go back to the North Sea -patrol—my young Blot on the Landscape?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir;" and the China Doll curtseyed disrespectfully, -and bolted behind the stolid figure of Uncle -Podger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the King's Regulations and Gun-room instructions, -disrespect to superior officers is punishable -by death or such other punishment as is hereinafter—" began -the Clerk, but was interrupted by a shout of -"Look! She's coming down now!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hydroplane was coming back, the puff-balls -had ceased, and with long spiral swoops she slid down -on the water and spun along the surface to the </span><em class="italics">Aennie -Rickmers</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old Yellow Beard wants you, sir," a young A.B.—it -was Plunky Bill—interrupted, saluting the Sub.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! Who?" roared the Sub, glaring at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beg pardon, sir; I forgot myself, sir. I means -the Captain, sir. Wants you in his cabin, he does."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub, with a glare which froze poor Plunky -Bill, stalked aft.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some half-hour later, the half-deck sentry put his -head into the gun-room: "The Sub-lootenant wants -Mr. Orphan—in his cabin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That young gentleman had wagered that he could -drink a bottle of soda water more quickly than Bubbles -could, and happened to be employed in the process of -deciding this. The first trial had resulted in a dead -heat, but the second had ended rather disastrously for -both; and though the others patted him on the back -with any heavy, unsuitable article they could find, he -had not quite recovered himself when he burst into -the Sub's cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub was excited again. When he was excited -his eyes burnt like coals and his mouth was a slit, -tightly shut—shut like a rat-trap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Orphan! my jumping Orphan! we've got it—you -and I and your rotten old picket-boat. Guess what -we've got to do, my 'JJ.'! It's simply too grand!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lighted his pipe. The cabin was already so full -of smoke that the Orphan was coughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" he gasped—the soda water inside -him still busy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have a cigarette?" the Sub said, shoving a box -towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not eighteen yet!" the Orphan said, thinking -that the Sub perhaps had forgotten and might beat -him afterwards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll have to be twenty-eight to-night, my -jumping Son—thirty-eight; you've got the chance of -a lifetime. Squat down on the wash-stand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jumping Moses!—you and I have to go in to-night -and stick a light on a mark-buoy—a Turkish mark-buoy -they've fixed in the wrong place, close inshore it -is, under the old fort. What do you think of that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What mark-buoy?" asked the Orphan. "How ripping!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub drew a few rough outlines on a piece of -paper. "There's the fort, and that's the line of the -low bit of land sweeping away to the right. It sticks -out a bit farther along, and just off the 'stick out' -place the mark-buoy should mark a shoal, but the -Turks have shifted it farther in—just about there"—and -he marked a cross on the paper—"to bother us. -And we've got to find it to-night, and stick a red light -on it. How's that for 'good'?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll see us, won't they?" the Orphan said, -catching his breath again, for he knew that at least -three search-lights swept the approach and the -minefield—a big one on Yeni Kali itself, "Glaring -Gertrude", and two this side of the mine-field, from -somewhere down by the water's edge—"Peeping Tom" -and "Squinting Susan"; two much less powerful -lights these were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I bet they'll see us. If they don't before, they will -after we've fixed up that red light. The trawlers are -going to sweep through behind us, and that light's to -guide 'em," and the Sub smote the table with his great -clenched fist. "What price that for a good night's -work? Better than boarding ships in the North Sea, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right in under the fort we'll have to go?" asked -the Orphan, his breath still rather short; "and right -in under all those guns along the beach?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right in, my jumping Orphan! Rifle range! pistol -range! biscuit range! The </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> coming -in to have a bang at "Peeping Tom" and his pal. -My jumping O.! what a job!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When d'we shove off?" asked the Orphan, his -eyes blazing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seven o'clock—seven sharp. You bring the -grub—shark sandwiches—and a couple bottles of beer. -You're not rattled, my young Orphan?" he said, -springing up and clutching the midshipman's -shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a matter of fact the Orphan was rather taken -aback, and though he did his best to look frightfully -happy, it was not an absolute success.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub altered his voice. "Look here. Those -confounded trawler fellows have done their job two -days running, under heavy shell-fire, whilst we've -been behind armour. It's time we showed them the -way—understand? It's our turn to-night, yours and -mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm all right," the Orphan said. "It was rather -a startler, that's all. I'd been getting up a sing-song, -and we were going to court martial the China Doll."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Warn your boat's crew," the Sub continued, perfectly -satisfied and absolutely happy. "Tell 'em to -take some grub."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How about old Fletcher?" the Orphan asked. -"He's rather old for the job."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know him best. Sound him. Off you go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So Fletcher was sent for and told all that was -going to happen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you'd rather a younger man——" the Orphan -began, not knowing how to best say what he meant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Me, sir! Don't leave me behind. I'm as strong -as a horse," the old stoker broke in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right oh! The boat will be 'turned out' about -six-thirty. Don't forget to bring some grub."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't, sir, thank you," and Fletcher went for'ard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think we'll court-martial the China Doll -after all," the Orphan said when he went back to the -gun-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Rather! What rot! Of course we will! -Mustn't we, China Doll?" the others cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm not going to be there, anyway. You'll -have to find someone else for prisoner's friend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's up?" they asked. "Got the blight?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I've got a bit of a job on this evening, you -chaps!" And the Orphan did his best to look -unconcerned, but they saw that he was bubbling over with -excitement, and dragged the news out of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He might be captured, if they don't kill the poor -little chap first," Bubbles gurgled. "Fancy the -Orphan being a prisoner," the others shouted. "Poor -old Turks—hard luck on them—you'll have to wear -a fez—and be able to smoke all day—a nubbly-bubbly—won't -that be nice?—and have a dozen wives—and -get sixpence a day to keep them" (this was from -Uncle Podger).</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And when it was time for him to prepare the picket-boat, -they called after him: "If you don't come back -we'll finish your ginger nuts—oh, you pig, you're -taking them with you—that's not playing the game—we'll -write such a nice letter home—how we all loved -you—with all our names to it—p'raps your daddy -will send us a present—wouldn't a barrel of beer be -nice—good-bye, Orphan, we'll never forget you—if -he does send us one—not till it's finished."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they settled down to revise the list of officials -at the China Doll's coming court martial. Bubbles -would have to do prisoner's friend, although he was -not much good at it, because when he did think of -something funny to say, he couldn't say it for -laughing at what somebody else had just said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-night-s-adventure"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A Night's Adventure</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Orphan went up on the "booms" and found -Jarvis, the bearded coxswain, and Plunky Bill busy -touching up with black paint any bits of brasswork -on the picket-boat which might show in the searchlights. -They had already done this once, and were -making certain, by the aid of a lantern, that no shiny -place had been missed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he climbed into her he heard Plunky Bill say -saucily: "'Ow about the missus and the six kids? -Ain't you going to back out of this 'ere lark in the -dark?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ere, get on with yer black paint," growled Jarvis. -"'Ow about yer sweet'earts—five of 'em as I knows -on. You ain't going to get yerself killed, are you, -and break five bleeding 'earts? Eh, young feller-my-lad?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were so cheery that the Orphan lost that -funny feeling in his inside that had been so -uncomfortable. He climbed on board and went for'ard to -have a yarn with old Fletcher, who was busy in the -stokehold getting up steam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No sparks out of the funnels to-night," he said, -stooping down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll take good care of that, sir," Fletcher answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a very dark night, with a gentle breeze -blowing in towards Smyrna, and as the Orphan straightened -himself he saw the glare of the search-lights over -the mine-field, and that unpleasant sensation in his -stomach would come back. He tried to pretend it -was only indigestion, but knew it wasn't.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Peeping Tom", the nearest, was flickering here, -there, and everywhere, but it was a very poor light, -and he didn't mind that one; "Squinting Susan" -shone, twice as brightly as her brother, right across -where the picket-boat must pass; occasionally she -swept round to help him, as if she knew he wasn't of -much use.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then right behind these two was that beastly -"Glaring Gertrude"—a splendid light. She was -lighting up the salt-heaps on the opposite shore most -of the time; but when she did turn to have a look out -seawards, her beam lighted up the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, although -the ship was at least five miles away, making the -men's faces quite plain to see, and outlining the -masts and funnels and rigging in a most unpleasant -manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A signalman came along with the lantern and some -"cod" line. "That will be strong enough, sir, to -lash it to the buoy," and he held out the cod line in -the dark for the Orphan to feel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everything being ready, the picket-boat was lifted -out of her crutches, dangled over the side of the ship, -and lowered into the water. At seven o'clock she was -alongside the darkened ship, and the Sub, in monkey-jacket, -blue trousers, and sea boots, climbed down -and gave the order to "shove off".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What ho! my Explorer of Mine-fields—my -Lighter of Beacons—this beats the band!" the Sub -shouted, as the picket-boat left the shadow of the -ship's side, cleared her bow, and headed for the glare -of the search-lights and the mine-field.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Close to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> lay two trawlers and the -</span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> picket-boat—the Orphan could just make out -their obscure shadows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're going in to sweep," the Sub told him. -"The </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> picket-boat is going to show them -the way. My jumping Jimmy!" he roared, unable -to suppress his boisterous excitement. "Isn't this a -grand show?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The steamboat pushed her way along, and soon -the dark mass of the </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span> loomed up against -the blackness of the high hills behind her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On she went towards where they knew the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> -herself was lying, and as the Orphan strained his -eyes to pierce the darkness in towards the land to find -her, a match was struck in the bows, and a splutter of -tobacco sparks trailed down over the side. Jarvis -shouted angrily: "Put out that pipe!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No smoking, you fools!" barked the Sub to the -men crouching in the bows; and Jarvis growled: -"It's that 'ere Plunky Bill, 'e's a fair terror. 'E's -been an' gone an' blacked 'Kaiser Bill'," he added -after a pause. "'E said 'e was that shiny 'e'd give -the show away. 'E's a comic, that Plunky Bill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You haven't brought the tortoise?" the Orphan -asked incredulously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandpa 'as; 'e's got'im down in the stoke'old, -the old 'umbug; 'e's fair wild with Plunky Bill; 'arf -an 'our it took 'im to get the paint off 'im with a drop -of turps and a sweat-rag."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo! There's the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, sir," and the -Orphan saw her masts and funnels and cranes ahead -of him lighted up for a moment by a quick flash from -"Peeping Tom". Almost immediately a flame shot -out from her side—a roar—and a shell burst with -another splash of flame close to the shore end of that -search-light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Peeping Tom" disappeared at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then "Squinting Susan" twisted round to see what -had fired at her little brother; waggle waggle went -her beam trying to find the battleship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bang! Flash! Another gun—another shell blazed -up somewhere near her, and she too disappeared. -"They've doused their glim for 'em," Jarvis grunted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My jumping Jimmy! that's good work," the Sub -muttered joyously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in a second or two out shot "Peeping Tom" -and hunted about nervously, to switch off again as -another shell burst somewhere near him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he switched off, "Sister Susan" switched on -again, only to vanish as still another shell came along -her way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a jest, my Galloping Orphan! We'll get -past them both and not be seen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so they did. "Peeping Tom's" beam flashed -on them once, and they held their breath, but it swept -astern and left them in darkness, and before it worked -back the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> gun had blazed out, and it was -switched off even before the shell burst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Squinting Susan" was much too anxious to help -her brother to find the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, and didn't bother her -head about anything else; her crew, too, had -nerves—very badly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're past them both," the Sub said, chuckling -quietly, shaking his huge fist at them, and guffawing -loudly as he watched first one and then the other -switching on and then switching off—out would shoot -one light from shore—bang would go a gun—off -switched the light—darkness—the other light would -try—and disappear again. "Peeping Tom's" crew -were even more flustered than "Squinting Susan's"; -they hardly waited to be fired on before switching off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the funniest sight in the world.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bet Bubbles is nearly choking himself," the Sub -said, "and Uncle Podger making funny remarks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're 'court-martialling' the China Doll in the -gun-room," the Orphan told him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, of course; I forgot that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat was now steaming in darkness, -made more intense by the glare, two miles ahead of -her, of "Glaring Gertrude's" huge beam. This light, -by a lucky chance that night, never seemed to leave -the white salt-heaps on the opposite shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're right on top of the mines now, sonny. -Feeling gay?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ra—ther!" answered the Orphan, the uncomfortable -feeling in his stomach entirely forgotten.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Worth a guinea a minute! My jumping Jimmy, -it is!" the Sub kept saying to himself. "Starboard -a little! That's the ticket. Keep her as you go. -We're nearly past the mines now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the Orphan could see a dark line to -starboard—perhaps a thousand yards away—and knew -that this was the low-lying ground which swept along -to the right of Yeni Kali fort, the land from which -the guns had fired on the trawlers last Saturday.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If only "Glaring Gertrude" would stay where she -was and amuse herself counting the salt-heaps all -would be well. Once or twice she swept away from -them, and the Orphan caught his breath lest she -would swing right round on the picket-boat; but -every time, just at the critical moment, back she -would go to see if the salt-heaps were still there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat throbbed along; hardly any smoke -was coming out of her funnel, and only very seldom -a spark; old Fletcher might be a humbug, as Jarvis -said, but he </span><em class="italics">could</em><span> stoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Sub pointed out, right ahead, the square -dark shape of Yeni Kali itself, its upper edge—broken -and jagged where shells had crumbled it—silhouetted -against "Glaring Gertrude's" beam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're working it from somewhere in the fort -itself," he said, speaking very quietly, "and the fort -gives us a shadow. Splendid!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We've come too far; port your helm and ease her -a bit, Orphan. Get that lantern ready—stand by to -light it," he told the signalman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat turned in towards the darkness of -the land, and moved through the black water with -just a little rippling gurgle under her bows, whilst -the crew, for'ard, strained their eyes to find the -mark-buoy—the mark-buoy which the Turks had shifted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We ought to see it—it's white," muttered the Sub -impatiently, but their eyes were rather blinded by -looking at "Glaring Gertrude", and they could not -pick it up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub kept his eyes shut for a minute, and then -looked again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No result.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The line of shore was very close now, and it was -inconceivable that the Turkish look-outs at their guns, -all along it, could not see the picket-boat. Round and -round, first this way and then that, she steamed, -hunting everywhere for that mark-buoy—without -success.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To seaward the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, "Peeping Tom" and -his sister were still keeping up their noisy game of -"Peep Bo", I spot you!—Bang! No, you don't!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But for that, and the gurgling under the bows, and -the soft grating of the engines, there wasn't a sound. -Not a sound came from the shore close to them, not -even a dog barked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub grew restless. He knew that the two -trawlers and the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> picket-boat must already -be sweeping through the mine-field and expecting to -see the red light to guide them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He swore at the Turks, cursed himself, and above -all he cursed "Glaring Gertrude" and the fort for -making the darkness so pitch black round the picket-boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He steered out towards the opposite shore until he -almost ran into the big search-light's beam, swung -her round, and made another "cast", but the blackness -away from the glare and in the shadow of the -fort was absolutely inky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No buoy could he find.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at the luminous face of his wrist watch. -"It's getting on for eleven," he said bitterly. "The -trawlers must have nearly finished."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's a light, sir! Look, sir! To seaward!" -a man called excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep quiet, you fool," growled Jarvis, "or you'll -wake them Turks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They all looked back towards the mine-field, and saw -a small white light—like a small star twinkling low -down on the water—between them and the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The trawlers have finished—that's the signal," the -Sub swore angrily, "and we've not helped them. Go -back to the ship, Orphan. Curse it all!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then at last the Turks woke up. Flash! Bang! -Flash! Bang! Guns began firing one after the -other, and the Orphan ducked as he heard shells -whistling through the darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He could have kicked himself for ducking, because -the shells were not really coming his way, but -bursting hundreds of yards beyond the little white light. -It was that the Turks had seen, not the picket-boat. -She had, however, to pass it on her way back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which side shall I pass the light?" he asked -nervously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep inside; they won't see us, and they won't hit -us if they do—I almost wish they would," the Sub -growled miserably. "Shove her along!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the picket-boat increased speed and approached -the light the noise of shells came much nearer. One -especially seemed to be very close, and burst in the -water not a hundred yards ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Confound you! Keep your head still; you aren't -a jumping marionette," swore the Sub as the Orphan -ducked again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sorry!" he stuttered. "I try, but I can't help it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shove her along! Open her out! Let her rip!" -roared the Sub. He was more happy now that there -was some danger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat dashed through the water. She -came abreast the white light, swinging from a pole on -a buoy quite unconcernedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That marks the end of the channel they've swept," -the Sub bellowed; but the Sub was much too interested -in the shells which were humming and shrieking, -right over the boat now, some of them bursting as -they struck the sea, others falling in with a "flomp". -Another moment and the white light was left behind, -wriggling excitedly as the wash of the steamboat made -the buoy dance. Another hundred yards and they -were out of the line of fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a sudden shout from the bows: "Something -ahead, sir!" and out of the darkness came cries -and shouts for help. They steered towards them, -stopping engines, and found two men in an almost -sinking dinghy—a trawler's dinghy—one of them trying -to paddle with bits of bottom board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They hauled them in and left the boat behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men were numbed and half dazed. One, a -signalman, had a cut on his head and was bleeding -freely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"285's blown up, sir; we're the only ones left."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Neither knew anything, except that there had been a -great heave under their trawler and they'd found -themselves in the water, swum about, found the dinghy, and -got into her. One man had started feebly baling her -out with his hands, whilst the other had ripped up one -of her bottom boards and tried to paddle to the ships.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She was only a-goin' round in circles and a-drifting -inshore," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They hadn't seen any more of the crew, but the Sub -stopped engines and halloed into the darkness. No -answer coming back, he returned to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> at -full speed. "Squinting Susan" and "Peeping Tom" -had to be passed, but they and the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> were still -busy with their little game, and so no one bothered -about them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Until the Sub brought the news, no one knew of the -disaster to trawler No. 285—not even the second trawler, -which had already returned. Some of the crew of the -</span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> picket-boat had seen a sudden glare on the -water—-like a flash running along the surface—which -they thought was a shell bursting. Nobody had heard -any explosion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In case there were any more survivors, the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> -picket-boat went back to search the mine-field, -and luckily found the skipper of the trawler and two -more men drifting about on wreckage. Even they -could give no definite account of what happened. One -thought he heard a noise; another that he'd seen a -flash; they all remembered a great heave under them -and finding themselves in the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so, in this sad way, the night's adventure ended; -and the picket-boat having been hoisted in, the Orphan, -very miserable, undressed and turned in to his hammock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub was wretched. He had not found the -mark-buoy, and had done nothing to help in any way, -and he cursed himself for not searching the mine-field -area thoroughly, and for leaving the trawler skipper -and those two men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He wished someone would kick him very hard.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next forenoon the Orphan was busy in his picket-boat -collecting the crews of the other trawlers—some -men from each—and bringing them aboard the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>. He also had to fetch from the </span><em class="italics">Aennie -Rickmers</em><span> her captain—a positively enormous man—and -the flying officers, one of whom was a jovial burly -Frenchman with a red beard, very proud of being -called "Ginger".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the quarter-deck, officers and men fell in, -bare-headed, whilst the little pale-faced Padre read the -burial service for those missing from the blown-up -trawler.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing more happened that day, but on the -Wednesday the wind rose, and by nightfall was blowing -hard—a very black night it was—and at about two -o'clock in the morning an explosion occurred under -the bows of the </span><em class="italics">Aennie Rickmers</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She made signals of distress, and began to sink -rapidly by the head. There had been rumours for -some days that two Austrian submarines had escaped -from the Adriatic; it might be a torpedo from one of -them, or perhaps from some Turkish torpedo-boat. -Some suggested floating mines; others that an -explosion had occurred inside the </span><em class="italics">Aennie Rickmers</em><span> -herself. No one knew exactly what had happened. All -that anyone did know, when Captain Macfarlane took -the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> close to her, was that she was sinking; -that her "dago" crew of Levantine nondescripts had -deserted in all her boats; and that her English officers, -the flying officers, their men, and the four wounded -from the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> were left without any means of -saving themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A most unpleasant hour-and-a-half followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first the China Doll knew of it was being -roughly punched in the ribs and shaken. He woke -to hear men passing from hammock to hammock, -singing out: "Turn out, sir, turn out; submarines -about; all hands on deck, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He didn't lie long after that. He was down, had -pulled on his trousers, found a coat and cap, fumbled -in his chest until he found his swimming-collar, and -was blowing it up round his neck before he was really -awake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles, whose hammock was slung next to his, -had gone to sleep again. He prodded him feverishly. -"Submarines, Bubbles! All hands on deck! Get your -swimming-collar!" he squeaked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, bother! Curse you!" grunted Bubbles. -"You aren't pulling my leg? Oh, hang it!" he -grumbled, as he saw all the other snotties tumbling -into their clothes, officers coming out of their cabins -into the dark, crowded "half-deck", and heard the -banging down of armoured hatches. "I do hate this -beastly war. Breakfast at seven; then a cold bath at -two in the morning. Beastly!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll went up on the dark quarter-deck -and hunted round for someone to talk to. His teeth -were chattering and his knees were trembling—it was -so dark and cold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's happened?" he asked, stumbling across -Uncle Podger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Something blown a hole in the </span><em class="italics">Aennie Rickmers</em><span>, -and the Sub's gone across in the cutter to bring back -our wounded."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did it? Was it a submarine?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't bother; no one knows. Come and have a -look at her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took him round to the other side of the turret, -into the wind, and out in the pitch-black night they -could just make out the darker mass of the hydroplane -ship, apparently tipped up by the stern, and -a signal-lamp flashing on board her. They heard -shrieks coming from her, and the China Doll's heart -beat fearfully fast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Near them, on the quarter-deck, the querulous voice -of Dr. O'Neill, the Fleet-Surgeon, was lamenting that -he had ever come to sea. "Mother of Moses!" he -groaned, as "Glaring Gertrude" turned her light -towards the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> and everybody's face showed up, -and the turret and the superstructure, the masts and -the funnels, stood out clearly against it. "Mother of -Moses, they'll torpedo us next if we wait here much -longer! They </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> see the ship every time that -beastly thing passes across us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As "Glaring Gertrude" swept away, and everybody -and everything was left in darkness again, the -Fleet-Paymaster's loud, cheery voice bellowed: "Cheer -up, old 'C.D.'; if you have to take to the water, you -won't find any whisky in it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The officers and men standing by tittered, for they -well knew that Dr. O'Neill was a rabid teetotaler, and -that "C.D." stood for "Converted Drunkard".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've never tasted the beastly stuff in my life, and -know it you do!" snapped the Doctor furiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sadly lacking in the sense of humour you are, -old C.D. What could be funnier than the whole -seven hundred and fifty of us to go drifting ashore, -under those salt-heaps, with swimming-collars round -our necks?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Fleet-Surgeon stalked away, muttering angrily: -"I hate fools."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time everything that could be done to make -the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> safe, in case she was attacked, had been -done; water-tight doors and hatches were all closed; -the Orphan was under the fore-bridge with his -6-pounder guns' crews; Bubbles was on the -after-shelter deck with his; look-out men, all round the -quarter-deck and fo'c'sle, peered into the darkness; -the Sub had gone across to rescue the wounded men -and, if need be, bring back everybody from the -</span><em class="italics">Aennie Rickmers</em><span>, and all the officers and men who -had no jobs to do stood waiting for whatever was -going to happen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To those who realized what might happen, and -who thought it more than probable that whatever -had fired a torpedo at the hydroplane ship—and by -now everybody said it was a torpedo which had blown -a hole in her—would come back out of the darkness, -wait for that search-light to show up the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and -then take a pot-shot at her;—to those, that next -hour-and-a-half was probably the most trying, and longest, -in their lives. The wind blew so fiercely, and the -water was so cold and dark, that there was very -little chance of anyone being picked up once the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> did sink, as there was every prospect of her -doing—the poor old ship—once a torpedo got home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately most people have not vivid -imaginations, and to go into the battery during this time no -one would have imagined that anything at all out of -the way was happening. The men crowded there, just -discernible by the blue-stained fighting-lights, walked -up and down or stood in knots, smoking, and talking -quietly about everything under the sun except what -was going on. It was only when that hateful -search-light passed along the ship, and one saw that -practically all these men had their swimming-collars blown -up round their necks, that one realized that they did -know what the next few moments might bring them, -and that, knowing this, they did not worry about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All had been done that could be done; of course, -the </span><em class="italics">Aennie Rickmers</em><span> and their own wounded messmates -aboard her could not be left in danger, and old -"Yellow Beard", as they called Captain Macfarlane, -was on the bridge up there above them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So why bother?—and they didn't.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Uncle Podger, going up on the boat deck—really -to get away from the China Doll, who would worry -him with questions—stumbled against someone -crawling on his hands and knees. The search-light -sweeping round just then, he saw that it was Fletcher. -"What are you hunting about there for?" he asked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't find the tortoise, sir," the old man said. -"I did not want to leave him behind if anything -happened."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He can swim, can't he? You'll be able to hold -on to him, and he'll tow you ashore!" Uncle Podger -laughed, and tried to help find "Kaiser Bill", waiting -for "Glaring Gertrude" to come back again and -throw a little light into the corners the "savage" -beast most frequented. He left Fletcher still looking -for him, and on his way for'ard to pass the time with -the Orphan, collided with the Pimple stumbling -along from the bridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's safe—she's only got her fore compartment -flooded—-the bulkhead's holding. Our wounded are -coming across in the cutter. The Captain's sent me -to tell the Fleet-Surgeon," and away the Pimple -dashed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes later the cutter with the wounded -splashed alongside. They were hoisted in and taken -to the sick-bay. Two of these—Cookey, the chief -cook, and the leading stoker—both of whom had had -their legs smashed, were very big men indeed; and -no one who has not had to do it can imagine the -difficulty of handling helpless men of that great size and -weight, and lowering them into, or hoisting them out -of small boats even in daylight. In darkness it is -much more tedious and awkward; yet, abandoned by -their crew, and with the ship apparently sinking under -them, the first thing the officers of the </span><em class="italics">Aennie -Rickmers</em><span> and the French and English flying officers and -men did, after they had been thrown out of their -bunks by the force of the explosion, was to get the -wounded ready to be lowered over the side, and, -directly the </span><em class="italics">Achates'</em><span> cutter had come alongside, to -lower them safely into it. This was an incident of -quiet, unostentatious coolness and courage which -deserves recording. It is, perhaps, easy to be courageous -at 2 p.m.; at 2 a.m. it is a very different matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And another thing must be put down. As the first -of those two helpless men was being carried for'ard, -an officer—the first he met, and it was not the -Fleet-Surgeon—took off his own swimming-collar, pushed -it into his hands, and disappeared in the dark before -he could give it back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shortly afterwards the miserable "dago" crew -came screaming alongside and begged to be taken -on board. They were; and they'll never forget the -"feel" of the ammunition boots of the tender-hearted -marines who shepherded them that night into a -casemate and locked them up inside. Then off went the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> to get out of the limit of "Glaring Gertrude's" -range of vision, and to lose herself in the pitch-black -night, where neither torpedo-boat nor submarine could -find her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub had been left behind in the damaged ship, -to shore up that fore bulkhead and to keep an eye on -it all night. He was as happy as a "fiddler" to be -able to make a good job of it and "wash out" the -recollection of his bad luck and judgment two nights -previously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The remainder of the Honourable Mess crowded -down into the gun-room with the joyous relief of -danger past, demanding sardines, onions, and beer. -They got them, too, at that unearthly hour of half-past -three in the morning, for the purple-faced Barnes -and the miserable little messman knew from long -experience what would be wanted, and had spent the -last half-hour preparing for them. It all went down -as "extras", so the messman didn't mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pimple brought the news that it was a torpedo-boat -that had attacked the </span><em class="italics">Aennie Rickmers</em><span>. "A -signalman saw her dropping astern directly after the -noise—the Navigator says he saw it too," he told them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have an onion, Pimple?" they jeered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll, at the first rumour of "sharks and -onions", had dashed down from the quarter-deck, -entirely forgetting that his swimming-collar was still -round his neck; and they made him keep it there—blown -up, too—so that he had the very greatest difficulty -to swallow his fair share of the food—as for his -glass of beer, Rawlinson drank half that—before the -Commander sent the sentry to tell the Pink Rat to -"'out lights' in the gun-room and stop that -confounded noise!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they crept noisily to their hammocks in the -half-deck, and, marvellous to relate, slept like tops.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This finally concluded the operations off Smyrna—they -were only intended temporarily to divert the -Turks' attention—and a few days later the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> -and </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span>, with the trawlers, were recalled to the -Dardanelles, and the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> ordered to Port Said to -repair her small damages, leaving "Peeping Tom" -and "Squinting Susan" to play "I spy you" by -themselves, and "Glaring Gertrude" to go on counting -her salt-heaps on the opposite shore or not, just -as she pleased.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="off-to-the-dardanelles"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Off to the Dardanelles</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> arrived at Port Said on the 18th March -and made fast, head and stern, to the Senior Naval -Officer's buoys, off Navy House.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was on this date that the combined French and -British fleet made the attack on The Narrows—the -attack which ended so disastrously with the loss of the -</span><em class="italics">Ocean</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Irresistible</em><span>, and </span><em class="italics">Bouvet</em><span>, and the crippling of -the </span><em class="italics">Inflexible</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Gaulois</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A very bad day it was, only relieved by some daring -acts of bravery, of which none so roused the -admiration of the whole fleet as the courage displayed by -those destroyers which went alongside the mortally -wounded </span><em class="italics">Ocean</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Irresistible</em><span>, and removed their -crews under a concentrated fire from many heavy guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was magnificent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> lay comfortably at Port Said all -that tragic day, making preparations for repairing the -damage caused by the Smyrna shells, and talking by -wireless to her chummy ship the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span>, anchored -off Suez, at the other end of the Canal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barely six weeks ago the Turks had made their -feeble attack on the Suez Canal, and of course the -first thing that the Honourable Mess decided to do -was to visit Kantara and Tussum, where the fighting -had taken place. The Lamp-post had an elder brother -on the staff at Ismailia, the Pimple had a long-lost -cousin in an Indian regiment at Kantara, and by dint -of much worrying of these two unfortunate young -soldiers, everyone had the opportunity of visiting these -places and picking up a few bullets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Anyhow, they had a very joyous three weeks, only -slightly damped by the almost entire disappearance of -the damage done by the Smyrna shells; but a few -holes remained in one funnel, and they looked forward -intensely to showing these to their chums in the -</span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span>. Eventually that ship came back through -the Canal, the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> followed her outside, and both -of them steamed away to join the Eastern Mediterranean -Squadron at its base at Mudros, the harbour -in the island of Lemnos, sixty miles or so from the -end of the Gallipoli Peninsula and the commencement -of the Dardanelles. At last they were to take a hand -in "The Great Adventure".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At two o'clock in the afternoon of the 12th April -they both slipped through the "gate" in the submarine -net, and anchored in that great land-locked -harbour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was extraordinarily impressive to see the enormous -assemblage of ships there—both French and British -ships of every kind—battleships, cruisers, destroyers, -submarines, huge transports, store ships, colliers, -auxiliaries of all sorts, two white-painted hospital -ships, trawlers, and tugs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the top of the harbour lay the little white town -of Mudros, with its white twin-towered Greek church, -and its row of spidery windmills on the ridge behind -it; though the Honourable Mess had not much time -to gaze open-mouthed at all these things, and to grin -with pleasure when the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span> anchored in the -wrong place and was obliged to shift billet; because a -collier came alongside almost immediately, and down -they had to go, get into "coaling rig", and, for the -rest of that bright sunny afternoon, "coal ship".</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Everybody knew that the next attack on the -Dardanelles would be a combined naval and military -operation, and as transport after transport came steaming -into Mudros harbour, the enthusiasm and excitement -increased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Also the Honourable Mess dined their pals of the -</span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span>, and proudly showed them the few traces -still remaining of the damage done to the ship at -Smyrna. This was a beautiful occasion, because it -washed out all memory of the incident of the -"sea-gulls"—not one of them mentioned it—and also -because the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span> snotties introduced a delightful -new form of "drag" hunt round the "half-deck", the -"drag" being a piece of decomposed cheese (which -they brought with them) and some Tabasco sauce and -Chile vinegar dropped discreetly at intervals. As a -special privilege, the "War Baby" was invited to -the "meet", and the "Youngest Thing in Marine -Subalterns" joyfully left the exalted atmosphere of -the ward-room, unbuttoned the trouser-straps under -the soles of his boots—the straps which kept his -trousers and their broad scarlet stripes so beautifully -straight—and prepared for the fray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Blindfolded, and on hands and knees, these young -gentlemen enjoyed a famous "run"; and though the -Padre did object to the "drag" being placed on the -pillow in his cabin bunk, even that did not seriously -diminish their enjoyment. As a matter of fact, it -slightly added to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Exactly what part the Navy would take in the -approaching "landing" on the Gallipoli Peninsula -no one exactly knew; but when the news came that -men were being told off for "beach parties", and then -when the Pink Rat, Bubbles, and the Lamp-post -were ordered to be prepared to land with them and -provide themselves with some sort of khaki uniform, -excitement rose to fever pitch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within half an hour the Pink Rat appeared in the -mess in proper soldiers' kit—beautifully fitting—which, -he explained, "he'd brought out with him in case of -accident".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you went to Heaven you'd turn up at the gate, -and sign your name in old Peter's book with a pair -of wings on and a mouth-organ!" the Sub snorted -when he saw him; and Uncle Podger suggested that -"he probably had a tail, with a sting on it, and a -brand-new shovel, stowed away somewhere on board, -lest, "in case of accident", he found himself in the -other place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The whole Honourable Mess concerned themselves -with the fitting out of Bubbles and the Lamp-post. -Proper khaki was unobtainable—at that time—so they -dyed their white uniform in Condy's fluid, and as it -shrunk in the process, and the resulting colour was a -dirty yellow, streaked with brown, the effect was not -good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Most unsatisfactory!" said Uncle Podger, when -they first tried it on and he saw the Lamp-post's ankles -and wrists sticking out far beyond the ends of trousers -and sleeves, and Bubbles hardly able to breathe in his. -"Most unsatisfactory! It will be an insult to the -Honourable Mess if either of you are found 'corpsed'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mustn't tell them you belong to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -when they come to bury you," the others shouted. -"You must promise that!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're perfect scarecrows," roared the Sub when -he saw them—"a pair of confounded convicts!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everybody laughed at them and devoutly envied -them—and they laughed at each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rawlinson, who prided himself on being a really -great poet, burst out with:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Two little convicts going out to fight,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>One had his clothes too short, the other much too tight!"</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There was a roar of laughter as the Honourable -Mess lifted up their voices, chanting this, and dancing -round the quaint pair, whilst Rawlinson, exhausted -with the production of this exquisite couplet, retired -to a corner to think out something which would rhyme -with khaki.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post, grimacing, and trying to twist -himself so that he could get a back view, didn't know or -care what he looked like, but said he felt "like a -prize idiot".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How nice to feel natural for once, Lampy!" that -insubordinate officer, the China Doll, squeaked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was simply asking for trouble. The two -convicts chased him round the table, just missing him as -he dashed out into the half-deck. Piercing shrieks -for help followed, and the others rushed out to rescue -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A glorious scrap followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At any rate," said the Sub, when they'd come -back again to repair damages, and the Hun had -apologized for tearing the Pink Rat's coat-collar, "you'll -both frighten the old Turks. That's one comfort."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There were so many things to keep up the excitement -during those days of preparation. The transports, -with their cheering loads of British, Australians, -New Zealanders, French, and Algerian troops; the -quaint old battleships from home, the dear old "mine -bursters", with their clumsy, projecting spars and -tackle, over the bow, for booming off mines; the -balloon ship practising its funny, yellow gas-bag at the -outer anchorage, and the enemy aeroplanes and their -bombs. These last were, at first, a source of immense -delight to the Honourable Mess, but eventually they -became a little sorry for them—they flew so high and -dropped their bombs so very unsuccessfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How very disappointing!" said the Lamp-post -one day. "Just fancy having brought along those -bombs, to drop 'em harmlessly, and then have to fly -back, all that way, without having done any damage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was quite serious about it, and, as a matter of -fact, one could not but feel sorry for the poor chap, -up there in his Taube, who, having expended all his -four bombs uselessly, found he had to fly back some -sixty miles to wind'ard, before he could go and "turn -in" and try to forget about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, one day, they heard that their old friend the -torpedo-boat, down at Smyrna, had come out to sea -and fired three torpedoes at a crowded transport -without hitting her; and by nightfall came the news that -she had been chased, driven ashore, and destroyed by -gun-fire. That was very good "business".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next came the order that steel plates were to be -built round the steering-wheels of the steam pinnace -and the picket-boat, to protect the midshipmen and -coxswains from rifle-fire. Almost at the same time -the Orphan and the Hun (who was in charge of the -steam pinnace) had been ordered to provide themselves -with khaki, and told that their boats would be -required to tow the soldiers to the beaches, on the day -of the grand attack.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a great moment for both of them; and what -a mess they made of their hands and clothes with -Condy's fluid, and what prize burglars they looked -when at last they showed themselves arrayed for war!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every ship had to supply one or more steamboats, -and each ship devised its own rifle protection. The -</span><em class="italics">Achates'</em><span> boats had a steel plate about five feet high -bolted to the deck, in front of their steering-wheels, -with a narrow, horizontal slit just below the upper -edge, so that when those behind it stooped down -under cover they could steer through this. The ends -of the plates curved back a couple of feet, so as to give -side protection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some ships built regular steel boxes with "all -round" protection, others carried the side plates so -far aft that they protected men standing in the -stern-sheets; and the snotties in the boats with the least -protection made great fun of those who had more. -Probably, among the hundred thousand men in that -harbour, during the days prior to the landing, the twenty -or thirty snotties in charge of these steamboats were -the most supremely happy of all.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Hun and the Orphan went away, several times, -and practised towing the transports' boats. Each -steamboat had to tow four of these, one behind the -other. On one day the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers came -on board the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and practised climbing down into -the boats, down specially constructed wooden ladders, -and were then towed ashore in twenty-four packed -boats, each four being towed by a steamboat, and all -six steamboats steaming in line abreast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On another day all the snotties and men "told off" -to land as beach parties, or as crews of boats, were -fallen in on the quarter-deck, and Dr. Crayshaw -Gordon, mounting the after capstan, gave them a few -words of advice and instruction in case any of them -were hit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't frighten them, Doc," the Commander had -hinted previously—and he didn't. He had such a -funny way of "putting" things that he had the men -laughing in no time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He explained how the little first-aid dressing should -be used, tearing open the cover, showing them the -pads to go next the wounds, the pieces of waterproof -to cover the pads, and the bandage to wrap round all. -He held up the safety-pin which is in every packet—held -it so that all could see—and finished up with: -"You men will probably come under heavy fire; -some of you will get bullets through you; but if any -of you come back wounded </span><em class="italics">without</em><span> your safety-pins, -there will be the devil's own row." He had such a -quaint, nervous, amusing way of talking, and was so -kind-hearted and so popular with the men, that they -grinned and guffawed with amusement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of those men who stood there that afternoon, fifteen -were killed on the day of landing, and some -twenty-five or thirty wounded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God, they have no imagination," Dr. Gordon -told the Commander, "and can't realize what -is in front of them!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They simply don't bother to think about it, Doc."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the 23rd April the first move began. Transports -crammed with cheering troops, cruisers, and -battleships slipped out through the "gate" in the -net. The </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> spent the night at sea, and -anchored off Tenedos Island next morning. Here -were gathered the men-of-war, transports, fleet -sweepers, and trawlers told off for the landings at the -end of the Peninsula. It was a dull, grey-looking -day, and a fresh breeze rising in the morning made -the sea choppy, and must have caused intense anxiety -to those in command, because the great landing was -to take place next morning, and unless the sea was -absolutely smooth, boat-work would be much more -difficult.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That afternoon the Sub was ordered to go in the -Orphan's picket-boat as "second in command" of the -six steamboats which were to tow the battalion ashore. -He was dumb with delight, and the Orphan almost -as pleased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the afternoon the breeze did die down, and the -Turks sent an aeroplane to see what was going on. -It dropped a few bombs from a great height into the -water between the ships, and flew back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Later on, the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> came along and anchored -close to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>. Poor old </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>! She -was to make her last voyage that night, with 2000 -troops on board, to run herself aground under the -mediæval castle of Sedd-el-Bahr early next morning, -and make her name famous in the annals of the -British Navy and Army for many ages.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Large square openings had been cut in her side, -and under these ran plank gangways, meeting at the -bows, where a hinged platform was all ready to be -lowered into the hopper and the lighters which were -to fill the gap between her stem and the shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her soldiers were intended to pour out of these -openings, along the planks, down into the hopper -and lighters, and so ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At dusk the 1st Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers came -on board—old soldiers all of them. Very silently and -quietly they "fell in" on the quarter-deck and in the -batteries, unslung their packs, laid their rifles -alongside them, and were dismissed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the moment for which the bluejackets were -waiting. They had a great feast prepared on the -mess deck, and hustled them down to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Five of the subalterns were grabbed by the Honourable -Mess and brought down to the gun-room; the -remaining officers were entertained in the ward-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God!" roared the Sub, "I'm coming in -with you chaps to-morrow, or I couldn't face you. -Buy up the place—beat the China Doll—break the -blooming furniture—chuck your gear on the deck -outside. Bless you, we'll give you a better dinner -than you had in that old transport of yours. And -there's my cabin for two of you—the bunk for one, -and a shake-down for another. Barnes! Barnes! -Bring round the sherry, and tell 'em to hurry up with -the dinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every delicacy the gun-room store possessed -appeared on the table. The soldiers swore it was the -best dinner they'd had since they left England; and -the Honourable Mess spun them yarns about Smyrna—by -order of the Sub, who had forbidden them to -mention the morrow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dinner over, Uncle Podger took charge or the five -subalterns, and piloted them into the crowded -ward-room, where a "sing-song" had already been started. -The Sub, the Pink Rat, Bubbles, the Lamp-post, -the Orphan, and the Hun changed quietly into their -war gear. The Sub, the Orphan, and the Hun -climbed down into the two steamboats, went across -and made fast to the trawler which was to tow them -and their eight transport boats (empty) across to the -Peninsula during the night. The other three snotties, -laden with leather gear, water-bottles, field-glasses, -revolvers, ammunition-pouches, haversacks with food -for twenty-four hours, and blankets rolled up in their -straps, were taken across to the </span><em class="italics">Newmarket</em><span>—fleet -sweeper—along with all the men of the beach parties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sing-song in the ward-room was in full swing -as the last crowded boat pushed off, and up through -the open ward-room skylights came the rousing, -roaring chorus of "John Peel", following them in the -darkness until they were almost alongside the -</span><em class="italics">Newmarket</em><span>. Many of those who sang it were singing it -for the last time.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At ten o'clock the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> weighed anchor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sing-song went on until nearly eleven, but -breakfast had been ordered at a quarter to four, so -older heads suggested sleep. The "Lancashire" -officers were stowed away in cabins, beds were made up -for them on the deck; the ward-room cushions and -arm-chairs all helped, and the men of the battalion -lay down on the upper deck, with their heads on their -packs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At 3.15 everyone turned out, and half an hour later -breakfast was ready for the soldiers—eggs and a good -helping of bacon, bread and jam and butter to fill up -corners, and as much coffee, tea, or cocoa as they -wanted to wash it down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was all the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> could do for them, and, -little though it was, everyone felt happy that each -officer and man of that grand battalion started on -The Great Adventure with a good breakfast under -his belt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little Padre, whose gentle soul had been in -anguish all that night, was not the only one who -wished that their mothers and wives could know this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At half-past four the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> stopped engines; the -Lancashire Fusiliers "fell in", and out of the darkness -covering an absolute calm, almost unruffled sea, came -the six steamboats and the twenty-four transports' -boats, each with its crew of five bluejackets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Into these the soldiers filed, down the long ladders, -and in twenty minutes the last boats had been filled -and towed away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There are no words which will properly and soberly -describe the admiration felt by the officers and men of -the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> for that battalion. When the last boat -had shoved off, and the transports' boats and their -six steamboats had taken up their stations in line -abreast and began to move slowly away, Captain -Macfarlane turned to the Commander and said gravely: -"I've seen, Commander, a good deal of war on shore, -but I have never seen anything which has stirred -me so greatly as the quietness and discipline of those -fellows—as the majesty of their bearing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went up on the bridge, and the </span><em class="italics">Achates'</em><span> -engines rumbled slowly ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now a quarter to five on Sunday morning, -the 25th April, the greyest of shadowy dawns—the -formless clouds were grey—a darker streak of grey, -where grey sea and sky met, was the Gallipoli -Peninsula; and three grey patches, darker still, were the -</span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Cornwallis</em><span>, and </span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span>, close inshore, -waiting for the moment to commence bombarding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Behind the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, like a shoal of minnows, -followed the steamboats and their twenty-four transports' -boats; behind them were fleet sweepers, and looming -indistinctly in the distance, as wide as the eye could -pierce, came transports and store-ships in great -numbers, the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> among them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On board the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> the fo'c'sle and after shelter -deck were crowded with officers and men anxiously -gazing ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know that R.H.A. officer," the China Doll -kept on telling anyone who would listen to him—"that -cheery chap who's going in with them to make -signals. He promised to send me off a Turk's rifle. -Wasn't that decent of him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the bridge Captain Macfarlane, tugging nervously -at his pointed beard, and standing next to the -Commander, muttered to himself: "Thank God! they -had a good breakfast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Every one of them, sir," the Commander jerked -out, in the most matter-of-fact way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's nothing like having your stomach full to -keep up your pluck, Commander. It makes all the -difference."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect it does, sir. The books say so, at any rate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know it does," the Captain said, thinking of -what he had been through himself, and turning to -speak to the Navigator, busy taking bearings.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The thudding of heavy guns broke the stillness, -and splashes of flames lighted up the greyness of -the daybreak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo! they've started!" said the Commander. -"They're three minutes late by my watch. I expect -the blessed thing is losing again. I'm hanged if I -know what's wrong with it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Great Adventure[#] had commenced.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The Australian and New Zealand Army Corps -had already effected a -landing beyond Gaba Tepe, 15 miles to the north-east.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-landing-on-gallipoli"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Landing on Gallipoli</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For half an hour there was one constant rumbling of -guns fired by the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Cornwallis</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Prince -George</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson</em><span>, and </span><em class="italics">Agamemnon</em><span>; and shells -from the first two of these, bursting in scores on the -last half-mile of the Peninsula, hid it almost -continuously under a cloud of lyddite smoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The six picket-boats steamed in steadily towards this -smoke cloud with the Lancashire Fusiliers behind -them, not advancing very rapidly because the current, -flowing out of the Dardanelles, was against them, and -the transports' boats were so heavily laden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The crews of these boats had already tossed their -oars—four in each boat—in readiness to pull in to the -land when the steamboats should cast them off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan steered his picket-boat—the fifth boat -from the left—with one hand; in the other he held a -half-eaten sandwich. Jarvis stood one side of him, -the Sub the other, all three behind the bullet-proof -protecting shield. Jarvis had slept a little through -the night; the other two had not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Practise stooping and steering through the slit," -the Sub ordered. "If you keep standing up and -looking over the top, you'll get a bullet in your head -when the time comes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there can't possibly be anyone left alive -there," the Orphan protested, as he watched the shells -bursting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just wait! You'll soon find out!" the Sub answered -grimly, and noticing that the picket-boat was -forging ahead of the line, sung out to the stoker petty -officer to "ease her". This man was looking out of -the engine-room hatch, just in front of the bullet-proof -screen, and popped his head down to give another -twist to the steam-valve. Old Fletcher, peering out -of the stokehold hatch, farther for'ard, thought he, too, -had been told to do so, and also bobbed his head -down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Has the tortoise come along with us this time?" -the Sub asked. The Orphan did not know; but Jarvis -snorted: "Yes, 'Kaiser Bill's' 'ere all right; the old -'umbug!"—though whether he meant the tortoise was -a humbug, or the old stoker, he didn't say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat fell back into line, and the Hun, -standing behind his bullet-proof screen in the pinnace -on the right, waved cheerfully across to the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now clear daylight—about a quarter-past five.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The battleships still pounded the end of the -Peninsula, and the six steamboats drew ahead of the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, which had now stopped engines. Behind -them followed the trawlers, and the </span><em class="italics">Newmarket</em><span>, fleet -sweeper, with the Pink Rat, Bubbles, the Lamp-post, -and their beach parties, and behind her—far -behind—came many transports.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>," called the Orphan, -pointing away over the starboard quarter to where she -was coming along, very slowly, towing the hopper -and lighters which were presently to bridge the gap -between her bows and the shore. After her, and with -difficulty keeping pace with her, more ships' -steamboats towed half a battalion of the Dublin Fusiliers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's Cape Tekke—that high end bit, and that's -Cape Helles—the higher cliff to the right, with the -white lighthouse 'affair' on top," the Sub explained. -"We've to land in between them. There's a bay -there—'W' beach—underneath that smoke."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sun itself had not yet been visible, but now it -shot up from behind a distant ridge, humped like the -back of a huge pig, and blazed straight in their faces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old Achi Baba," said the Sub, shielding his eyes. -"If they get as far as that to-night, they'll be able to -look down on the Narrows and on the forts there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Navigator told the Pimple that the soldiers -expect to have dinner at Achi Baba," the Orphan -said. "I jolly well hope they will. Isn't this sun -beastly? I can't see where I'm going."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, don't get too far ahead, and don't look into -it," the Sub growled. "This isn't a race; ease down -and give the pinnace a chance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were now about a thousand yards off the -smoke cloud which concealed "W" beach, and the -incessant crash of high-explosive shells bursting there, -and on the high ground above it, made the most -infernal din. At this point the two left-hand -steamboats diverged from the other four and steamed -towards the rocks under the actual end of the Peninsula; -the Sub, with the remainder, maintained the original -course. But "W" beach, and the scooped-out gully -which led upwards to the high ground, and the cliffs -at each side of it were hidden in dense clouds of lyddite -smoke and by a thick morning haze which lay on the -water. Unfortunately the sun, shining over Achi Baba, -shone full on this smoke and mist, and lighted it up to -such a dazzling extent that from the boats one could -see nothing whatever of the shore, and judging -distances was impossible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boats were now drawing very near their destination, -and the Sub had all the responsibility on his -shoulders of judging the moment when to slip them. -A blast from his steam-whistle was to be the signal -for all to be cast off, and Jarvis picked up the whistle -lanyard and only waited the order to tug it. Plunky -Bill, in the bows, kept a sharp look-out for'ard, and -every now and then dipped the boat-hook in the water -to find its depth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub, his face set and anxious, seized a -megaphone and shouted: "Out oars!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The transports' boats' crews immediately dropped -their tossed oars into the rowlocks, and the soldiers in -these boats turned round to have a look where they -were going. They had, until then, been sitting -stolidly in the boats with only their packs and the -backs of their caps visible, and this sudden swinging -round of heads as the oars dropped, and the almost -simultaneous appearance of five hundred faces, made -an unforgettable sight. Nothing could be seen through -the dazzling smoke and mist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's twenty to six," the Sub jerked out, looking at -his wrist watch. "We're a few minutes late. We -ought to be right there now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not a shot had been fired from shore, and the ship's -shells were still bursting—very close the explosions -seemed to be. "They must be able to see us," the -Orphan whispered, nervously peering through the -steering slit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then there was a yell from Plunky Bill: "Stakes -right ahead, sir! Only four foot of water, sir!" -Others took up the cry—the crew of the Hun's steam -pinnace had seen them and were shouting and pointing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub looked under the bows and saw them himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're there!" he roared. "Pull, Jarvis; one -long blast! Let go aft! Full speed astern! Hard -a-starboard!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The steam spluttered out for a moment—the Orphan -thought the whistle would never clear itself—then it -shrieked—the echo came back from the shore almost -immediately, proving how close they must be—splash -went the tow-rope into the water—the other steamboats -slipped their tow-ropes—the stern of the -picket-boat swerved to port and trembled as the screw went -full speed astern, and the oars of the transports' boats -splashed madly in the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not a rifle-shot came from the shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the picket-boat gathered stern-way, the crowded -transports' boats splashed past on either side; their -coxswains, perched in the sterns, yelling: "Go it: -give way! Pull hard! Shove your backs into it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good luck to you all!" the picket-boat's crew -shouted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The soldiers turned round with grim, set faces, their -hands on the gunwales gripping very tightly, ready -for the moment when they would have to jump out. -The leading boat wavered; she had come up against -the stakes and the barbed-wire netting stretched -between them. These checked her for a moment, but -her weight carried her through, and she almost -disappeared in the very thick and dazzling haze. The -other boats dashed after her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the bows of one—with his machine-gun—was a -very cheery subaltern who had dined in the gun-room -the night before, and also his equally cheery chum the -subaltern of Royal Horse Artillery—the brigade -signaller. The latter, as he passed, called out: "Tell -your China Doll I won't forget his rifle." "Good -luck!" shouted the Sub, "I'll tell the little beggar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turn her round! Take her out to the trawlers!" -he roared to the Orphan. Round the picket-boat -swung, and just as she commenced to steam out there -was a shout of "The first one's beached herself, sir! -The soldiers are scrambling out, sir!" And then from -behind the haze and smoke clouds, from both sides -and above, there burst out the most terrific rattle of -maxims, and rifles and the bark of something heavier -than either.[#]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<!-- class noindent small --> -<p class="pfirst"><span>[#] One-inch Nordenfeldts.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The picket-boat steamed out at full speed, whilst -stray bullets hit the water near her and others pinged -overhead. The Orphan and the Sub looked back. -They could only see indistinctly through the haze with -the sun on it; they could not see what was happening, -but neither of them—down inside them—could -imagine that any men in those crowded boats could -pass through that fire and live. The Orphan held -his breath and gripped the steering-wheel. His heart -seemed to stop beating: the Sub's face was set, and he -had bitten his lip. "They're getting it in the neck—my -God, they are!" Jarvis said, as the awful rattling -and banging went on without a moment's pause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The steamboats reached the trawlers, a thousand -yards or more from that glare of mist and smoke which -hid "W" beach and its tragedy, and there they -waited until, suddenly, first one and then another, then -half a dozen—a dozen transports' boats, some with -three oars working, others with only two, one with -only one, scarcely any had all four, came into view, -emerging from the mist, and bullet splashes leapt up -in hundreds around and among them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For one horrible second they thought that the -boats had been beaten off, but then they saw that they -had no soldiers in them, and knew that, at any rate, -the soldiers had managed to land; the haze still made -it impossible to see what had happened to them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Breathlessly the crews of the steamboats, clustering -round the two trawlers, watched these boats struggling -off. The boat with only one oar working, and no -coxswain, was turning circles, but drifting slowly out with -the current. The man himself was evidently sitting -on the bottom boards, because only his hands appeared -above the gunwales, and he kept changing the oar -from side to side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another boat near this one had two oars working, -and they watched the coxswain in the stern crouching -down and trying with his free hand to make these two -keep time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just picture to yourself a stream with a tin floating -some ten yards from the bank, and half a dozen boys, -with their caps full of stones, throwing stones at it as -fast as they can. Picture to yourself that tin with the -splashes round it, and you will be able to realize -something of what the Sub and the Orphan saw; only, -instead of one tin, there were sixteen crippled -boats—some of them already half filled with dead and -wounded—and the bullet splashes leapt six feet and more out -of the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then imagine that, instead of a tin, it was a struggling -cat the boys were trying to drown with their -stones, and that you were making up your mind to -slip off your clothes, swim in, and rescue it, knowing -that the boys on the banks would throw stones faster -than ever, and bigger ones too, which would really -hurt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, at this moment the Sub decided to steam into -the hail of bullets and rescue those boats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He roared out: "We can't sit here doing nothing. -Go in and help them!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, pale and staring, rang "full speed -ahead", turned the picket-boat's bows round, and -dashed back towards the boats. The Hun, yelling -and half mad with excitement, followed in the pinnace, -and so did some of the other steamboats. The Orphan -hardly knew what happened. Bullets hit the -protecting screen, a chip of wood from the gunwale hit -his cap; splashes leapt up all round him; his ears -hummed with the whistling noise. He remembered -hearing the Sub roar: "Go for those two over there!" -and feeling him grip his hand on the steering-wheel -to turn towards the two most crippled boats. He got -alongside one—saw Plunky Bill and another hand get -hold of her—had a picture of grey faces looking up at -him from the bottom of her, and a muddle of khaki -lying there across her thwarts; towed her across to -the boat with only one man; saw the Sub get hold of -her painter, and then found himself, dazed and horribly -shaky and sick, back again at the trawler. Plunky -Bill came aft, grinning: "There's a 'ole in the funnel, -sir, slap-bang through!" and proudly showed a bullet -which he had found lying on the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No one who looked into those transports' boats as -they were towed alongside the trawlers will ever forget -what he saw: men dead, dying, and wounded, all -huddled and jumbled together on the thwarts of the -boats and on the bottom boards, with legs and arms -twisted strangely; wounded unable to free themselves -from the weight of dead bodies on top of them—those -grey, placid faces and sightless eyes which, ten minutes -before, had glowed with excitement as they turned -them to the sun; the blood-stained, torn khaki; the -blood-stained water lapping round them, and the one, -two, and in some boats three bluejackets, in their -Condy's-fluid-dyed jumpers, sitting among them, -flopping, exhausted, over their oars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In one boat there was a Scotsman, in gold -spectacles—not unlike Fletcher the stoker—a St. John's -Ambulance man, and now a Territorial ambulance -orderly. He had already dressed all the wounded in -his boat, and now stepped into another, working away -quietly, as if he was doing it in the accident-room of a -hospital.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must get a doctor," he told the Sub; and as -the trawlers had not one, the boats requiring most -urgent assistance were towed across to the </span><em class="italics">Newmarket</em><span> -anchored near. Here the wounded—most of -them—received further treatment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no time for sentiment. The boats were -all urgently required to take more men ashore; three -of them, those with the most dead and wounded, were -told off to take on board the wounded from the others; -bluejackets were told off to take the places of those of -the crews who had been killed and wounded; and then -the beach parties, Bubbles, the Pink Rat, and the -Lamp-post, tumbled down into them. Bullets began -flying round them and the </span><em class="italics">Newmarket</em><span>, but no one -was hit. "Shove off!" was shouted; "land them -under the rocks to the left of the beach;" and the Sub -and the Orphan towed them inshore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was much less rifle-firing now, but many -bullets came over and splashed round the picket-boat. -The mist and smoke had cleared away, and the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> -was still firing very rapidly at the Turks' trenches -on the edge of the cliff, to the right of the beach, the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> assisting with her small guns. Their shells -burst along it one after the other, all along the dark -line which marked the trenches, and scarcely a Turk -dare expose himself to fire down at the beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub, as he approached, saw through his glasses -two Turks close together, leaning over and pointing -their rifles down at the beach, and saw spurts of sand -fly up where the bullets struck among a line of men -lying prone, half in and half out of the water, in front -of lines of barbed wire. One of the shells from the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> burst close to them, and when the smoke had -drifted away the two Turks were still there—motionless—in -exactly the same attitude, but their rifles were -sliding down the rocks. He cast off the boats with -the beach parties, and waved to them as they pulled -past him inshore. The three snotties crowded in the -stern, and looking up at the cliffs with eyes wide open, -were, however, too excited to take any notice of the -Orphan's shout of "Good luck, you chaps!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Back he went to the </span><em class="italics">Newmarket</em><span>, meeting -steamboats towing in boats packed with more troops. -Another trip ashore with sappers and "details", and -then he towed those three boats with the wounded to -the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, where they were taken on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was exactly half-past seven when he got alongside -her, busy firing her small guns in the port -battery, and her for'ard 9.2 turret-gun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain wanted to see the Sub, so he climbed -up and went for'ard to the bridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, left to himself, was sent off to a -transport to tow more soldiers ashore; and on the way to -her he saw, over against the Asiatic shore and the -fort of Kum Kali, the French fleet, the </span><em class="italics">Jeanne d'Arc</em><span> -with her six quaint, squat funnels, and the Russian -</span><em class="italics">Askold</em><span> with her five thin, tall ones, and two -battleships, all firing very rapidly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Behind them lay big transports, and dozens of -boats loaded with dark-coated infantry on their way -ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He reached the transport, got his orders, and -steamed back to "W" beach with a long string of -crowded boats behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was then, whilst he waited for them to be emptied, -that he had the first clear view of "W" beach and -the broad gully leading up to the green ridge above it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No bullets—or only very few—came near him, and -he could look on undisturbed. On the right, where -the barbed wire was thickest, a row of dead Lancashire -Fusiliers lay as if they had all been swept by -the same torrent of maxim bullets. He knew that -they were dead, because other men, springing into -the water and wading ashore, stepped over them, -looked down at them, and left them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Higher up the beach, men were hanging on the -barbed wire itself. At first he thought it was only -clothes hanging there; then he saw that they had -been men. Fresh troops were scaling the cliffs; -soldiers advanced up the green slope above, singly -and in little groups. Away to the left, under the -rocks, more men clustered; and as some of them -limped along to the boats, some with bandages, some -without, he knew that these were wounded waiting to -be dressed. They crowded into the boats he had just -brought ashore, and many were carried down—among -these being a wounded Brigadier shot through the -leg. He saw nothing of Bubbles, the Pink Rat, or -the tall, lanky Lamp-post; but he did feel certain that -the landing had been made good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Trawlers, loaded with stores, approached as close -inshore as they could get; boats of every description -were flocking in, and already the sappers were lashing -pontoons together on the left, under the rocks, to -make a temporary pier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the boats he had towed in came out to him, and -he towed them and their wounded back to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>. -For the remainder of that morning the Orphan was -employed taking Staff Officers backwards and -forwards between the ship and "W" beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The beach parties had laid down six buoys at about -ten yards apart and some fifty yards from the beach, -and had led ropes from these to the same number of -stakes driven into the beach opposite to them. The -intervals between these ropes made waterways into -which the big lighters could haul themselves ashore -without colliding with each other. But there was a -certain amount of jostling just beyond the buoys, and -the Orphan had his work cut out, whenever he went -near the beach, to prevent his boat being damaged -by the crowds of steamboats "mothering" the big -lighters into position. She had a big rope fender -projecting across her bows, another lashed across her -stern, and two lengths of six-inch "grass" hawser -secured all round her side to protect her from bumps; -but, in spite of these, she soon had one corner of her -stern crushed, and her steering gear was jammed. -The Orphan managed to take her back to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -safely, and, very sad about it, reported the damage to -the Commander.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Commander, at his wits' end for boats, was -very angry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll take you out of her, Mr. Orpen, if you can't -manage her," he said angrily, but then sent him away -to get his boat coaled and watered whilst the repairs -were being made. "You and your crew can come -in-board and get some food," he called after the miserable -Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So presently he was able to dash down to the -gun-room, where Barnes had some cold meat and pickles -waiting for him. He had had nothing to eat, except -a couple of sandwiches, since the previous night, and -the sight of food made him realize that he was -ravenously hungry. It was now half-past one. The China -Doll—the only one there—lay fast asleep on one of -the cushioned benches; and he ate his food in peace, -with the burly Barnes waiting on him. He was -nearly as hungry for news as he was for food; but -the old marine would not talk or tell him anything. -"Just you go on with your food; there ain't no time -for talking," and he gave him a cup of strong coffee -afterwards. "That'll keep you awake," he said, as -he cleared away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan looked at the China Doll and longed -to throw himself down on a cushion and sleep; but -heavy firing broke out again, and, too excited to think -of doing so, he went up on the quarter-deck to see -what was going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your boat will be ready in half an hour," the -officer of the watch told him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Cornwallis</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, and </span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span> were now -firing at a small knoll which showed up above Cape -Helles, the big cliff half-way between "W" beach -and Sedd-el-Bahr. This knoll was known as Hill 138, -and barbed-wire entanglements round its slopes were -plainly visible through the Orphan's telescope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He asked the Fleet-Paymaster and the Navigator, -standing on the quarter-deck and looking through -their glasses, what was happening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Turks still hold it," the Navigator said. -"Our chaps are preparing to rush it when the ships -have finished their bit of work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How are they going on down in the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>?" -he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Badly; they've been terribly cut up; haven't -landed a man since nine this morning; something -went wrong when they tried to get the lighters in -position under her bows. Look through your glass! -You see those chaps there under the little bank -on top of the beach, this side of her; those are all -who are left of some six or seven hundred who tried -to get ashore early this morning. They can't budge; -they have been there all the time. And those are -their dead, those brownish lumps scattered along the -beach. Those two transports' boats, stranded under -Cape Helles, drifted there. Every man aboard them -was killed before they got near the shore. They've -been drifting about all the morning, and fetched up -on the rocks. Look at that splash jumping up close -to the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>—that's another 8-inch shell from -the Asiatic shore. They hit her three times before -she took the ground, but have missed her ever since. -Ah! There goes a salvo from the </span><em class="italics">Prince George</em><span>—she's -looking after the Asiatic guns—that'll quiet 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Any news from the Australians, sir?" the Orphan -asked, feeling horribly miserable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They and the New Zealanders have done grandly," -the Fleet-Paymaster answered cheerily. "Pushed -inland a devil of a way. They'll be across the -Peninsula in no time—with luck."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No news had come from the French on the Asiatic -side. "They seem to be doing all right," the -Navigator said; "but it's precious difficult to make out -what's happening there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some men came through the battery door carrying -a stretcher with a man on it, his face covered with -a cloth. They bore it right aft on the quarter-deck, -lifted back a tarpaulin, which the Orphan then noticed -for the first time, laid the body on the deck, drew the -tarpaulin over it, and went for'ard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the seventeenth," the Navigator told him; -"most of them soldiers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. O'Neill, capless and haggard, came up the -after hatchway. "By the powers that be, but the -General has a bad leg!" he said as he hurried past -them on his way to the sick-bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the General you brought off this morning," -the Fleet-Paymaster explained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub and the China Doll came up from below, -the China Doll just wakened by the heavy firing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That R.H.A. chap promised to send you off your -rifle, China Doll; he called out to us just before he -landed," the Orphan said; but the Assistant Clerk -shook his head sorrowfully. "No, he's dead; he -died as they brought him on board; he and that chum -of his are both there," and he pointed to the tarpaulin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Someone told me," said the Sub, "that the -R.H.A. chap got ashore all right, fixed up his signal -things, and sent off one or two messages before he -was knocked over. He was more lucky than a good -many of those there; they never got out of the boats."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did the Captain want you?" asked the -Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub took him aside, his eyes very bright. -"He'd forgotten why he sent for me, but then wanted -to know if we'd had orders to go after those crippled -boats that time. I told him that we hadn't, but that -I couldn't stand by and do nothing. I thought he -was angry; he said that if the steamboats had been -disabled it would have meant a serious delay. I told -him we'd only had a bullet through the funnel and -a bit chipped out of the gunwale. He looked me up -and down, tugged at his beard, and I saw that he was -smiling. So that's all right, my jumping Orphan!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he know that the Hun went in too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I told him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did he say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you know that funny, slow way he has of -talking when he's trying to be humorous. He just -tugged his beard and said: 'I thought I noticed that -young officer's boat'. Gosh! what a morning it's -been!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat's steering gear having been -reported repaired, the Orphan was sent away again, -and kept busy until nightfall, backwards and forwards -between "W" beach and the ships. Once he took -Captain Macfarlane on board the </span><em class="italics">Queen Elisabeth</em><span>, -now anchored off the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>, and waited for him -whilst the big ship fired salvoes of 6-inch shell into -Sedd-el-Bahr village and the earthwork on Hill 141 -above it. Another time he went alongside the sappers' -pontoons, and Bubbles dashed down to speak to him. -"My dear chap, it's a great game; we're having a -ripping time!" he gurgled and snorted, looking a -terrible brigand in his clothes—already very dirty. -"Oh, that's nothing!" he laughed, as he saw the -Orphan smile. "We lay in the old Turks' trenches -for two blessed hours this morning. It was a great -time. If you get a chance, bring us in some butter -and some sausages—and, my hat! old chap, I'm -dry—dry as a lime-kiln, and my water-bottle's been -empty for the last three hours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan had some water in the boat and gave -it to him. The next time he went back to the ship -he got a barricoe filled and took it inshore; but there -was too much of a crush for him to go alongside, so -the Lamp-post waded in up to his waist and fetched -it. "We've almost run out of it; all our people gave -their water to the wounded, and there are any amount -more coming down now. We've just heard that the -Worcesters have rushed Hill 138, and they and the -Lancashires are going to try and take Hill 141. Yes, -there they come," and he pointed up the gully, down -which many stretchers were being carried. He -shouted to a couple of the beach party, and seizing -the barricoe of water, they ran it up the beach towards -a little tent under the rocks to the left, with a Red -Cross flag flying near it, and crowds of men in every -attitude of weariness gathered round it. These were -all wounded men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this time, about a quarter to five, there was a -period of comparative quiet. The Worcesters had -cleared the Turks out of Hill 138, so that "W" beach -was practically free from rifle-fire; and now they and -the Lancashire Fusiliers were forming up to attack -the earthwork on Hill 141. This dominated both -Hill 138 and "V" beach, where the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> lay, -so that, until it was captured, it was impossible to -join hands with the remnants of the Dublins on "V" -beach. A very brave attempt was made about half-past -five to take this earthwork; but the two gallant -regiments were almost exhausted after their hard day's -fighting under a hot sun, and they met more wire -entanglements, so thickly laid, and commanded by -such a heavy fire, that they were unable to advance -farther. At nightfall the Turks still held Hill 141, -and separated the troops who had landed on "W" -beach from those who had landed on "V" beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These poor chaps had suffered terribly all day, and -still remained crouched under the low cliff or bank -there, unable to move.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the fighting for this last hill, the Orphan -towed in two horse-boats with two field-guns and -their limbers. They were covered up with tarpaulins, -and he was not certain whether they were English -18-pounders or French 75's. At any rate, the beach -parties soon got hold of them with hook-ropes and -drag-ropes, hauled them ashore, and "man-handled" -them up the gully. The Orphan knew, in a general -sort of way, that things were not "going" as well as -had been hoped, but he was kept so busy, and was -so fatigued, that by sunset he could hardly keep his -eyes open. Several times he had to hand over the -wheel to Jarvis; but at last, after having spent nearly -an hour hunting in the dark for an important -transport which had anchored in the wrong place, he found -himself at nine o'clock back again alongside the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub, on watch, told him that he would not be -wanted for some time. "Go and get something to -eat, and a rest," he said; "you've had a pretty hard -day of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stumbled down into the gun-room, where he -found the Hun fast asleep with his head on the table. -Barnes brought him a glass of beer, and he swallowed -it in one draught. "Give me a biscuit—anything—I'm -too sleepy to eat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Barnes had some sandwiches ready. "Plenty -of mustard on 'em—made 'em myself—mustard'll -ginger you up. Just you lie down on the cushions, -and I'll stick the plate alongside you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pimple found him, and wanted to tell him the -latest news. The Orphan told him to "chuck it". -The China Doll came in and would have asked him -questions, but the Orphan pretended to be asleep, so -he tiptoed out again like a mouse. Uncle Podger -strolled in, smoking his pipe, and began to play -patience. He watched him shuffling and dealing the -cards, and then fell asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He woke. The corporal of the gangway was shaking him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Commander wants you, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He dragged himself up. The gun-room was empty. -The alarum-clock on the notice-board showed a quarter -to eleven, and he went up to the dark quarter-deck, -where he found the Commander and reported himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! there you are, are you? I've been sending -all over the ship for you. The 'wounded' launch -is going down to the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>; I've no one else to -send with her; Rawlinson has gone away in a cutter -and I can't trust anyone else; the steam pinnace will -tow you down, and the doctors are going with you. -I've sent four hands into the launch already, and she's -at the starboard boom; drop her astern and alongside -the port gangway. Hurry up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still half asleep, the Orphan found this big pulling -boat (fitted to transport wounded, she had been), -dropped into her, and five minutes later brought her -alongside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Hun, in the pinnace, came along out of the dark, -bumped into her, and got her painter made fast to the -towing-cleat. "They're having a jolly lively time -down at the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>!" the Hun called across.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, turning his sleepy head in that direction, -listened, and heard a good deal of rifle-firing, and -occasionally the spluttering of a maxim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right into it," he thought, and forgot his tiredness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. O'Neill and Dr. Gordon scrambled down the -ship's side into the launch; the big chief sick-berth -steward came down after them. Bags of dressings -were passed down; and Dr. O'Neill cursed irritably -when a bag, fumbled owing to the darkness, slipped -through the hands of the people on the gangway -above, fell into the boat, and only just missed falling -overboard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Commander called down to the Doctor: "Keep -the steam pinnace if you want her." The Sub roared -out orders to the Hun, and he started his engines and -towed the launch away from the ship's dark side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Six bells struck on board her—it was just eleven -o'clock.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-river-clyde"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The "River Clyde"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The night was not very dark, a pale moon—past the -quarter—appeared occasionally between slowly drifting -clouds, and the sea was still quite smooth. The -Peninsula showed as a dark wall rising gradually from -Cape Tekke to the high cliffs at Cape Helles, beyond -and under which the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> lay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan—wide awake now—steered the big -clumsy launch, and listened to the two weary doctors -talking of their day's work and the job in front of them. -Dr. O'Neill, the Fleet-Surgeon, had a grievance—he -generally had. This time it was with the Padre -and the Fleet-Paymaster. They had tried to make -out a list of the men killed and wounded—the men -who had been brought on board the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>—but the -sights and sounds in that crowded sick-bay, with the -for'ard turret-gun firing directly over it, every two or -three minutes, had been too much for them. Their -stomachs would not "stick it".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The only job they have, and they can't do it," he -growled. "It took me another two hours getting in -all the names and the official numbers on their identity -disks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was pretty beastly in there, P.M.O., and they've -never seen anything like it," Dr. Gordon said -soothingly. "They did their best; the Padre fainted -outside, and the Fleet-Paymaster was sick."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never seen anything like it before! Nonsense! -Nor have I! Did you get them all safely to the -hospital ship?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Gordon told him that he had only just returned -from doing so. "The whole thing's silly, confoundedly -silly, and this is the stupidest of all—this -trip of ours," the Fleet-Surgeon snapped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not much of a joy ride, is it? You must be -awfully tired," Dr. Gordon said in his nervous, -self-disparaging manner, as if he too had not been hard at -work the whole day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silence followed for some time, until the steam -pinnace, swerving suddenly to port to pass two -trawlers, indistinct in the darkness, jerked the launch -after her and waked the Fleet-Surgeon. "Why the -devil can't that young imp in the pinnace steer -properly?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The noise of furious rifle-firing coming from -Sedd-el-Bahr stopped him for a moment, but then he went -on again with his dismal groan. "A nice little job at -this time of night. Running straight into it we are."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the boats had altered course so much to port, -they presently found themselves close under the high -cliffs, and whilst being towed along in front of them, -the moon, peeping out for a few moments, made them -conspicuous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. O'Neill had just asked angrily: "Why the -devil they wanted to go in so close! Didn't they know -the Turks still held the end of them!" when ping! went -a bullet over the stern of the boat and plunked -into the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another came, and another.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep down, under cover!" growled Dr. O'Neill, -more savagely than ever, and he and Dr. Gordon, the -chief sick-berth steward and the four men of the -crew, sat themselves down in the bottom of the boat. -The Orphan, sitting exposed in the stern-sheets, -wished he was ten sizes smaller.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were close to the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> now; its dark -shape loomed just ahead of them, and the noise of -firing crackled fiercely, tiny spurts of flame from -hundreds of rifles lighting up the water's edge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They ran under the starboard quarter and gained -shelter; the launch scraped against a rough wooden -ladder and stopped; the doctors scrambled up it, -followed by the chief sick-berth steward; their surgical -dressings and lantern were handed up to them, and -they disappeared through the dark gangway port in -the ship's side—one of those ports which had been cut -to allow her troops to pour out quickly. The Orphan -and his crew in the launch, and the Hun in his steam -pinnace, were left to themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A maxim rattled—fired somewhere from the </span><em class="italics">River -Clyde</em><span> herself; and when it stopped, Dr. O'Neill's harsh -voice could be heard asking: "Where the wounded -were; what he could be expected to do in that -damnable darkness! and calling for a match to light the -lantern." A head peeped out from the gangway port, -and a voice called down: "That's not a very 'ealthy -spot, mate. The trawlers, what comed for the wounded, -were sniped something 'orrid down there. They 'ad -to shove off out of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We've come for the wounded," the Orphan sang out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you bally well won't get 'em. All that are -left are hup on the hupper deck, and can't be got down -whilst this 'ere shooting's going on—they're quite all -right up there—be'ind the bulwarks they are."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From inside the ship came shouts of: "Put out that -light! Curse you! We don't want any light here!" -Evidently Dr. O'Neill had managed to light it, and -was looking round for wounded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll begin sniping again—they starts directly -they sees a light—better keep down in those boats. -Off they go—I'm 'opping it!" sang out the man above.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ping! Ping! Ping! Three twinkles from somewhere -to the right—a bullet hit the water, another -clanged against the pinnace's steel wheel-screen, -another hit the side of the ship just under the ladder, -slid down and fell into the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Hun, from behind his shield, sang out to the -Orphan to know if he was enjoying himself. The -shouts from inside grew louder; then there was -silence. Evidently the lamp had been extinguished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The voice from the gangway called down: "'Ave they -stopped? Hany one got a souvenir in 'im?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are they firing from?" asked the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That old castle sticks hout in the sea, this 'ere -side," called back the voice, "and them there snipers -'ave been doin' themselves something proud."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan strained his eyes and could just -distinguish, about two hundred yards away—ahead of the -</span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>—the battlemented outline of the castle -walls and, farther to the right, a much more indistinct -and blurred mass sticking out into the sea. This was -actually the sea walls of Sedd-el-Bahr castle, jutting -out on a reef.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No more shots came from there, and there was -quietness everywhere for a few minutes. He began -to feel sleepy, but then one or two solitary rifles rang -out on the cliff side of the ship, five or six followed, -thirty or forty seemed to chip in, and, almost before he -knew it, a perfect pandemonium of rifle-fire burst out, -making a ruddy glow against which the stern of the -ship and the masts stood out quite plainly. Presently -maxims started on shore, whether English or Turkish -he could not know; and then, up above, from the -foc's'le of the ship herself, several maxims added their -voices to the din. The snipers from the sea walls did -not take part in this "show". It died down after a -while; a few crashes of musketry, then a few scattered -shots apparently answering each other, and silence—silence -which seemed absolutely extraordinary—as if -it was something tangible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What had happened, the Orphan had not the -faintest idea. He could only stay where he was, and -hope that Dr. O'Neill would decide something shortly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he heard the Doctor's voice in the -darkness: "Steam pinnace! Steam pinnace!" and the -Hun calling back "Aye, aye, sir!" "Go back to -the ship and ask the Commander to send for me half -an hour after the next attack ceases."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right, sir!" and jeering at his pal, the Hun, -shoved off and disappeared back to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, -drawing a solitary twinkle from the sea wall of the castle -and a solitary bullet which hit the ship's side, above -the Orphan's head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a few minutes a voice called down: "You've -got to make fast and come along inside 'ere—you and -your crew," so he clambered up the wooden steps with -his four men. Very willingly he did this, for he was -anxious to be able to say that he had been aboard the -</span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>, and he felt lonely and very exposed, -waiting alongside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Inside her was absolutely pitch dark; a man who -bumped against him could not be seen. The Orphan -heard Dr. O'Neill's voice, and elbowed his way -towards him, stumbling across something which he -knew was a stretcher, but evidently not waking the -man asleep on it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, and keep out of the gangway," Dr. O'Neill -snapped, "unless you want a bullet in you. -There's nothing any of us can do. There they go -again, curse them!" as more rifle-firing started, just -as it had done before—one or two shots, then more, -then apparently a whole line blazing away as if they -had millions of rounds of ammunition to spare. This -time he heard hundreds of bullets pattering against -the opposite side of the ship, and the glare showed him -another gangway port opposite the one by which he -had just entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's blocked up with boards, and you can see the -light between them," someone sitting next him said; -"and those blighted Turks can see a light inside -here, through them, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This burst of firing died away very rapidly; and as -he sat there, jammed among a lot of soldiers, his eyes -gradually became accustomed to the darkness, and he -made out that he was close to a big hatch leading -down into absolute blackness—the hold probably—and -that above him was another hatchway, with a -coaming round it, the edges of which stood out quite -clearly against the clouds. A broad wooden ladder—the -foot of it quite close to him—led up to this and, -as he knew it must, to the upper deck, where the -remaining wounded lay. The gangway port through -which he had come, showed as a lighter patch than -the ship's side, and anybody moving across it could -be just distinguished; but people did not move across -it more than they could help, because a lot of bullets -had already come through it from the sea wall. Under -this, his launch lay—at the foot of the ladder he had -just climbed up. Dr. Gordon kept on talking, -evidently trying to pacify Dr. O'Neill, and a man near -him kept rattling something—a ship's lantern it -sounded like—so he guessed that the chief sick-berth -steward sat quite near. People conversed all round -him, in a drowsy sort of way, as if to prevent -themselves being nervous or of going to sleep; farther -away, hundreds of people seemed to be snoring. A -soldier leant against his back; he knew it was a -soldier because a bayonet kept pressing against his -thigh; someone slid down across his legs, snoring -loudly; he pulled up his knees, and the man went on -snoring peacefully; out from a distant corner came -the sound of a man in pain, in his sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some men were sitting at the foot of the ladder, and, -because he heard Dr. O'Neill talking to them, he -guessed that they were officers. He was evidently -suggesting the possibility of getting down the wounded -now that the firing had died away, but they kept on -saying: "They'll start off again in a minute! It can't -be done." Every now and then came the noise of -heavy boots trampling hurriedly across the deck above; -a figure would appear over the coaming, silhouetted -against the clouds for a moment, and then someone -would come hastily clattering down the ladder as if he -were glad to get away from there. The whistle of an -occasional bullet over that hatch explained this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another burst of firing broke out, swelled to a perfect -fury of noise, and then subsided just as the others -had done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During a comparatively quiet interval which -followed, several men scrambled down the ladders. -They called out: "Worcesters to go ashore at once!" -and then went back again, screwing themselves over -the coaming and disappearing along the deck. The -group of officers stirred themselves and stood up -wearily—a tired, lackadaisical voice kept repeating -"Sergeant-Major! Sergeant-Major!" then seemed to -wake properly, and yelled it out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Men began to stir. '"Ere, wake up, Major! -You're wanted," came out of the dark; the sound -of a man waking irritably from his sleep, scrambling -to his feet, a long yawn, and then a sharp, decisive -"Yes, sir! Sergeant-Major, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fall in, the Worcesters! Worcesters! The -Worcesters have to go ashore," the officer shouted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fall in, Worcesters! Fall in, Worcesters! Fall -in! Fall in round the ladder!" Men all round took -up the cry, waking those asleep. Men cursed and -yawned, and yawned and cursed again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are you a-shaking of? I ain't a ruddy -Worcester," growled someone. The darkness was -full of bustle and noise as the Worcesters dragged -themselves to their feet and groped round for their -packs and rifles. Rifles clattered to the deck; men -jostled, cursing, against each other, and the -Sergeant-Major's voice kept calling out: "Come along, lads! -We've got to go ashore! Hurry up, Worcesters! -This way, Worcesters! Fall in near the ladder!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Men began humping on their packs. The Orphan—by -this time on his feet, to keep out of the way—had -a rifle shoved into his hands. "'Old on to it, mate, -while I shoves my blooming pack on." He helped -the man whilst he secured the webbing-straps. Then -a plaintive voice came out of the dark: "I cawn't -find me pack! Where's me pack?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a titter of amusement as the Sergeant-Major -yelled for the men to help him find it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ere it is, you blighted idiot!" someone shouted. -"You was a-sittin' on it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Elp me on! 'Elp me on!" the idiot pleaded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll 'ave to 'ave a lady's maid, that's what you'll -'ave to 'ave. We cawn't go waiting for you, Bill -'Awkins," bawled the Sergeant-Major; and to judge -by the silly cries of Bill Hawkins, they were strapping -him up too tightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's me rifle? I 'ad it in me 'ands, and now -I cawn't find 'e," the company idiot stammered -helplessly; and the man whom the Orphan was helping -chuckled: "'E's a fair treat, that 'ere 'Awkins; 'e -can never find nothink."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rifle had to be found. The Captain with the -lackadaisical voice was getting impatient. Matches -were struck to look for it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along, Worcesters! Get up on deck!" -shouted the Captain; and they began clattering up -the wooden ladder, actually bandying jokes as they -disappeared over the coaming, and went pattering -along the deck. The company idiot, who was in a -pitiable state of terror lest he should be left behind, -found his rifle at last, and, clutching it, he rushed -up the ladder after them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now 'old on to it, and don't let it out o' yer 'ands. -You'll 'ave to look arter yerself now," said the -Sergeant-Major kindly, as he followed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst these men had been getting ready, another -outburst of firing had commenced, and the fusillade -on shore sputtered furiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shouldn't care to have to go ashore, out into -that," Dr. Gordon said; and Dr. O'Neill answered: -"I wouldn't go as cheerfully as they seemed to. -Grand chaps those!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the first time I've heard him praise -anyone," thought the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Firing died away again, until only an occasional -shot broke the silence; and with that company of -Worcesters gone, there was much more room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two doctors talked in a low voice. The -Orphan heard Dr. O'Neill say cynically: "You can't -get a night like this in Harley Street;" and the -volunteer reserve doctor laughed, in his funny, -nervous manner: "No, I can't. I expect my old butler -wouldn't sleep much if he knew how I was spending -my night. He looks after me as though I were a baby."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Someone came down the ladder—the Orphan -thought he had on a naval cap—sat with his back -against a stanchion, and went to sleep. A man -coming down presently, knocked against him and woke -him—a perfect torrent of oaths, in a very childish -voice, following.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, that's old Piggy Carter from the </span><em class="italics">Queen -Elizabeth</em><span>," thought the Orphan. "I'd know his -voice anywhere." He went across and shook him, -for he had fallen fast asleep again. "Carter! You -are Piggy Carter, ar'n't you? I'm Orpen; you -remember me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did; and listened sleepily to the Orphan telling -him all about the shell and splinter holes in the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> deck and funnel, until Dr. O'Neill called -out irritably: "Stop chattering!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, Piggy, I want to go up on deck and -have a look round," the Orphan whispered; but -Piggy said he'd spent all day there, and in the water, -with the lighters, and if the Orphan wanted to go -along, more fool he, and he could go by himself. -He—Carter—wanted to sleep, and didn't want to hear -any more of "W" beach, or "X", or "Y", or "A", -"B", or "C", or the whole tomfool alphabet of -beaches.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And he went to sleep, with his back against the -stanchion; and the Orphan, left to himself, sat on -some sacks, watched the clouds moving across the -open hatchway, and listened to the firing ashore, the -pattering of bullets against the ship's side, and the -snoring of tired men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went to sleep, and woke in the midst of a -tremendous din. There was a perfect scream of -rifle- and maxim-firing. He longed to go on deck, and -wondered whether Dr. O'Neill would see him. Perhaps -he was asleep too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a new noise now—a much louder boom -following a glare which lighted up the clouds, and -then a smaller glare and a lesser sound; nearer they -were, much nearer. "Those are field-guns," he said -to himself; and after listening to them for some -minutes, judging the distances of the different sounds, -realized that they were our own guns. They began -firing two shots, one after the other. "Two guns," -he thought; and then felt certain that these were the -very same guns which he had towed ashore that -afternoon at "W" beach. He </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> see what was going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He wriggled cautiously to the foot of the -ladder—Dr. O'Neill's voice didn't call out to him—he went up -it on hands and feet. As he reached the top a bullet -whistled by; he ducked, and threw himself over the -coaming, clung there, found himself on deck—the -noise seemed louder there—and doubled himself up -as he ran across to the shelter of the bulwark. He -waited for half a minute to pull himself together, and -then drew himself up and peered over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Right in front of him was the dark mass of the -cliffs—they seemed to be not 200 yards away—and -twinkles of flame sparkled out all along the tops of -them. As he looked, there was the glare of a field-gun -flash which outlined the whole cliffs—the crash—and -then a glare farther inland, and a fainter report -of a shrapnel bursting. For an instant he saw before -him a narrow strip of beach with a dark shadow above -it. Then it was dark again; but all along it, all the -time, spurts of rifle-flame, ten times as distinct and -large as those twinkles of the Turks' rifles on the -cliff, marked an irregular, uneven line, where he -knew our own troops must be—those Worcesters, who -had just landed, probably among them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A little to the right, down in the centre of that -spluttering line of flashes, there was a regular spout -of flame—a maxim was rattling; farther away inland, -twinkles darted out everywhere—the whole air seemed -full of noises. Then he jumped nervously, for -suddenly two or three maxims at the other end—from the -bows of the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>—opened fire at something -or other, just as they had done before. He could see -nothing moving; it was all very uncanny, and fearfully -exciting. He forgot that bullets occasionally pinged -overhead or splattered against the side of the ship, -and waited there until that attack had been beaten -off—or perhaps, after all, it had been a false alarm—and -gradually first the maxims, then the volleys, then -the individual firing died down, and left only a few -snipers trying to find each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he had time to look round the deck. Close to -him he saw something—some queer shape—moving -in the shadow of the bulwark, and he put out his -hand and felt the rough hair and the long, smooth -ears which could only have belonged to a donkey. -There were two of them, both tied up behind a little -deck-house. They were glad for anyone to touch -them; they nosed at him, as if he gave them comfort, -and stamped their little feet on the deck to show their -pleasure, and to make him understand how they -wanted to be taken on shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He gave them each a friendly pat and scratched -their ears, wondering what they were doing there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But what he wanted to see were those maxims, -away at the other end of the ship; to be actually -behind them when they next opened fire, and to find -out what was happening, and what they were firing -at. So he crept along the deck, along a row of -stretchers, with shapeless forms on them, lying close -under the bulwark. One or two groaned, but they -all seemed to be asleep, and then he gained the -entrance to the dark passage or alley-way under the -superstructure. In it a man was smoking—he saw -the glowing end of his cigarette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can I get along here?" the Orphan asked. "I -want to get to the maxims."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A rough Yorkshire voice told him the passage was -full of people asleep. "You'd be doing better to go -up along; keep away t'other side, it's safer so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So the Orphan retreated, crossed the open deck in -front of the mast and cargo winch, found the ladder -leading to the superstructure, and was just going up -it, to the shelter of the starboard side of the -deck-house, when he saw a stooping figure bending over -a stretcher, and Dr. O'Neill's harsh voice growled out: -"Here, you! come and lend a hand. Lift that corner -of the stretcher."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A wounded man lay on it, very heavily asleep; and -as the Orphan lifted, the Doctor pulled free a blanket -which had caught under the stretcher, and spread it -over him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had not recognized the Orphan, who promptly -darted up the ladder lest he should do so, and stop -him going to find those maxims. He groped his -way to the ladder, which he knew must lead down -to the for'ard "well" deck; found it, climbed down, -and then the fo'c'sle itself was in front of him, and -an iron ladder to climb up. He was up it like a -redshank, and at last found himself right in the bows -of the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two almost simultaneous glares from the field-guns -lighted the clouds and showed up, for a moment, the -high battlemented curtain-walls and the bastions of -Sedd-el-Bahr castle, and showed the fo'c'sle he stood -on, the cables, the capstan winch, some sand-bags -piled up in the bows, some men standing behind -them, and three box-shaped structures—two on the -port side and one on the starboard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not know what these were.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-night-attack"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A Night Attack</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Orphan, holding his breath, crept forward to -look over the sand-bags in the bows, treading on -hundreds of empty cartridge-cases which rolled about -the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another glare from the field-guns, and he saw that -one of the men standing there, peering through his -glasses into the gloom below, was an officer of the -Royal Naval Division—the "R.N.D."—a Sub-lieutenant, -wearing a naval cap with the silver anchor -badge. (He actually belonged to the Armoured Car -Section.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello! Who are you? Where've you sprung -from?" this officer called out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan told him, and, thirsting for information, -asked what was happening. "What's going -on, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm hanged if I know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what were you firing at? Those maxims were -firing a minute ago, weren't they?" he asked, -disappointed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Were they?" the Sub-lieutenant repeated to the -figure next to him, who replied dryly: "I fancy I -heard them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel sure I heard some little noise too, now I -come to think of it," said the Sub-lieutenant -jocularly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are those things?" the Orphan asked, -pointing to the two dark, square, box-like structures -along the port side of the fo'c'sle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along and see," said his new friend; took -him to one, slid back an iron plate, and pushed him -into a little space where three men crouched, in the -darkness, round the breech of a maxim whose barrel -stuck out through a loophole in the front.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quiet little cosy place, that," he heard the -Sub-lieutenant say from the outside. "Come along and -we'll shut them in again, or they'll catch cold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He slid the rear plate into place, and led the Orphan -back to the maxim in the bows. "They're comfortable -enough in their little boxes, aren't they? Steel -plates all round them, and a steel plate on top—all -home comforts!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what's going on? Do tell me," the Orphan -begged, looking down over the bows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you like to start a battle? I bet you -would;" and before the excited Orphan had time to -think what he meant, he sang out: "Get hold of that -gun," and pushed him down astride the tripod.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mechanically the bewildered and flustered -midshipman gripped the two handles, and stood by to -press his thumbs on the firing-button.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now don't be in a hurry; point the thing over -there. No, not there; that's where our chaps are; they -wouldn't like it—beastly 'touchy' they are; point the -other way; that's better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan found himself training the gun towards -where he could just distinguish the biggest and nearest -of all the bastions, straight ahead of the ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's the front door of the castle, down there," -continued his friend. "Turks are always coming in -or out—lazy beggars they are—they want 'gingering -up'. Wait till those field-guns, up beyond Cape -Helles, fire; then you'll see it; the front door-steps -show up white. Ah! there they go! That's about -right! Keep her there! Let her rip!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, not really realizing what he was doing, -pointed the gun towards a white patch, and jerked -both his thumbs against the button. His eyes were -blinded as "tut! tut! tut! tut!" flashed the gun, and -the jar on his unaccustomed thumbs and wrists took -off the pressure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep her going!" he heard his new friend shout; -and setting his teeth and pressing with all his might, -he tried to keep the maxim gun pointing in the right -direction as it shook and rattled, and the empty -cartridge-cases tumbled on to others upon the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Immediately there were answering twinkles and -sparks of rifles—a maxim somewhere above the castle -doorway flamed out—the firing rang along the length -of the beach, was taken on up above the cliffs; -hundreds, thousands of shots were fired, and bullets -whizzed over the fo'c'sle of the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>, one or -two thudding against the sand-bags.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right; let 'em go to sleep again," the -Sub-lieutenant laughed, as the Orphan's tired thumbs and -wrists refused to press the button any longer and the -maxim stopped. In two minutes there was absolute -silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well! Enjoy your battle?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you very much!" the Orphan answered, -tremendously pleased, and picking up a couple of the -cartridge-cases he had fired, to keep as curios.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did happen?" he asked as he stood up again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A strong attack on the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> was beaten off -with heavy loss, thanks to the brilliant handling of the -maxims under the charge of—what did you say your -name is?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Orpen of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"——under the charge of Midshipman Orpen of -H.M.S. </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there wasn't any attack, was there, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not as I know of; but it sounds better, and we'll -leave it at that," laughed the Sub-lieutenant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He kept on peering into the darkness; he seemed a -little anxious, taking advantage of the frequent glares -from the field-guns to look very closely through his -glasses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's something going on down there—I'm -blest if I know what! You have a look," and he -handed the glasses to the midshipman. The Orphan -peered through them, waited for the sudden coming -of a glare, thought he saw figures moving, and said so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So do I; but I can't make out whether they are our -fellows or not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are our men?" the Orphan asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More to the left, along the beach—there's no cover -just in front of the bows down there. You see those -dark shadows under the bows; they're the lighters -your chaps fixed up. The Turks have some maxims -in one of the bastions of that old castle; they're the -guns which did all the mischief this morning. We've -been trying to knock 'em out all day, but can't seem -to get hold of 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was it very bad this morning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bad! My God! it was awful. You see those -pontoons or lighters—wait for a flash from the -field-guns. Ah! now you see them! By half-past eight -this morning they were actually heaped with our -men—dead and wounded. If a wounded man moved a -finger, they filled him with bullets. Not one man out -of three got ashore. They're still lying on them; -thank God, the night hides them! Keep your eyes -skinned; I'm certain there's something going on down -there," he added sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A messenger came from the bridge, climbing the -fo'c'sle ladder, and calling out: "The officer! Where's -the machine-guns officer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here I am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Colonel thinks the Turks are going to try and -rush the pontoons. He wants you to 'stand by' with -your maxims."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right; let 'em try," and he calmly filled his -pipe, struck a match, the flare of which seemed to the -excited Orphan to illuminate the whole fo'c'sle, and -proceeded very slowly to light it; whilst the Orphan -hardly knew whether he was standing on his head or -his heels for excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell those two guns in the 'boxes' to train on the -shore, near the pontoons, and 'stand by' to fire," the -Sub-lieutenant said, casually giving the order, and -sucking at his pipe as though he was thoroughly -enjoying it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm certain there are some chaps down there, but -we've landed nearly twelve hundred more since dark, -and those may be some of them. I'm hanged if I know!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, look!" he said quietly, as a glare from the -field-guns showed, unmistakably, a figure approaching -the end of the pontoons. "What kind of a cap has -he? The Turks wear a shapeless thing, almost like -one of our Balaclava helmets."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, hugely excited, had caught a glimpse -of him, but could not see the shape of his cap. He -was scrambling from one pontoon to the next, moving -about and then disappearing in a particularly dark -shadow. It struck him that the man seemed to be -putting his feet down very cautiously, almost as if he -were looking for something and was afraid of treading -on it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has to move carefully, there are so many dead -lying there," his friend explained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's going back now," the Orphan whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's rummy; so he is! and there are a lot more -other chaps—a whole mass of them—coming towards -him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he spoke a tremendous fusillade broke out on -shore, above where the dark line of pontoons ended -and these dark figures were moving, and the air over -their heads seemed to be filled with whistling bullets. -Bullets rattled up against the bows of the ship and -smacked into the sand-bags, one or two pinged against -the plates in front of the other two maxims; rifles -began firing from the other side of the ship, from the -lower sea walls. An answering crackle of musketry -broke out along the shore to the left; and as the Orphan -ducked his head below the sand-bags, his friend the -officer, not waiting for any further orders, opened fire -with all three maxims, and two more, down on the -port side of the fo'c'sle well deck, joined in as well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the most furious firing the Orphan had heard -since he came aboard the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>. He pushed -his hand and arm between the sand-bags, and tried to -look through the gap. Rifles began firing below him, -close to him, and </span><em class="italics">towards</em><span> him; the men firing them -must be on the pontoons themselves. The -Sub-lieutenant saw them; jumped to the gun, yelling, -"Depress! depress! fire on the last two pontoons." A -sand-bag was pulled away to allow the maxim to -depress, and it spurted fire and bullets; left off to -correct the depression, and started again. The Orphan -thought he heard shrieks (afterwards he swore he did); -those rifles on the pontoons dropped from twenty or -more to three—then to one—then to none; but the -firing behind, up above the bank, went on more -furiously than ever, and the bigger flashes of the -English rifles, along the beach to the left, seemed to be -blazing all the time. Two maxims among them made -spouts of flame quite three feet long.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The din was so terrific that the Orphan could only -just hear what his friend yelled in his ears: "Pretty -to watch, sonny; but you'd better scoot back aft—they -may come on again, and that doctor of yours may -want you. Keep your head down, well down, as you go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, who had entirely forgotten Dr. O'Neill, -and would have given his soul to stay and see the end -of this, found himself stumbling down the ladder from. -the fo'c'sle, up again and along the superstructure, -down and along the line of stretchers; bumped into -the donkeys at the top of the hatch, crawled over the -coaming, and very gently went down the ladder, hoping -that Dr. O'Neill had not missed him and would not -see him coming back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He need not have bothered himself about that. -There was a great deal of confusion down there; orders -were being yelled out, men were gathering at each -side of the gangway port, rifle-butts were banging on -the deck, and bayonets snapping on the muzzles. He -was pushed out of the way, and found himself next to -Dr. O'Neill and the chief sick-berth steward. He -expected to get a "wigging", but Dr. O'Neill only -snarled: "They've started a silly yarn that the Turks -are trying to board along the platforms—all this silly, -stupid fuss—it's confounded nonsense. You've slept -through the last two hours, you lucky little devil!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan was just going to say that it wasn't -nonsense, that he had seen the Turks trying to get -across the pontoons to the platform, but he thought it -wiser to keep quiet. He asked the chief sick-berth -steward where Dr. Gordon was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gone back, sir, an hour ago; a steamboat came -along, and the Fleet-Surgeon sent him back to the -ship. I wish he'd sent me. I'd be just as happy -there, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That snotty—Piggy Carter—was still sitting with -his back to the stanchion, at the foot of the ladder, his -chin on his chest, and snoring. The Orphan thinking -that he would love to know that the Turks were trying -to board through the gangway port (about twenty -feet away from him), shook him till he woke, asking: -"What's the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan told him excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, bother the Turks! I don't care a tuppenny -curse for them; what d'you want to wake me for?" -and promptly went to sleep again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a few minutes everyone was in a state of nerves, -expecting at any moment to see the heads of Turks -appearing at that big opening in the ship's side; the -noise of firing, on the other side of the ship, rose to -a perfect frenzy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Although the Orphan had seen the first attempt -crumpled up, he could not know what would happen -to a second, and felt very jumpy, too; but presently -the firing gradually subsided, and word was passed -down that all the soldiers there were to go ashore. -These men unfixed bayonets, strapped on their packs, -and went on deck, knocking against the sleeping -midshipman, who cursed them in his juvenile voice. That -was about three o'clock, and for some time afterwards -things were very quiet. The Fleet-Surgeon, the -Orphan, the chief sick-berth steward, and Piggy -Carter snoring against his stanchion, were alone, as -far as they could see although from the dark recesses -of the space round them they heard a great multitude -of snores of every variety. The Orphan's launch's -crew had not been seen since they had come inboard, -and no doubt four of those snores belonged to -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan himself dozed off once or twice, but -kept on being awakened by bursts of firing. He did -not want to go to sleep, for fear of missing any of the -excitement, so went and leant up against the edge of -the gangway port, only putting his nose out, because -bullets were still coming along from those snipers -on the low sea walls which jutted into the sea on this -side. A cool breeze blew in through the port and -made a pleasant "popple" against his launch, which -was bumping gently against the side of the </span><em class="italics">River -Clyde</em><span>. It was raining a little, and the cool drops on -his forehead were jolly refreshing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even standing there he could not keep awake; his -brain began to lull itself with the burbling noise of the -sea and the boat, until suddenly the most appalling, -panic-stricken shrieks came from overhead, and the -noise of heavy boots trampling along the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, with his heart in his mouth, dashed to -the foot of the ladder, just in time to see a half-naked -figure, his chest and neck swathed in blood-stained -bandages, throw himself over the coaming of the -hatchway above him; dragging a blanket after him -he came scrambling down the ladder, yelling that the -Turks had boarded the ship and were bayoneting -everyone on deck. There happened to be the sound -of many feet running about overhead at the time, and -for a moment the Orphan was entirely terror-struck—his -heart really seemed to stop beating; but the -Fleet-Surgeon, jumping to his feet, seized the man, who -was still yelling, "Save me! save me! the Turks will -get me; they're bayoneting everyone!" cursed him, -and told him to lie down in a corner and cover himself -with his blanket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With another yell the man tore himself away, -shrieked out that "it wasn't safe anywhere in the ship"; -and before the Orphan could stop him, he dashed to -the big gangway port and half-fell, half-slid down the -ladder into the launch. There, in the stern-sheets, he -coiled himself up, covered himself with his blanket, -and appeared to go to sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nightmare, that's what's the matter with him," -the Fleet-Surgeon said, a little shakily. "If he prefers -to lie there in the rain and the sniping, he can. -Phew! it gave me a bit of a fright."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Piggy Carter snored peacefully—even through this -incident.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After it, nothing exciting happened for a long time. -Occasionally a few solitary rifle-shots rang out, and -sometimes there were rapid bursts of heavy musketry -and volleys. Those two field-guns kept on, at -intervals, all through the night, but by now they were -accustomed to them. Dr. O'Neill, who was trying to -sleep, would curse whenever he heard three or four -sniping shots, and then perhaps a volley in reply. -"Curse those snipers!" he would growl; "they'll -start the whole lot of them off again, and I can't -sleep."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Eventually the Orphan must have fallen asleep, for -the next time he remembered anything it was growing -dimly light. He looked out of that big opening -in the side, away over the grey water—absolutely still -now—and made out the obscure shape of a battleship, -the </span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span>, he knew. To the left he saw, gradually -becoming distinct, the lower walls and fantastically -crumbled ruins of the Sedd-el-Bahr castle stretching -out into the Straits. Putting his head out and looking -for'ard, along the side of the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>—rather -nervously, because he did not know that the snipers -behind those projecting ruins had been withdrawn—he -saw two great round bastions and a huge curtain-wall -with its battlemented parapet—the main "keep" -of the old castle. Down at his feet the "nightmare" -man lay in the launch's stern-sheets fast asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Inside the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> there was now sufficient -light to see that they had spent the night in a big -cargo space, littered with boxes of stores and -ammunition, and quite a hundred men lay there soundly -sleeping. By the Red Cross badges and by the Red -Cross marks on the panniers and store boxes among -them, he knew that they were R.A.M.C. orderlies. -Two men with blood-stained bandages lay on stretchers—also -asleep—and near them his launch's crew. On -the opposite side of the ship he saw the planks which -filled in the opposite gangway, and close to it a heap -of "something" covered with a tarpaulin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Piggy Carter had gone, and so had Dr. O'Neill and -the chief sick-berth steward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everything seemed quiet and peaceful, except for -some solitary rifle-shots which came, every now and -again, from the direction of the cliffs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A man walked down the ladder smoking a pipe, and -winding a woollen scarf round his head in turban -fashion. The Orphan recognized him as his -R.N.D. friend of the maxims.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo, youngster! want a smoke? Try one of my -'gaspers'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, who was dying for a cigarette, took -one and lighted it. "Did the Turks try again?" he -asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub-lieutenant shook his head. "Come over -here," he said, and showed him the holes made by -three 8-inch shells in the deck above, and in the side -of the ship where they had gone out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was when we were coming along here. -Lucky they didn't burst, for our chaps were packed -as thick as thieves. One had his head taken clean -off—nothing left of it; two others were killed—we stuck -'em down there in the hold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, looking down through the hatch, was -glad he couldn't see them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are a lot more 'deaders' under that -tarpaulin. Come on deck—your Doctor is 'nosing -round' there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they went up the ladder, the Orphan concealed -his cigarette in his hand. But Dr. O'Neill -was not worrying about a midshipman, under eighteen -years of age, smoking; he was examining the wounded -on the stretchers lying under the bulwarks, and looked -very old and haggard in the dim light of the dawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two donkeys seemed horribly miserable, nosing -wearily at some dirty straw and cabbage-leaves on the -deck. "Poor little blighters!" said the Sub-lieutenant. -"They've not been really happy since one of those -shells went through the deck between them—look at -the hole it made. We've brought them along with -us, from Port Said, to carry ammunition—poor little -chaps!" and he fondled them as they put up their -noses to be petted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was a very restless individual, and seemed not -in the least affected by the strain of the last -twenty-four hours. He pointed out the grey cliffs of Cape -Helles. They seemed uncomfortably close, and looked -right down upon the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's where those snipers are—they're there still—I -thought so—d'you hear that?" (a bullet pinged -past); "you needn't worry—they can't shoot for toffee. -If we move about and show ourselves, some more of -them will start potting at us. Let's try!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan found himself crouching behind one of -the donkeys, but stood up again as his extremely cool -friend laughed at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. O'Neill now sent him to collect a dozen of those -sleeping orderlies and start handing the wounded -men, in their stretchers, down the ladder from the -upper deck, and then down into the launch. They -were very sleepy, and not too inclined to stir -themselves; but he found a weather-beaten -R.A.M.C. sergeant—a regular "terror"—who soon began -"rousting them up". For the next hour this job -kept him busy, his maxim-gun friend sitting all the -time on top of the hatchway, smoking his pipe -contentedly and warning him whenever the snipers from -the cliff became too busy. "Better keep under cover -for a bit, sonny," he would sing out; "your chaps are -getting on their nerves." He never shifted his own -position, although he was entirely in view; and after -a few minutes, would call down: "All right; you can -carry on!", and the Orphan and the orderlies would -rush up, and start moving more men down. It was -quite safe moving them along, under the bulwarks; -but what the Orphan did not like was taking them -across the deck, and lifting them over the coaming, -with the delay there, whilst men standing on the -steps of the ladder took charge of the stretcher. -Those cliffs seemed so horribly near.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last they had all been struck down below, and -the Orphan was listening to a very humorous -dissertation from his loquacious friend, on the merits of -different kinds of rifles (they were both standing at -the foot of the ladder, and it was broad daylight), -when suddenly there was a roaring noise, followed -immediately afterwards by a most terrific explosion, -which made them both quail, and made the </span><em class="italics">River -Clyde</em><span> tremble as though a mine had exploded under -her bows. The youthful orderlies handing the -stretchers down into the launch dashed for cover, -their nerves much "rattled"; but the Orphan and -his friend, recovering themselves, jumped across to -the gangway port to see what had happened. As -they did so, the </span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span>—perhaps a thousand yards -away—fired one of the 12-inch guns in her fore turret, -and another terrific thunder-clap crashed out as a -lyddite shell burst against one of the big bastions of -the castle. When the smoke cleared away, they saw -that the top half of it had been almost destroyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The R.N.D. Sub-lieutenant grinned. "'Finished' -that battery of maxims they had up there all day -yesterday; we couldn't turn them out." The </span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span> -continued to fire her big shells, and the bursting of the -high explosive against the solid masonry of the castle, -not more than 250 yards from the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>, made -the most overwhelming and overpowering noise -inside the poor old ship. Some of those youthful -orderlies were very nerve-shaken indeed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A steamboat came alongside soon afterwards, and -Dr. O'Neill, singing out that he would borrow her to -tow away the wounded, went up on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, very anxious to have another look -round, followed him to the superstructure deck, and -there he left him talking to a white-haired naval -Captain in khaki—the Beach-master of "V" beach—and -a big, burly, red-faced man, in very much stained -khaki, with Commander's shoulder-straps. This was -Commander Unwin, who had won the Victoria Cross -the day before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The midshipman went for'ard to where some army -officers and signalmen were standing watching the -shore. From there he saw the foc's'le, the maxims, -and the sand-bags behind which he had crouched. -He could not see the lighters and pontoons because -they were hidden by the fo'c'sle, but right in front of -him was the great mediæval castle of Sedd-el-Bahr, -with its bastion towers—one of which he had just -seen demolished—its curtain-walls, and arched -gateway at which he had fired that maxim. Farther to -the right, the height of the walls decreased as they -jutted out into the Straits; they were much battered -about, and, in several places, huge breaches had been -blown in them by the ships' guns. Fallen masonry -sloped down from these breaches into the sea itself. -Scrambling along the rocks below the walls, and -wading through the shallow water round the masses -of fallen masonry, he saw many of our soldiers. -Officers were evidently forming them up below the -breaches; men were crawling up these slopes and -kneeling down in front of barbed-wire entanglements, -which he could plainly see across the top of one -breach; somewhere close by a maxim spluttered, and -a few single shots—whether English or Turkish he -did not know—rang out. The </span><em class="italics">Albion's</em><span> shells were -now bursting some way in rear of these breaches.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Close to the water's edge, sheltered by some rocks, -a dark-blue army signal-flag began waving to and fro. -The Orphan could "take in" Morse, and spelt out -"R-E-A-D-Y T-O A-D-V-A-N-C-E". He heard -one of the signallers standing behind him repeat this, -and a tired, weary voice called out: "Signal to the -</span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span> to cease fire." He heard the rustle of the -Morse flag signalling to the ship; a minute later the -signaller called out: "They've taken it in, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The weary voice sang out again, in the most -matter-of-fact way: "Tell Colonel Doughty-Wylie to carry -on the advance—as arranged;" and, fearfully excited, -he heard the blue flag behind him whipping backwards -and forwards, and saw the blue flag on shore -answering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then men seemed to appear in hundreds; they -swarmed at the feet of those breaches, and began -dodging and climbing up them. Rifle-fire burst out, -maxims rattled, and the Orphan held his breath to -watch what was happening; but then he was pulled -away, and Dr. O'Neill, savage with rage, ordered -him back to the boat. "I've been looking for you -everywhere; now's our chance to get away to the -hospital ship." So, very reluctantly, he went back -to the launch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he and Dr. O'Neill were going down the ladder, -at the foot of which they had spent most of such an -exciting night, a big man, his face wrapped in -bandages, rushed down after them, and wanted to know -if it was necessary for him to go off to a hospital -ship. His tunic was soaked in blood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel all right; I don't want to go," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take off those bandages," Dr. O'Neill snapped, -and he rapidly unwound them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. O'Neill sniffed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's my nose, I think, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hang it, man! you've not got a wound anywhere. -Who was the fool who wrapped you up like that and -sent you back?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One of the ambulance men. Can I go back?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course you can. Get out of it!" and, intensely -relieved, the man, a magnificently built sapper of the -West Riding Field Company, darted up the ladder -on his way ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That comes of having half-trained idiots," -Dr. O'Neill snapped, as he went down into the launch. -"A stone thrown up by a bullet must have hit his -nose and made it bleed. He looked confoundedly -pleased to get another chance of being killed—the -fool. Shove off? Of course you can! D'you think -I want to stay here all day? Tell the steamboat to -take us to the hospital ship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So off they went with their wounded, and as the -boats cleared the stern of the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>, and the -high cliffs came into view, a sniper up there sent a -last bullet pinging over them. He did not fire again, -and in a couple of minutes or so they were out of -range, and being towed towards the crowds of ships -of all sorts which were lying off the end of the -Peninsula; the noise of the rifle-firing gradually fading -away as they left it behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a perfectly glorious morning—about six -o'clock—and the Orphan was fearfully hungry—too -excited still to feel sleepy. As they were towed across -the bows of the </span><em class="italics">Cornwallis</em><span>, she saw the wounded -lying in the launch, and waited for them to pass -before firing her fore turret again—she was shelling -Achi Baba. In twenty minutes the steamboat towed -the launch alongside the hospital ship </span><em class="italics">Sicilia</em><span>, and -left her there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. O'Neill scrambled up the ladder, and told the -Orphan he could come too. "We may get a cup of -coffee," he said, less harshly than usual.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After the scenes they had just left, the </span><em class="italics">Sicilia</em><span> was -so quiet and peaceful that when they were taken into -her saloon, trod on the thick carpet, and sank on -soft, plush-covered settees, the Orphan fell asleep, -even before his cup of coffee was brought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was after half-past eight when the launch, now -emptied, reached the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>. The Sub was on -watch. "You won't be wanted until the afternoon; -go and have a bath, something to eat, and turn into -my bunk," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down in the gun-room Uncle Podger, the Pimple, -Rawlinson, and the China Doll were just finishing -breakfast. They all shouted questions at him, and -he was also talking and answering them when the -Sub came down and cleared them all out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave him alone!" he roared angrily. "Let -him have his food in peace and turn in; he hasn't -had any sleep for forty-eight hours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had a bit last night," the Orphan expostulated; -he rather wanted to tell them about firing the maxim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do as I tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are things going on all right?" he ventured to ask.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," growled the Sub. "Go on with -your breakfast."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-beach-party"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Beach Party</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We must now follow the adventures of the Pink Rat, -Bubbles, the Lamp-post, and the fifty men of their -beach party whom we had left being towed across to -the </span><em class="italics">Newmarket</em><span> on Saturday night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On board her had embarked details of Royal -Engineers, Army Service Corps, and a weak company -of the "Anson" Battalion, Royal Naval Division; -also a Commander (from another ship) who took -charge of the beach party, and a naval Captain to -take charge of "W" beach—to act as Beach-master -there—as soon as the landing commenced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This little steamer slowly steamed across from -Tenedos Island during Saturday night, and on Sunday, -at daybreak, anchored about twelve hundred yards -from "W" beach, just as the first of the Lancashires -jumped out of their boats on to the shore. Almost -immediately afterwards, stray bullets began to whistle -over her or splash in the water round her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three midshipmen, almost too excited to notice -these, stood with their hands shading the sun from -their eyes, trying to pierce the cloud of smoke and -haze over "W" beach and see what was happening -beneath it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, quite close to them, fired her 7.5-inch -guns very rapidly, and they were spectators of a most -beautiful bit of gunnery work. This ship had already -cleared the Turks away from the trenches running -along the edges of the lower cliffs, on the left of -"W" beach, and had driven them over the ridge -above; now she began bursting shells on the higher -cliffs, to the right of the beach, and as the smoke -cloud melted and gave her a clear view of them and -the little groups of Lancashires forming up beneath -them, her shells, which had been searching those cliffs -in a blind, indeterminate way, began bursting with -the most marvellous accuracy, first in the galleries -the Turks had cut in the cliff face, and when these -were cleared, in the trenches above. Shells from the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> helped her; but the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> was within -shorter range and could enfilade them, so that most -of the credit of stopping the murderous fire of rifles, -maxims, and nordenfeldts from this position, and of -driving the Turks away, is due to her. This made it -possible for the Lancashires, who had already gained -possession of the top of the low cliffs to the left, to -press on across the head of the gully, and for those -still on the beach to advance up it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they advanced, the three tongue-tied midshipmen -could see them plainly, and as they gained ground, -so did those shells drop farther along, always some -fifty or seventy yards in front of them. It was grand -and most efficient gunnery, a remarkably fine example -of the co-operation of supporting guns and advancing -troops. To realize this thoroughly, you must put -yourself in the place of the men who were actually -firing her guns, and who, looking through their -telescopic sights, could actually see the Lancashires in -the lower half of the field of vision. The slightest -unsteadiness, the lowering of a sight by a -hair's-breadth, at the moment when they pressed their -triggers, would have sent a 200-lb. lyddite shell to -burst right among them. If there had been the -slightest roll on the ship this feat would have been -impossible, but, as you know, the sea was absolutely -calm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the three midshipmen could do was to gaze, -open-mouthed, and burst out with excited "Oh's!" -and "Look at that one!" "Look at them there—up -there; those are our fellows!" "There's another -shell, just in front of them! Isn't that grand!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the emptied transports' boats were towed -alongside by the Orphan, and down into them they -and their beach party had to scramble. The boat in -which they found themselves had a pool of blood in -her stern-sheets, and the thwarts and gunwales were -smeared with it. They were too excited to pay any -attention to this, because bullets were flying round -the </span><em class="italics">Newmarket</em><span> pretty thickly at that time, and they -had to shove off as quickly as possible, being towed -inshore with the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> shells passing over their -heads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This beach party was actually the second unit to -land, and Bubbles said afterwards that it was exactly -ten minutes past six when he scrambled out on to a -large boulder, and found himself at last in the enemy's -country. As a matter of fact, his watch must have -been nearly twenty minutes slow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They landed, without casualties, among the rocks -and under the low cliffs to the left of the sandy stretch -of "W" beach, the calmness of the sea enabling the -boats to run alongside, and shove themselves between -the boulders scattered there, without damage. This -place was hardly exposed to fire, and the whole of the -beach party scrambled ashore and reached the foot of -the low cliffs without loss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here they were met by a Staff officer, who ordered -the Commander in charge of them to scale the cliff -and occupy the trenches along the top.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men had brought their rifles; were extremely -pleased at the prospect of getting a shot at the Turks, -and climbed up eagerly, throwing themselves into a -broad, shallow trench running along the top. They -waited for a few stragglers and for the men of the -"Anson" Battalion, and then the little party of -perhaps a hundred and fifty men trotted up the slope -and towards the right, passing across one or two -communication trenches, many craters made by the ships' -shells, and one or two dead Lancashires. No one was -hit in this little "jaunt", although many bullets were -flying past. At last they were told to lie down in a -trench—a deeper one—and remain there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was interesting to see the different behaviour of -the three midshipmen. Bubbles, big and burly, -bustled along with his elbows bent, his head thrown -back, a laugh on his face, and his mouth wide open -as usual, his red face perspiring and the collar of his -tunic unbuttoned, charging through the little scrub -bushes and running straight, never looking behind. -The Pink Rat, with his eyes bulging out of his head, -dodged and stooped, and set his teeth, very obviously -conscious of the bullets; whilst the Lamp-post trotted -along, swinging his long legs, and looking as little -discomposed as if he was at some silly manoeuvres—possibly -he was setting the noise of the bullets and -the ships' shells to music. He was the only one of the -three who looked back, at all, to see how the men were -coming along, and to keep his section in something -like order, preventing them from bunching together—as -sailors always will—and steadying those who wanted -to run too fast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once in this trench, the Pink Rat was sent along -to make the men spread out and take cover properly, -for again they were "bunching". The "Ansons", -though they were mostly sailors, had had six months' -military training, and so did not want telling what to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next to where Bubbles sprawled, panting and blowing, -was a bluejacket who, even at this time, had begun -collecting "curios", and now showed with pride a -Turkish bayonet and a trenching tool which he had -picked up on his way. "If I'd left 'em there," he told -Bubbles, "I'd 'ave never seed them again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the moment he had commenced to scramble -up the low cliffs and then to trot along the slope above -them, Bubbles had been entirely oblivious of anything -except pushing on and saving his breath, but now he -was able to look about him and see what was happening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The trench in which he knelt ran almost at right -angles to the sea and the cliff they had just climbed, -and whilst the lower portion dipped into the gully -which led down to the sandy portion of "W" beach, -the upper part reached the sky-line formed by the -ridge which extended from the end of the Peninsula, -parallel to the sea, above the cliffs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He, Bubbles, was almost in the middle of the trench, -with most of the beach party lower down, and the -"Ansons" above him. Looking along it and up the -slope, he saw that the sky-line was, here and there, -dotted by soldiers lying prone, and apparently firing -inland. Straight in front of him the ground sloped -a little downwards to the gully, to the ruins of a little -house—a farm-building, perhaps—and then gradually -rose again, rising with the higher cliffs beyond "W" -beach, till it reached the spot where the white -lighthouse buildings of Cape Helles stood very -conspicuously. There it made another sky-line, perhaps -eight hundred yards away from Bubbles, joining up -with the sky-line of the ridge on his left. Behind, -where these two sky-lines met, was a small eminence, -and through his glasses he could see the barbed-wire -which surrounded it. This was Hill 138, still strongly -held by the Turks, and had to be taken before "W" -beach could be used in comfort. Looking downwards -to the right—where the gully sloped to the sea—a -strip of "W" beach showed at the foot of the steep -cliffs facing him there, with the galleries and the -trenches along the upper edge, from which the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> -lyddite and the shells from the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had -driven the Turks only three-quarters of an hour ago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The green slopes were brown with a maze and network -of trenches, rifle-pits, and shell craters; and -beyond these the Lancashire Fusiliers still advanced -towards the lighthouse—pressing forward by rushes -of little groups; men running a few yards, throwing -themselves down among the bushes, and firing; -springing up and advancing again. When Bubbles saw -a man fall, he could not know whether he was hit—so -naturally did he fall—unless the line of scattered khaki -figures went on and left him lying there. The -</span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> shells screeching over the trench in which -Bubbles knelt, burst continually just in front of them. -Firing was very brisk at this time, both on the ridge -to his left and also from the sky-line near the -lighthouse, and the crackling of musketry and the angry -swish of bullets over the trench were almost -continuous—minor noises among the deep, thundering -bellow of the ships' guns and the rush of their shells. -The Pink Rat came along the trench, stooping well down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's going on? What are we supposed to be -doing?" Bubbles asked as he stopped for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doing support to the firing-line," he squeaked, -and hurried along with a message for the "Ansons".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Left to himself again, Bubbles looked out across the -blue waters of the Straits to the Asiatic shore and its -high mountains fading away in the distance. The -reddish ridge showing on the Asiatic shore was Kum -Kali fort, and under it the French fleet was -hammering away at the shore, the most conspicuous ships -being the </span><em class="italics">Jeanne d'Arc</em><span>, with her six funnels, and the -curiously shaped </span><em class="italics">Henri IV</em><span>. Not far from them was -the lighter grey of the Russian </span><em class="italics">Askold</em><span> and her five -tall, thin funnels, lighted by continuous flashes from -her guns—the "Packet of Woodbines" the sailors -called her. Farther away lay the big Messageries -Maritimes transports, the huge </span><em class="italics">La Provence</em><span>, and rows of -boats being towed inshore. Destroyers and French -torpedo-boats dashed about; the whole surface of the -sea was a mass of ships—one solitary white-painted -hospital ship among them; and away beyond the -lighthouse on Cape Helles—far up the Straits—Bubbles -could hear the heavy guns of the </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson</em><span> and -</span><em class="italics">Agamemnon</em><span>, and the 6-inch salvoes of the </span><em class="italics">Queen -Elizabeth</em><span>. He could not see these ships because the -cliffs hid them from sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Firing died down, and the Lamp-post came sauntering -along, looking bored, and sat down beside him, -with his long, thin legs drawn up, resting his chin on -his knees. "Those are the Plains of Troy," he said, -pointing across the Straits to the belt of green pastures -lying behind Kum Kali fort. "We should be able -to see the ruins of Troy itself," and he got out his -glasses, and looked disappointed when he failed to find -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles watched him with amusement. "Go it, -old Lampy, keep your head in the clouds, and get a -bullet in it! Who wants to see your silly old Troy! -let's have some grub. I'm terribly hungry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They pulled some stale sandwiches from their -haversacks, and commenced munching them contentedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm jolly glad I'm not the Orphan—out there," -said Bubbles, talking with his mouth full, and waving -a half-eaten sandwich across beyond "W" beach—"pegging -away in his old steam bus. I wouldn't be -him for anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jolly hard luck on Rawlins to be left in the ship," -added the Lamp-post.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello! there's a chap badly knocked -about—look—dragging himself towards us through the -grass!" The Lamp-post had "spotted" him about a hundred -yards away from the trench.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's go and give him a hand," suggested Bubbles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right oh!" said the Lamp-post, pushing his field-glasses -back into their case, and together these two -midshipmen stepped out of the trench and walked -towards the man. Only a few stray bullets were -coming along just then. "Hullo! What's up?" they -asked the soldier when they reached him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Got me in the knee," he said—his face ghastly -white—as he turned over on his back, with one leg -helpless and that trouser-leg soaked in blood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post knew all about "First Aid"—there -were not many things he did not know something -about—and the two midshipmen, kneeling down -beside him, lashed his two legs together with his -puttees, and began to carry him back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the way the Lamp-post stumbled once, and the -wounded man let out a groan: "For God's sake be -careful!"—but they got him into the trench and laid -him down. Then the Lamp-post crumpled up. -"Something gave me an awful whack when I stumbled," -he said; "I believe I'm hit," and put his hand -to his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles, frightened, made him lie down, and examined -him. "There's no blood outside—I can't find -any—oh! but look here!" and he lifted up the field-glass -case. It had a slanting hole right across it, and -when he wrenched out the glasses themselves, the -"joining" piece had a ragged notch in it, and a small -piece of torn white metal had been caught in it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My aunt! Old chap, that's a bit of nickel casing—a -bullet hit it—you </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> a lucky chap! If you hadn't -put those glasses away you'd have been a 'deader'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two snotties examined the field-glasses eagerly, -and passed them to the men close by. They all -looked at the Lamp-post as if they envied him very -much, and Bubbles kept on gurgling: "You are a -lucky chap, Lampy!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They hunted to see if there was a bruise under the -Lamp-post's shirt, and were disappointed when they -found none.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It feels jolly sore," the Lamp-post said as he felt -the place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There'll sure to be a bruise to-morrow," Bubbles -gurgled excitedly; "you </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> a lucky beggar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time the stretcher-parties were already out, -and they handed over their wounded "knee" man to -some of them. The others went up past the trench -towards the firing-line, searching the grass and bushes. -The two snotties watched them moving about. They -would go across to a bush, stoop down, and Bubbles -and the Lamp-post would know that a man was lying -hidden there. If someone sat up between them, or -they put down and opened out their stretcher, they -knew they had found a wounded man. If nothing -happened, and they went on with their stretcher, still -folded, they knew that it was a dead man who was -lying there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More soldiers now began coming up the gully, extending -in long lines as they debouched at the top of -it. They turned to the left, coming over the trench, -and marching up to the slope behind and to the left. -A bluejacket shouted out: "Who are you, matey?" "Essex!" -they called back as they scrambled past, -panting beneath their heavy packs. A youthful -subaltern, struggling under the weight of his, stopped a -moment to get Bubbles and the Lamp-post to hold it -up, whilst he pulled the webbing-straps more tightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks! that's better," and off he went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good luck!" they sang out after him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Almost directly after this, the order came for the -"Ansons" and the beach party to fall back to the -beach. "That finishes soldiering; now we've got to -be labourers," the men grumbled as they straggled -down the gully, helping any wounded they met on -the way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now they saw that horrible line of dead, lying -at the water's edge, with the sea lapping round their -legs and bodies, and the men hanging over the rows -of barbed wire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's rotten. It spoils all the fun," said the -Lamp-post, as he stepped across the body of a very -finely-made man lying face downwards in the sand, one -hand still gripping his rifle, and the fingers of the -other still dug into the sand. "Look at those bits of -firewood in the straps of his pack. Poor chap! He'll -never want them to cook his food with. It's rather -rotten, isn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be an ass," Bubbles said comfortingly. He -wasn't much of a philosopher, and these sights did -not affect him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now about half-past nine, and by this time a -large number of boats, full of stores, had wedged -themselves among the rocks—farther along, where the -beach party had landed—and the crews were throwing -them out, shoving off, and going back for more. -Army Service Corps men were already taking charge -of them and taking them higher up the beach; the -Sappers were already busy building a pier with casks -and pontoons; and among all this hustle and bustle, -the wounded sat or lay huddled up against the foot of -the cliffs, waiting whilst the army doctors went from -one to the other. The first thing that the Lamp-post -and Bubbles had to do was to drive six stakes into the -beach whilst six buoys were being moored, some sixty -yards out, in the sea, and then stretch hawsers from -each stake to its opposite buoy—as you have read -before. That took a good hour, and when the big -lighters came hauling themselves into these rope -"gangways" they and their men had to unload them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whenever there was not a boat to unload, there -were wounded men to carry down to the empty boats. -They were not idle for a moment, and all the time -stray bullets were falling on the beach and occasionally -wounding some of the men there. One of the -Lamp-post's "section" got a bullet in his side and -had to be sent off to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, but no other of the -beach party was hit that day. However, they were -all much too busy to worry about, or even notice, these -bullets, and never had a "stand easy" until about two -o'clock, when they watched the shells from the </span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span> -and </span><em class="italics">Cornwallis</em><span> bursting round Hill 138, beyond the -lighthouse ridge, and listened to the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> shells -screaming overhead again to burst in front of the -advancing Worcesters. They hastily munched a bit -of biscuit and tore off a bit of bully beef, had a pull at -their nearly empty water-bottles; but more lighters -coming in, crammed with stores, they went on with -their work. Much heavy firing went on, stray bullets -flipped about in all directions, and by half-past three -they heard that the Worcesters had captured the hill; -and, half an hour later still, had to help the wounded -who streamed back down the gully from that gallant -little assault.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan brought them in a barricoe of water -about this time, but that the wounded drank. -Fortunately, a water lighter was brought ashore and -beached shortly afterwards, and the Sappers pumped -the water into a canvas tank they set up at the water's -edge, so they didn't really want for long. It was -rather unpleasant to go and get it, because you had -to pass along and step across those dead men lying -there. There was no time to move these, and they -lay where they had fallen, when scrambling out of -the boats, all that day and all the night, until next -morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After the Worcesters captured Hill 138, there was -very little firing for some time. Later on, before -sunset, the beach party had the joy of helping to run two -field-guns out of horse-boats, and helped to haul them -up the gully with hook-ropes—hauling them almost -as high as the trench they had occupied in the early -morning, then hurrying back for their limbers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a thing to remember!" the Lamp-post said, -patting the tarpaulin-covered gun, and panting with -the exertion of hauling it up the steep gully. "Fancy -helping with the very first gun to land!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dusk came, and night fell grey and calm. Flares—oil -flares, the same as those one sees over a green-grocer's -barrow, in a market, at home—were lighted and -placed along the beach. No one had a "stand easy".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have you got?" would be shouted as a -loaded boat crept in through the dark. "Come over -this way—haul on that rope under your bows—that's -better—there's room here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps they were Ordnance stores or Army Service -stores—each had to be kept apart—the coloured -stripes on the boxes would be scanned by the light of -a lantern or of the flares. The bluejackets hoisted -them on to the shore, and placed them in separate -heaps for the soldier working-parties to take away to -their proper "depots", already formed, one on one -side of the gully, the other on the other side. Hour -after hour this work went on; the men commenced to -realize that they were almost "played out", and, -without thinking, would throw themselves down and -rest whenever there was the chance. Rifle-fire grew -as the night went on, and wounded came back with -stories of strong Turkish counter-attacks on the ridge -beyond the cliffs. If they had had time to notice it -they would have heard one continuous splutter of -musketry, but they were too tired to do anything -except go on working mechanically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At about midnight things became serious. Several -men on the beach had been hit by stray bullets, and -word was passed round to put out all the flares; news -came that the troops up above were exhausted and -running short of ammunition, and eventually the -order ran along the beach: "Everyone with a rifle -to fall in!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bluejacket beach party dropped their boxes -and groped for their rifles, fell in, and were marched -by the Lamp-post and Bubbles up the gully again. -The Pink Rat dashed about carrying orders from the -Commander and the Beach-master.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those who had no rifles were told to get hold of -ammunition-boxes and find their way up to the firing-line. -The position was really serious at this time, -though Bubbles and the Lamp-post were much too -stupefied with fatigue to realize this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once up at the top of the gully, someone gave the -order to turn to the left, and led the beach party up -the slope. Things were evidently pretty lively; the -air seemed alive with bullets, and the ridge was -outlined by spurts of flame. They came to a trench -running parallel with, and below, this ridge, and were -told to lie down in it. "Line out, men! You may be -wanted to reinforce the firing-trench in front. Don't -fire unless you get the order," and the officer, -whoever he was, disappeared in the dark, leaving Bubbles -and the Lamp-post—now thoroughly awake—to spread -their men along the trench. Some of their friends—the -Ansons—joined them, and presently the -Beach-master, the Commander, and the Pink Rat found -them too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For an hour they lay there doing nothing, Bubbles -and the Lamp-post lying flat on their stomachs, next -to a Staff officer at a telephone, who told them from -time to time how things were "going". They both -hoped that the front trench </span><em class="italics">would</em><span> require reinforcing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they were taken out of that trench, and -brought back to one still farther in the rear—almost -on the edge of the cliffs. The men, losing interest, -coiled up and went to sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some time afterwards there were calls for "volunteers -to carry up ammunition"—the firing-line was -"shrieking" for more cartridges.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's go!" the Lamp-post suggested. "We're -not doing any good here; we can carry boxes all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They found the Commander, who gave them leave. -"Be careful," he said; "and you're not to stop up -there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They scrambled to their right, to the foot of the -gully, and found the stacked ammunition-boxes by -marking the line of men who came from them -carrying boxes on their shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They seized a box between them. A small man—it -was the Beach-master's servant—was trying to lift -one on his shoulder. The three of them took the two -between them—Bubbles gripping a loop of each -box—and together they "lugged" them up the gully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the top stood someone shouting out: "You go -straight on along the edge of the cliff.—Keep along -the Turks' trench there, as far as you can go; that'll -take you right.—You go straight up the slope, away -from the sea.—You get along to the left, as far as you -can go—keep going uphill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the Lamp-post, Bubbles, and the little servant -came panting up, he sent them along the edge of the -cliff, in the lighthouse direction. "Hurry along!" -he called after them. "Keep along the trench."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Off they went as fast as they could; an ill-assorted -trio, for the Lamp-post's long legs and the servant's -short ones did not keep step. The little man panted -in the rear, but kept on bravely; Bubbles's two hands -soon began to be cramped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They found the trench and followed it. The night -was almost pitch-dark; but the rifle-firing ahead, to -the left of them, gave an unsteady light, just sufficient -for them to see the dark line of the trench. On their -right, the cool wind blew gently up from the sea and -the edge of the cliffs; it seemed to be humming with -bullets. People kept meeting them—appearing out -of the darkness, bumping into them, and disappearing; -all had the same cry—"Hurry up!" as they -dashed down for more ammunition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How much farther?" Bubbles, whose hands were -so cramped that he could not now feel his fingers, -called to a passing soldier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A hundred yards," the man shouted as he ran past.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post caught his foot in something and -fell; the box of ammunition fell out of Bubbles's -cramped fingers—fell on something soft—a dead man. -The Lamp-post jumped up, seized the box, hoisted it -on his shoulder, and disappeared ahead; Bubbles and -the servant followed with the other.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 65%" id="figure-66"> -<span id="the-lamp-post-jumped-up-seized-the-box-hoisted-it-on-his-shoulder-and-disappeared-ahead"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""THE LAMP-POST JUMPED UP, SEIZED THE BOX, HOISTED IT ON HIS SHOULDER, AND DISAPPEARED AHEAD"" src="images/img-158.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"THE LAMP-POST JUMPED UP, SEIZED THE BOX, HOISTED IT ON HIS SHOULDER, AND DISAPPEARED AHEAD"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were very near the front trench now; the -whole ridge near the lighthouse and to the left of -them was almost continuously outlined by the flashes -of incessant musketry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles panted—his ear-drums were splitting—the -little servant was catching his breath with -half-frightened gulps. Then they cannoned against a -bend in the trench, and were going on, when a gruff -voice sang out: "Put it down here! Keep your -heads down, damn you! Cut away back for more!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post joined them, breathing hard, and -together, empty-handed, they ran back as fast as the -narrowness of the trench and the darkness would -allow them; the noise of the bullets coming along -from behind, and pinging round their ears, making -them go faster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those two field-guns began firing just about then, -lighting up the whole place with the glare of their -flash, so that they could see, every time they fired, -the trench in front of them, and the "drawn" faces -of the men coming along it with more ammunition-boxes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The noise of these guns and their bursting shrapnel -was most comforting. They realized then why it is -that soldiers so love the sound of supporting guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They regained the gully, dashed down it, and got -hold of more ammunition. Each of the midshipmen -put a box on his shoulder this time, and left the little -servant to bring up a case by himself as best he could. -On their way along the trench, at a place where it -was deep and narrow, they had to push past two men -crouching together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter? What are you doing?" they -asked, taking a breather.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're wounded," they answered in a dull, stupid way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you walk?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, don't block up the place. Get away back -to the beach."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they returned, these two were still there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post had tripped over their feet and -their rifles, and they blocked the trench.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are you wounded?" he asked savagely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the arm," one said, holding his right arm; -the other growled sullenly that he'd been hit in the -shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Like lightning the Lamp-post pulled up the man's -sleeve and his shirt-sleeve, and ran his fingers up the -arm. He tore open the other man's tunic, and passed -his hand under his shirt and over his shoulder—felt -nothing—felt no blood on his hands—looked at them -as a field-gun flashed, and found none.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get out of it!" he yelled at them. "You're -neither of you touched."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We ain't 'ad nothink to eat since last night," one -of them whined.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get out of it!" the Lamp-post kept yelling. "Go -back to your regiment," and losing his temper -completely, as the two men never attempted to move, -struck one in the face—hard; but he was so absolutely -cowed and exhausted that he only uttered a pitiful -moan, and sunk a little farther down in the trench.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you are here when I come back," the Lamp-post -hissed, "I'll shoot the two of you!" and the two -snotties doubled back for more ammunition, passing -the little servant staggering along under his load. -"I'm all right, sir!" he gasped as they passed along -the trench. When they did come back for the third -time, those two men had disappeared, they never -knew where. They were the only panic-stricken men -they saw that day or night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On their third return journey the volume of fire -was appreciably lessening, and they brought back -word that no more ammunition was wanted in that -direction. They were sent back to the beach party, -and wandered about for a long time on the exposed -slope above the gully until they stumbled across -them, and reported themselves to the Commander. -"We took up six cases between us, and the Captain's -servant—that little chap—took up two at least." Then -they flung themselves down beside their friend with -the telephone, who told them that "all was gay".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most of the men in that trench were sound asleep, -and the two tired snotties would have fallen asleep -too, had not the Pink Rat glided along the trench to -ask them where they'd been and what they'd done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should have loved it," he kept on saying, "only -the Commander wouldn't let me go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They did not altogether believe him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rifle-firing had now dwindled to an occasional shot -from some nervous rifle. The Turks by this time had -given up any idea of pushing our people back into -the sea, and only the two field-guns kept up a -monotonous barking all night through.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just before dawn the beach party was withdrawn, -and staggered down to "W" beach to commence -another day's work; and, later on, Bubbles overheard -one horny A.B. explain to a fat A.S.C. sergeant: -"If those soldier chaps 'ad given way a bit, us chaps -would 'ave 'ad a chawnce; but they 'eld on—the silly -blighters!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That beach party, ever afterwards, had a grievance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the men "set to" again, they were given a -little time to get food. Then they started to unload -more stores. Stores simply poured ashore: clumsy -bulky things like water-carts—more guns—two -60-pounder "heavy" guns and their limbers (these were -placed in position behind the ridge, almost at the end -of the Peninsula)—reels of telephone cable—tents for -stores—hundreds and hundreds of boxes of -ammunition—balks of timber for piers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Horses began to arrive—big fellows for the heavy -guns—Clydesdales perhaps—great lovable fellows -with a roguish eye for the beach, which made the -sailors love them all the more. These last they -handled as no one else in the world can handle them. -Give a bluejacket anything on four feet, from an -elephant to a pig, and he'll get it ashore all right. -They've got "a way with them", and can coax a -nervous horse or an obstinate mule better than -anyone else—or think they can, which is more than half -the battle. Perhaps the whole secret lies in the fact -that they are so accustomed to shifting heavy weights -that, if a beast resists all their blandishments, they -know that hauling on to a rope passed round their -"sterns" will work the oracle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Luckily, by the time they reached the shore in -horse-boats, these poor, patient creatures had gone -through so many extraordinary experiences that they -did not worry much what happened to them. It was -grand to see their pleasure when they felt firm ground -once more under their feet and, when they were taken -up the gully, saw grass growing once again. Mules -came—mules in hundreds; but nobody can be really -fond of a mule—not in a passing acquaintance, anyway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sappers made great headway with their pier of -trestles, casks, and planks—No. 3 Pier—some way to -the east of the pontoons they had placed in position, -the day before, and called No. 2 Pier. They also -discovered a freshwater spring at the foot of the cliffs, -about two hundred yards beyond "W" beach. The -discovery of this seems now a little matter, hardly -worth recording; but quite possibly it was the most -important event of the twenty-four hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That day, also, the few Turkish prisoners who had -been captured, unwounded, set to work with a will to -build a small breakwater, which eventually became -the base of No. 1 Pier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The "Howe" Battalion, R.N.D., also began -making roadways.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Work for the beach party became slacker towards -night, not because there was less to do, but because -the men were absolutely "played out". Officers and -men had a regular "stand off", after dark, and a -proper meal. They also had time to peg off the site -for the naval camp with ropes, just below the Ordnance -Store Depots, and to lay down some strips of canvas -on the sandy ground. They were also put in two -"watches", half of them working for four hours, and -the other half working for the next four, and so on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles, who had the first watch "off", crept under -his bit of canvas and fell asleep in a "brace of shakes", -whilst the Lamp-post stalked back to the beach with -his own section of men, and went on working. If it -had been light enough to see that young officer's face, -you would have noticed that his eyes seemed to have -sunk back into his head, and that he kept on biting -his lips to keep himself awake.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="off-cape-helles"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Off Cape Helles</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The movements of the transports, store ships, and -auxiliaries of all kinds were controlled from the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and to cope with this work additional officers -had been attached to her. An Admiral hoisted his -flag in her, and brought his Staff, including two -Assistant Clerks; three Captains joined as Naval Transport -Officers—"N.T.O.'s"—and round her gangways -hovered, night and day, a restless crowd of steamboats, -picket-boats, and pinnaces—lent for various purposes -from other ships. Each of these steamboats had its -midshipman—some of them two, working watch and -watch, twenty-four hours "on", and twenty-four hours -"off" duty—with the result that the Honourable Mess -was completely overrun with strangers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the Pink Rat, the Lamp-post, and Bubbles -away </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> the time, the Orphan, the Hun, and -Rawlins—who relieved these, two in turn—away </span><em class="italics">most</em><span> of the -time, and the Pimple spending most of his days and -a good many of his nights visiting transports with the -Navigator, when that officer went away to anchor them -in their proper places, there was practically no one -left except Uncle Podger, the China Doll, and the Sub. -Now the Sub was in charge of all steamboats; it was -his duty to hoist them out of the water when they -required repairs, to get the repairs carried out as quickly -as possible, and then hoist them into the water again. -He also was in charge of all the coaling and watering -of these boats. These duties kept him so constantly -employed that he very seldom spent much time in the -gun-room. In fact, Barnes generally left something -in his cabin for him to eat, whenever the opportunity -permitted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of all the Honourable Mess, practically only Uncle -Podger and the China Doll remained and came to -meals as before. The result was that, twenty-four -hours after the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had anchored off "W" beach, -the mess groaned under the weight of the Barbarians, -and the Midianites, in the guise of tired, hungry -snotties from other ships, and the Admiral's two -Assistant Clerks had descended, pretty completely, -on the fruitful land of her gun-room. They crowded -down into it in their Condy's-fluid-stained "ducks"; -they lay on the cushions and slept; lay in the one -easy-chair and slept; came in at all hours of the day -and night, demanding food, and drove the patient -Barnes and the little messman nearly off their heads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The miserable little rat of a messman, thoughtless -of the morrow, and eager to turn an honest penny just -as quickly as he could, produced all the stores he had -laid in at Portsmouth and again at Malta—stores -which had been intended to delight the stomachs of the -Honourable Mess for many "moons": tins of dainty -biscuits, cakes, boxes of chocolate and preserved -fruit, bottles of anchovies, jars of bloater and anchovy -paste, jars of Oxford marmalade, and tins of Oxford -sausages and of tongue—and many other rare delicacies, -impossible now to replace; and this insatiable -crowd of sojourners realized, like one man, that though -their work was hard and the hours long, their feet -were indeed cast in fruitful and pleasing places. Now -the Pimple and the China Doll worshipped their -stomachs with an unswerving devotion, unalloyed by -the pangs of indigestion, so watched these intruders -working havoc among the gun-room stores with feelings -of keen agony. They realized, only too well, the -barrenness which would soon fall to their lot, and they -implored the Sub to stop these devastating demands -on luxuries and "extras" before it was too late. -Worst blow of all: that one last barrel of beer wouldn't -drip another drop, however hard you blew down the vent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Sub was so seldom in the gun-room that he -did not, for the first few days, realize the impending -danger. It was on the third day, just as he had -received an imploring, urgent order from the -Commander, "to hoist in the General's picket-boat and -hack away a coil of rope which had wrapped itself -round the screw and shaft, and get her into the water -again as quickly as ever he could", that he was waylaid -by these two young gentlemen, who rushed to him -with anxious faces. "Can't something be done? It's -simply awful! One of the </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson's</em><span> snotties has -just had his second box—his second box to-day—of -those "chocs" with walnuts on the top!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They ran back much faster than they came; but that -very day the Sub had the whole tragedy brought -vividly before him, when, later on, going down to his -cabin for a cup of tea, and feeling he wanted something -"tasty", he ordered a pot of anchovy paste.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barnes came back with a long face. "That 'ere rat -of a messman, 'e's been and gone and let all of 'em -strange young gen'l'men 'ave all the han-chovy, sir. -'E ain't got none left, sir, but 'e 'as just one pot of -chicken-and-'am what's gone an' got a bit mouldy. -There won't be 'ardly nothink left of nothink, what -with them strange young gen'l'men, and the young -gen'l'men what's gone with the beach parties a-sending -off chits for this and chits for that, as if this 'ere -ship was a Lipton's store-shop."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's just as bad along in the canteen, for'ard, sir," -he added dolefully; "beach parties and all of these -stranger boats' crews, they've just been and gone and -raided it, that they 'ave; nothink there now, scarcely, -but penny bottles of Worcester sauce and tins of -blackin'. It ain't 'ardly fair; no, nor it isn't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even Uncle Podger thought things were going too -far when one day a midshipman from one of these -ships ordered four tins of Oxford sausages to be sent -down to his boat's crew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It may be very pretty to watch," he said, finding -the Sub in his cabin, "but it's rotten bad luck on us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub was worried. "You see, it's like this," he -answered; "they're rather like guests, and we can't be -rude to them. But I'll write out a notice which won't -hurt their feelings, and may be some good; we'll stick -it on the notice board."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He wrote out several; he didn't like any of them, -and tore them up, saying: "We can't be rude, can -we?" And then, getting impatient, tore up the last, -and burst out with: "Well, let the blessed things go, -and don't let's worry, Uncle, old chap! You and -I aren't particular."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So things took their course unchecked, till the -messman, at the end of ten days or so, announced to the -rapacious throng, and the miserable Pimple and China -Doll, that he had nothing left in his private store except -one bottle of pickles and a bottle of Eno's fruit salt. -Even that pot of mouldy "chicken-and-ham" had -been "taken up".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is certain that if the Pimple or the China Doll -were asked, now, what went on during the days -following the landing of "The Great Adventure", and what -struck them most forcibly, both of them would tell of -the snotty who had eaten two boxes of "walnut chocolates" -in one day—the two last boxes in the messman's -store.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll would also recount days of -unaccustomed toil, when he was attached to one of the -Naval Transport Officers as Clerk, and had to copy -out sailing orders and check lists of arrivals and -sailings of ships; work which frequently interfered with -his great delight of climbing to the main-top, and -looking through the range-finder there (against all orders, -it may be said) at the shells bursting on the slopes of -Achi Baba and among the windmills and houses of -the village of Krithia. For the first few days he had -felt very proud of his new job, carried a big -correspondence book about with him, and felt himself as -important as those very important young officers, the -Admiral's Assistant Clerks; but as the days wore on, -it became monotonous and irksome. The Captain -whom he thus "assisted" was none too gentle with -his mistakes—which were many—and he wished that -the old days would return, when he had nothing to do -but sit on the office stool in front of a ship's ledger, and -kick his feet against the bulkhead until Uncle Podger -told him to clear out of it. If only he kicked that -bulkhead hard enough and often enough, Uncle Podger -would never keep him long. It had been such a -pleasant kind of a life, and in those days he had only -to run into the gun-room and make some cheeky -remark, to be rolled on the deck and be ragged; but -even that was finished; the gun-room was no longer -like home nowadays, for the snotties were mostly -strangers, who took no notice of him if they were awake; -and even if the Orphan, Rawlins, or the Hun happened -to be there, they were much too tired to skylark. With -the Pimple, who was more often available, he did not -like skylarking, for the Pimple generally hurt -him—intentionally.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, what with one thing and another, the China -Doll was not entirely happy whilst he copied out -these "silly" orders, and guns thudded from the ships -all round him—guns whose shells he could not always -run up on deck to see burst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was so much to see, and it was so irritating -to come out all this way to the Dardanelles, and then -to find that he had to stick in a stupid office just when -some of the most exciting things were going on. -However, he could always make sure of watching a -duel between the howitzers on the Asiatic -shore—somewhere behind Kum Kali fort—and the ship told -off to keep them quiet—the </span><em class="italics">Prince George</em><span> or the -</span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span>, sometimes the </span><em class="italics">Agamemnon</em><span>. At almost any -hour of the day he went on deck, he could make -certain of soon seeing a splash leap up, close to -whichever ship was on duty, and then see her fire -her 12-inch guns, and watch till the brownish-red or -black clouds flew up behind Kum Kali ridge as the -shells burst, hoping intensely that bits of "Asiatic -Annie" were flying up in it, and wondering what the -spotting aeroplane, circling high above in the blue -sky like a hawk, had seen and signalled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then there were the shrapnel bursting behind "W" -beach, and the little shells which sometimes burst -there, but, more often than not, only buried themselves -with a little spurt of dust. He would wonder whether -Bubbles or the Lamp-post had been hit, and hoped -they had not, because they had promised to send him -off a shell, or anything interesting, as a curio. And, -later on, there were the high-explosive shells, which -sometimes burst in the air over that beach, and at -other times burst on the ground with a horrid noise -which frightened him, even where he was, in the -ship, and made him rather alter his mind about going -ashore to see the fun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Turkish aeroplanes, or German most probably—the -"Taubes" he had heard so much of—they came -often; and at the first news of "hostile aeroplane -approaching from the north-east" he would dash on -deck, and try to spot them as they appeared over the -top of Achi Baba—little moving spots which he lost -sight of, if he was not very careful, until they came -nearer and nearer, and the sun made their wings -glisten like silver. He knew that each carried bombs, -and often he could actually see these little things at -the moment they were released from the body of the -aeroplane, to burst somewhere near "W" beach, -raising a cloud of dust and smoke, or drop in the sea -among the ships, sending up a rather silly splash—such -a waste of energy. And it was so "ripping" to -hear guns firing at the aeroplane and see the shrapnel -bursting. He did so long to see one crumple up and -come tumbling down, but he was always being -disappointed; and when that particular aeroplane had -seen what it wanted, dropped all its bombs—seldom -where it wanted—and turned back up the Straits, the -China Doll felt rather miserable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes British and French aeroplanes went up -after the Taube, and chased him to his home up above -the Narrows, whilst the Turkish shrapnel burst round -them just as they had done at Smyrna, only making -better shooting as the days went on and their practice -improved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first the British and French aeroplanes had -their home at Tenedos; and if they rested, slid down -on the open ground close to Helles lighthouse, -flighting back to their island before dark to spend the -night. That, too, was always "pretty to watch", as -Uncle Podger would have said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the bombardments of Achi Baba and Krithia, -on the days that the troops attacked, gave him intense -enjoyment; and sometimes, though not often, the -China Doll, from his post up aloft in the main-top, -could see, through the forbidden range-finder, little -groups of khaki figures darting about among the -scrub and the ravines which intersected that plain, -though he could never be sure whether they were -British or Turks. But what excited him most, and -kept him in some quiet corner for hours, holding -on to the rigging or a stanchion, stretching his head -out in the dark, and hardly daring to breathe, were -the night attacks by the Turks. The noise of them -would wake him, and up on to the after shelter deck -he would slip, in his ragged pyjamas, and watch the -glare of the field-guns, the bursts of shrapnel-flame, -the bright star-shells as they sunk in graceful curves -of dazzling white light, and would listen to the rattle -of the musketry and the Maxims, and the fierce barking -of the guns—especially of the French "75's".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On one of these nights Mr. Meredith found his -funny little figure squeezed up against the rails, close -to the life-buoy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo, youngster!" he said cheerfully. "Would -you like to be right in among it all—there on shore?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir! I mean yes, sir! No, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which do you mean?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, sir. It sounds so awful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you'd better turn in. They're packing up -for the night now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so the China Doll would patter down the -ladder in his bare feet, listen for a moment at the top -of the hatchway to make sure that they had stopped -fighting, and then go back to the dark half-deck and -his hammock, and lie listening until he could not -keep awake any longer.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In the picket-boat and steam pinnace the Orphan, -the Hun, and Rawlins (who first relieved one and -then the other) had never, all that first week or ten -days, six hours' consecutive sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Steamboats! Why! fifty more would have found -plenty to do; and of those which were actually -available, so many were constantly in the Sub's hands -being repaired, or back on board their own ships -being repaired, that those remaining were running -practically day and night continuously. The Hun's -pinnace smashed in her stem and stove in her bows -against a trawler on the Thursday, and that laid her -up for two whole days whilst she was being patched. -On one of these two days he took charge of a boat -whose midshipman had been killed by a stray bullet -at another beach—"X" beach—round the corner, -and on the second he and the Orphan kept "watch -and watch" in the picket-boat. For all practical -purposes their only chance of a rest was when their boats -ran short of coal and water and had to go back to the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>. The job of filling up with water and coal -often took half an hour—time enough to get some -food, sometimes even a bath; more often, all they -wanted was sleep. Occasionally they had a stroke of -luck after getting back to the ship, and might be told -that they would not be wanted for an hour, perhaps -longer. Then the Orphan, Rawlins, or the Hun—whoever -it was who had such luck—would coil up on -a cushion in the gun-room and sleep, or lie down on -the Sub's bunk—if he was not there—which was more -peaceful. More often than not, something would -happen: an urgent signal would come from somewhere -or other, to take a Staff officer "off" from "W" -beach to the </span><em class="italics">Arcadia</em><span>—the General Head-quarters -Staff ship—-or to tow inshore a lighter full of stores, -urgently needed—bombs, barbed wire, empty sandbags, -whatever it might be; his boat might be the -only one available, and away he would have to go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This used to happen day and night, for during -those first ten days there was no relaxation of effort -whatever, all the twenty-four hours round the clock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Very often the Orphan had to take his boat alongside -hospital ships, and several times it happened that -men climbed down their tall, white sides and asked -for a passage ashore. One of these, on one occasion, -was a stretcher-bearer of the Worcesters, an old -soldier evidently. The air, just about this time, was -full of rumours of Turkish atrocities, and these caused -much anger until they were contradicted—as they -generally were—although the contradictions never -went the rounds as did the original rumours. The -Orphan had just heard one particular story, vouched -for, of four English—evidently prisoners—having been -found burnt to death in Sedd-el-Bahr castle. So, -thinking this man might know something about it, -he asked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Know about them? I should think I did; all nonsense, -that story. They were burnt right enough—I saw -them myself—but so was the wooden storehouse the -Turks had put them in. Everything was burnt, and -there was the base of a 6-inch lyddite shell lying close -by them; one of our ships' shells which had set the -place on fire during the bombardment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He told him of his own experiences. "Why, sir," -he said, "twice the Worcesters have had to fall back -a bit at night, and leave wounded behind; and at -daybreak we got back the ground again and found -them all right, though we never expected they would be -alive. 'We thought to find you scuppered,' we told -them—at first, that was; not afterwards. I -remember one—the Sergeant-Major of my company. We -found him in the morning, and we asked him how -he'd managed to keep clear of the Turks. 'Keep -clear of 'em,' he says; 'keep clear of 'em! why, -they crept up after you'd fallen back, found me in the -dark, and gave me water; pulled me along behind -some cover—your firing being so hot—and covered -me with a blanket.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then haven't you seen anything wrong?" the -Orphan asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I wouldn't exactly say that; there's a young -chap in there"—and he pointed to the hospital -ship—"what has some thirty-five bayonet wounds—just -pricks—in him. They caught him in a trench and -did handle him pretty rough, till he pretended to be -dead; then they left him. He'll be up and about in -ten days' time. Then I saw two of those Senegalese -chaps see 'blue murder' one day; but what can you -expect?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are our fellows playing the game?" the Orphan asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't know Bert Smith, he's in my section. -Well, he and I was carrying a wounded Turk in our -stretcher, he taking the head, and me going along in -front with his feet, and I notices that he starts -a-jerking his end up and down pretty violent, so I says to -him: 'Here, Bert, what are you a-doing of? you'll -hurt the poor blighter!' and he up and says: 'Poor -blighter be darned; he's only a blooming Turk!'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did you do?" asked the Orphan, smiling at -the man's so very transparent earnestness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I just told him that, Turk or no Turk, he was -a-fighting for his home and country, and it wasn't for -us to say he was doing wrong—us who was trying to -drive him out of it—and to go a-hurting of him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He carried him proper like after that, but of -course, sir, you don't know Bert Smith; he's a fair -'card'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, noticing that he had a blood-stained -bandage round his neck, asked him what he had been -doing aboard the hospital ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They sent me off," the man said indignantly. -"Just had a bit of a clip—went in in front—came out -at the back—under the skin—nothing. I stayed -aboard there a little, and then, when the doctors were -too busy to notice, I skipped into the first boat that -would take me ashore, and am off back again. I can -do all the doctoring I wants, and they're getting pretty -short of chaps like me up there," and he jerked his -thumb Krithia way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During these days the Orphan allowed a good -many men to scramble down from the hospital ships -into his picket-boat—men slightly wounded, and who -wanted to go back to their regiments. Many of these -were Australians and New Zealanders, a brigade of -whom had been brought round from Anzac, and had -suffered extremely heavy losses in a most gallant -but unsuccessful endeavour to capture Krithia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He often had to take his picket-boat into "W" -beach when shells were dropping on it or into the -water close by; and these were times when he had -to pull himself together, so that Jarvis and the crew -should not know that he hated it; especially did he -dislike the buzzing noise which just gave him -sufficient warning to make him wonder where </span><em class="italics">that</em><span> shell -was going to hit. He also had an extremely narrow -escape one day when he was taking a General and his -Staff officers to "V" beach. As he approached the -</span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> he saw that some big shells were -dropping close to her, and just before he reached her, -swish—sh—sh came along the noise of one and -it flopped into the sea just ahead, fortunately without -bursting. It heaved the bows of his boat right clear -of the water, and the splash that fell over them fell -on the deck, the General, and on his Staff officers. -The Orphan's breath came very fast then; but he -could not help laughing as he saw Plunky Bill, who'd -been standing in the bows with his boat-hook all -ready for going alongside the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>, turn a -complete somersault and disappear, head first, down -the little hatch there. It was such a relief to have -something to laugh at.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day he was sent to the French flagship—she -was probably the </span><em class="italics">Suffren</em><span>—with a note to the French -Admiral, and had to wait on her quarter-deck for an -answer. The Admiral brought it up himself; a dapper -little man he was—all springs—and when he saw the -Orphan standing stiffly to attention, he darted across, -laid both his thin, aristocratic hands on his shoulders, -gave him a friendly, encouraging shake, and talked -French to him, the only words the Orphan was able -to understand and remember being: "Ah, mon petit -brave! mon pauvre petit garçon!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the way back with the answer he told Jarvis -about this. "He called me lots of things, and he -called me 'his poor little boy'—rather cheek, wasn't -it?" In fact, the Orphan rather thought that his -dignity had been hurt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A funny old bird, that 'ere Gay Pratty, sir," Jarvis -said. "D'you know Porter—'Frenchy' Porter, they -calls him now—that 'ere leading signalman what -comed from the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>? 'E was lent to that 'ere -French ship for the 18th March—when the </span><em class="italics">Bouvet</em><span> -and </span><em class="italics">Ocean</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Irresistible</em><span> were 'outed'. 'E tells me -that that 'ere little ladylike gen'l'man was on the -bridge all the time, a 'opping about like a bloomin' -sparrow, and wouldn't go down in the conning-tower -nohow. They had shells all over 'em and all round -'em, and Frenchy Porter couldn't 'elp ducking 'is -'ead. Just as a big one come sloshing along—right -over the bridge, it seemed—an' Frenchy 'ad ducked—that -'ere little box-of-tricks comes up to 'im, a-smiling -and as jaunty as you please, and says to 'im, a-jerkin' -'is arms and 'is 'ands: 'When the noise come, you -duck your 'ead—but then she 'as gone—you are too -late'—it ain't no bloomin' use, or words to that heffect. -A great, little gen'l'man, that be, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After hearing this story, the Orphan was jolly glad -the Admiral </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> spoken to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the days whilst the piers were being built, -the weather was magnificent and the sea quite calm. -It never blew at all until the 3rd May, when a breeze -got up from the north-east and swept clouds of sand -off the ridge above "W" beach—a regular sandstorm, -which hid it from the view of the ships for -several hours. This fact is very good proof of the -enormous amount of trampling which had converted -the green ridge and gully into a waste of dry sand in -only nine days. The wind increased all the night -of the 3rd May, and blew quite hard on the 4th; and -though "W" beach gave a "lee", a very unpleasant -swell swept round the end of the Peninsula, and made -the going alongside the pontoon and trestle pier very -tricky work. Lighters empty and lighters loaded -broke adrift, and the Orphan had the job of rescuing -several; and in doing so knocked his picket-boat about -a good deal, and stove a hole in her side, abreast the -engine-room, which made it absolutely necessary for -her to be hoisted in and patched. The Commander -cursed him for his carelessness, and made the poor -Orphan miserable until Captain Macfarlane happened -to see him. "A day off to-day, Mr. Orpen?" he asked, -with a twinkle in his eye, for he knew what had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I knocked a hole in the picket-boat, sir," the -Orphan answered gloomily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only one?" the Captain said, tugging at his -yellow, pointed beard. "Only one? Why, when I -was a midshipman—— Oh! Here comes the Admiral! -I have not time to tell you what I could do -in those days in the way of breaking up boats. Come -to my cabin and have tea with me in half an hour." The -Orphan felt a different "man" after that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took the opportunity of his boat being inboard -to give her a coat of paint, which hardly had time to -dry before she was hoisted out and back again in the -water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now all this time the Orphan had scarcely set foot -on shore, because whenever he took his picket-boat -alongside one or other of the piers at "W" beach, -there was so much risk of her being damaged that he -dare not leave her. He was as wild and harum-scarum -a young officer as could be met with, when not in his -beloved picket-boat; but once he took charge of her -he never forgot that he </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> in charge of her, and -responsible for her safety; and this not because he -feared the Commander's sharp tongue or the -displeasure of Captain Macfarlane, but from a very firm -sense of duty, which he would probably have most -indignantly denied if told that that was the reason.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hang it all!" he often said, when Bubbles tempted -him "to just leave your old boat and come along and -see our dug-out"; "but, old Bubbles, I can't, that's -all, I'd love to, but I can't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, virtue was rewarded, for when the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -became "bombarding" ship, he and his picket-boat -were placed under the orders of the Beach-master at -"W" beach. Nothing could have given him greater -pleasure. Whenever she was not actually required -for duty, and could safely anchor off the beach, he -lived ashore with Bubbles and the Lamp-post, and -shared their tent, or their "dug-out" if they were -being shelled. He had a splendid time: the best time -of the three of them, for he was away in his boat most -of the day, so escaped nearly all the heavy shells and -the abominable pestilential flies; had every other -night "in"—often two or three "running"—and -could wrap himself up in his blanket and sleep -splendidly, outside the tent and under the open sky, with -his picket-boat safely anchored a hundred yards off -the beach, with Jarvis in charge of her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Probably of all the Honourable Mess, the Orphan -enjoyed himself the most thoroughly.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-army-comes-to-a-standstill"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Army comes to a Standstill</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the day after the landing—the Monday—the -French troops who had been disembarked on the -Asiatic shore and had captured 500 prisoners were -re-embarked, and the whole of the French -Expeditionary Force commenced to land on "V" beach, -where the poor old </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> lay, aground, under -the castle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On Tuesday the whole Allied forces advanced for -two miles along the plain towards the white village -of Krithia and the high ridge of Achi Baba, which -barred their way. They met with very little resistance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the Wednesday a further advance was made; -but at the end of the day the Turks counter-attacked -so fiercely that it became necessary for our troops to -dig themselves in, when they were yet a mile from the -village. The Allied army was now "up against" the -position which the Turks had so carefully prepared -with all the ingenuity and skill their German -instructors had taught them, and, for all practical -purposes, no real further impression was made on this -position during the remainder of "The Great Adventure".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was on the Tuesday afternoon that Bubbles and -the Lamp-post first came under shrapnel-fire. They -had obtained leave, for half an hour, to climb up the -ridge above "W" beach, and watch the progress of -the advance in the plain below them; and whilst there, -the Turks began bursting shrapnel above and all -around it. This they took all as part of the game, -and were rather pleased than otherwise when one -shell, bursting not very far above and in front of -them, scattered bullets in the ground close by.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles burst out with a loud guffaw of enjoyment, -and would have remained standing where he was—on -the sky-line; but the Lamp-post, who had a very old -head on his young shoulders, made him take cover -in the Turkish trench there—a trench which our -Sappers had already begun to deepen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's no use for us to be knocked out," he said; -"and it's a rotten kind of bravery not to take cover -when you aren't doing anyone any good by making -a target of yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was on that afternoon that Captain Macfarlane, -coming ashore to stretch his long legs and to see -how things were going with the beach party, -happened to find Bubbles and the Lamp-post. The -Beach-master's servant had just made them a cup of -tea, so they, rather nervously, asked him if he would -have one. Of course he would; so they sent the little -man away to borrow the Pink Rat's enamelled mug. -The Captain had just walked back from the lighthouse, -and along the trench up which the midshipmen -had carried those boxes of ammunition on the Sunday -night. He had heard of this, and was speaking -about it when the servant came back. Frightened out -of his life he was, the miserable-looking little man, -to wait upon so important an officer as Captain -Macfarlane. The sight of a strange naval Captain simply -terrified him, and made him quite incoherent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He helped us," they said. "He took up two by -himself, and then helped with another. He was jolly -plucky, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must have found them very heavy, didn't -you?" the Captain said kindly. "It was a very -plucky thing to do, under those conditions. What -is your name? I must remember it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the little man looked more frightened than -ever, dropped the cup he was carrying, opened his -mouth, couldn't speak a word, and simply fled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane smiled and pulled his beard. -"A strange thing is courage," he said. "It comes -at times to the most unlikely people. You can't -legislate for it. Now, that little chap probably -deserves the D.C.M.[#], if anybody does; and if he had -it he would very likely suffer agonies all his life, -dreading lest he should have to 'live up to it'."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] D.C.M. = Distinguished Conduct Medal.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Before he went away, the Captain advised them to -dig "dug-outs" for themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the shrapnel hardly comes as far as the ridge," -they said; "and they tried to reach the beach this -morning from the Asiatic side and couldn't. We saw -the shells falling three or four hundred yards -short—four of them. Nothing but a few bullets come near -here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Young gentlemen,"—he smiled, with that kindly, -humorous expression of his—"the Turks will bring -up more guns in a few days, mark my word, and -probably advance those they have. When they do, it -won't be only shrapnel and small stuff, so you had -better be ready."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But they thought this rather useless waste of time; -they didn't mind what came—or thought they didn't—and -besides, the soldiers would capture Achi Baba in -a few days, and then no Turkish guns could reach them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We </span><em class="italics">shall</em><span> capture that hill in a day or two, shan't -we, sir?" they asked; but he only smiled his inscrutable -smile, and added: "Young gentlemen, take my advice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took them round to select a spot, but nowhere -within the limits which the Navy had pegged out as its -camp was the ground anywhere steep enough to dig -a cave, which, as he told them, "was of course the -best of all." He tugged at his beard and smiled again -as he looked at a very suitable place just to the left -and below the Naval Camp boundary. "Well, you -will have to do your best—where you are: the Navy -cannot poach, can it?—not on these occasions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So that very night, whenever they had any time to -spare, they began to dig a hole for themselves in the -gentle slope on the left of the gully, just behind where -the naval mess-tent was eventually put up. Spades -were plentiful, and they thought it great fun, although -they were rather shy of being the first to do this. -However, everyone followed their example—in fact -the Beach-master ordered some form of protection to -be dug for everyone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They scooped a place away about four feet wide, and -by digging downwards, and nibbling, and broadening -it, they soon had a "funk-hole" where all three of -them could squeeze uncomfortably. They did try, by -undermining the slope, to get some protection -overhead; but the slope was too gentle for this to be a -success, and the top kept falling in, especially if -someone happened to walk near it. No timber was as yet -available, so their "dug-out" had really no cover at -all, but was simply a deep furrow, deeper at one end -than the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though they did this at first for fun, and because -Captain Macfarlane had advised them to do it, they -were very glad they had taken his advice when, a few -days later, the Turks did advance their field-guns and -peppered the ridge, the gully leading to it, and "W" -beach itself very liberally, not only with shrapnel, but -also with common shell. Few of these common shell -burst, and when they did, seldom hurt anyone; but -no one, however brave or however small, can stand in -a place which is being shelled, without feeling that he -is the biggest thing there—for miles round—or the -most conspicuous person, however many others are -round him. The casualties from this first day of -thoughtful and thorough shelling were very slight, -considering the crowded state of the area, and the -men's principal anxiety was to obtain fragments of -shells or intact unexploded ones, digging those out -before they had time to get cool. However, the -competition in making "dug-outs" certainly became much -more keen afterwards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Neither the periods of being shelled nor the making -of "dug-outs" was allowed to interfere with the work -of the beach parties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those men who happened to be off duty crawled -into their "funk-holes", but the others went on -working; and of course, as most of them were employed -below the cliffs, they really were not—as were the -soldiers' working-parties stacking stores on the -slopes—exposed the whole of the time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In those first four days an enormous amount of work -was done; mountains of stores were piled on either -side of the gully, mules and horses in hundreds were -landed, guns and their limbers—18-pounders, long -60-pounders, heavy guns and squat 6-inch howitzers—water -carts, transport carts, and ambulance wagons. -Hundreds of light two-wheeled carts were brought -ashore, in readiness to follow the Army when the -advance, which was fated never to take place, -commenced; and by the end of the first week the slope -between the ridge and the cliff, from the end of the -Peninsula to Cape Helles lighthouse, was one orderly -mass of mule and horse lines, transport "parks" and -stores, and the ground which had been so covered -with grass and scrubby bushes had been worn bare, -as barren as the beach and the cliffs themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Until the fifth day the beach parties had lived in -the open, but on that day several marquees and tents -were brought ashore and pitched for them. Quite a -cosy little collection of white tents they made, at the -bottom of the left-hand slope of the gully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the Thursday and Friday very little happened. -The Army was digging itself in a mile and a half from -Krithia, and about three miles from the ridge over -"W" beach; practically all guns had been landed; -the whole of the Royal Naval Division and other -reinforcements had disembarked; and several thousand -wounded had been safely sent on board the hospital -ships, and transports used as hospital carriers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the Saturday night the Turks, at about ten -o'clock, commenced a desperate effort, first to pierce -our lines (which they did, momentarily, but only -momentarily), and afterwards to drive the French into the -sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post had a night "in" that night; and -when the noise of firing woke him, was comfortably -snuggled in a corner of the mess marquee, rolled in -his blanket. The crackling of rifle-firing broke out -on the left at first, and grew so fierce and incessant -that he realized this was something quite different to -anything he had heard before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That counter-attack on the first Sunday, when he -and Bubbles had helped to take up ammunition, was -as nothing compared to it, and had not made him feel -nervous—or perhaps anxious is a better word—as this -did. He then had had something to do; but now, after -a very hard day's work, and two spells of being shelled, -he had nothing to do but lie there and listen to the -really appalling din of musketry, field-guns, and the -roar of the two 60-pounders on the end of the Peninsula, -above him, which, every time they fired, lighted -up the inside of the marquee and shook the ground -beneath him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he lay, undecided as to whether or no he should -get up and see what was happening, the intensity of -the firing grew, until it reached such a pitch of frenzy -that he felt certain that this must be the prelude to -hand-to-hand fighting. He could not help but feel -nervous. He was not blessed with a dull imagination, -and he could not prevent himself picturing what was -happening beyond the ridge, and what </span><em class="italics">would</em><span> happen -if the Turks drove in our thin lines and forced them -back to the sea below. He worked himself into such -a state of nerves that at last, when the French "75's" -broke into rapid firing—one continuous screech—he -could stand it no longer, pulled on his boots, and -went outside the marquee. Out over the Straits the -sea was all a glitter of transports' lights as usual, and -the row of "flares" along the beach lighted up the -beach parties unloading boats, and the working parties -wearily carrying stores towards the two flares which -marked the depots on the slopes of the gully—all went -on just as usual. But horse teams with their limbers -were coming down from the ridge, past him, towards -the ammunition depots, at the bottom of the -gully—coming down at an unaccustomed speed; and he heard -their drivers shouting impatiently for their limbers to -be filled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He ran to one of these, who had swung round his -limber and was now trying to calm the big horse he -was sitting—the "near leader" of the team.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's going on?" the Lamp-post asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They've broken through the 86th," the man told -him; "came on without firing a shot—the beggars!" But -the midshipman could get nothing more out of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know nothing more. Curse this darned -horse! Keep still, can't you? My job's to get more -of the stuff up to the guns. I don't know nothink. -Chuck it, yer blighted fools! Ain't yer been long -enough together? Cawn't yer smell who you've got -next yer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two horses were nosing each other, one trying -to bite, and both fretting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They ain't worked together afore," he said, as the -Lamp-post, who loved horses, separated their heads -and rubbed their noses soothingly. "I 'ad to get a -fresh 'off leader' this morning; the other was killed -just t'other side of that 'ere ridge—shrapnel summat -cruel there, all day—cawn't move a team but bang -bursts a shrapnel—and they've been bursting shrapnel -now, all along the road we've just come and have to -go back by—curse them! This darned fool brute—chuck -it, you blighter!"—as the horse he was sitting -slyly bit the neck of the new "off leader", who sidled -and trembled—"'e cawn't abide a stranger. 'Ere, stop -that kicking! 'Old yer 'eads up, cawn't yer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He jerked the two horses apart as the two -"wheelers" behind them began to plunge, and their -driver to curse as he steadied them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Struth! Ain't they fair cautions? Almost 'uman," -growled the Lamp-post's friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Someone in the rear of the limber banged down -the limber covers and shouted: "Right away, Bob!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stand clear! Get up, you brutes!" and the -drivers cracked their whips; but the wheels of the -limber had stuck in the sand, and the four horses, -excited and plunging, and not pulling together, could -not move them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Clap on, you chaps! Give us a start!" shouted -the drivers; and the Lamp-post and some more men -hauled on the spokes of the wheels; the whips -cracked, and this time the horses moved the limber, -and away it went, jolting up the gully, on its way -back with more shells for its battery, somewhere in -the valley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post followed it up the ridge, and there, -for two hours and more, he watched the battle in the -dark, hundreds of men standing near him. Compared -to that Sunday night fight, the noise was as the inside -of a boiler-shop, with work in full swing, to the noise -of a country blacksmith's forge; and the sight of it -like a Crystal Palace firework night, to the five or six -shillings' worth of squibs and rockets he and his -brothers used to have at home on the 5th November.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had read of the famous French "75's", but -he had thought the descriptions probably more -picturesque than real. Now, as he listened to their -extraordinarily determined voices, they seemed so -self-confident, so absolutely sure of themselves, that he -no longer wondered why the French almost worshipped -them; and when they started rapid fire, as -they did occasionally, a whole battery, sometimes two -together, he realized that this was the glorious </span><em class="italics">rafale</em><span> -he had heard so much about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More empty limbers came toiling up from the -valley, unable to go fast because of the darkness, and -only dashing across the area over which shrapnel -were bursting. The drivers of these passed the word, -as they went down the gully, that the Turks had been -driven back again, and the line made good. That was -reassuring.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He heard Bubbles laughing and guffawing -somewhere near, and found him. "The Commander let -me come along for half an hour. Isn't it a grand -show?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst they stood there, many tilted wagons passed -down into the valley, their wheels creaking and the -mule chains jangling; and as those 60-pounders fired, -their glare lighted up the white patches and the red -crosses painted on them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A regiment (it had only come back from the trenches -the previous afternoon) came up the gully, the men -dragging their shuffling feet through the sand, and -voices calling wearily: "Step out, men! Don't go -to sleep, lads! Close up, lads! Pull yourselves -together!" The head of it bent over the ridge and -trailed down into the valley, till, like a long snake, -it disappeared in the darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the half-hour which Bubbles had been -allowed was "up", the Lamp-post went back with -him. The Turks had evidently broken themselves, -and their attack was weakening; also, he was dead -tired. He threw himself down in the marquee and -slept till daybreak, not even wakened by a still more -furious attack delivered, later on, against the French -flank—an attack which was only repulsed after very -heavy losses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ambulance wagons came back in the morning -crammed; wounded who could walk, stumbled down -to the beach, lay down, and slept; also, a large batch of -Turkish prisoners came along with a grinning escort. -That day there was another general advance, with -heavy casualties but little progress; and on the -following night the Turks attacked again, more -impetuously than the night before. This time they threw -their whole weight against the French flank and -against the section held by the Senegalese troops, -who had been very severely punished already. These -troops are not suited for defensive night-work, and -again they gave way. The Lamp-post—on duty this -time—down on the beach, could be almost certain that -they had given way, by the continuous roar of the -</span><em class="italics">rafales</em><span>, and again he could not help being anxious -until news came that all was well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These two nights completely cured him of the -nervousness which is only natural for anyone who has -had no previous experience; and though there were -countless attacks and counter-attacks in the nights to -come, they never worried him, nor, if he were asleep, -was he often wakened when those 60-pounders -"chipped in" and shook the ground under him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the early mornings, after these nights, the tired, -haggard, earth-stained "working-parties" came back -from the trenches, where they had been fighting all -night, bringing tales of creeping bombing-parties, of -furious rushes right up to their parapets, and of -encounters between their night patrols, helping back -the wounded, and perhaps escorting a few Turkish -prisoners. These tales made each night's fighting -a little epic of its own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To Bubbles, the Lamp-post never confided his ideas -or emotions, because that fat, joyous midshipman -looked upon the whole thing as one vast "spree", -with a spice of danger that only added to its -attractions. Each wounded man who was sent off to the -ships, he envied his honourable wound, and the fact -that many of them were maimed for life never entered -his mind, nor the tragedy of the women and children -dependent on them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The day after that second big counter-attack, during -a bout of shelling from some field-guns concealed -below Achi Baba, a shell came into a "dug-out" -where a petty officer and two men of the beach party -were sitting, and killed all three. After this, more -spare time than ever was spent on deepening these -"dug-outs". Then followed two more days of desperate -fighting for the capture of Krithia village, and -ghastly, never-ending streams of wounded came down -the gully to the casualty clearing-station, whose white -tents had been pitched above the cliffs, to the right of -it. Our losses were terrific, and our gains practically -nil. As a set-off to the splendid failure of the centre, -the Gurkhas captured a commanding cliff on the left -flank—Gurkha Bluff—and under protection of fire -from the </span><em class="italics">Talbot</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Dublin</em><span>, dug themselves in so -securely that these gallant little men never let go their -hold on it.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The continual strain of those first two weeks was -already beginning to tell on the three snotties—hardly -noticeable, perhaps, in the case of Bubbles, though he -was undoubtedly thinner; but the Pink Rat was one -mass of nerves—he jumped if anyone spoke to him -suddenly—and he lost his appetite. The Lamp-post -became more silent and thoughtful than before, and -his nerves, too, were very "rocky", but he had such -strong control over himself that no one could have -thought that this was so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Their clothes were stained with good honest dirt, -and torn and ragged from honest hard work. They -became such unpresentable scarecrows that at last -the Beach-master suggested that an improvement -was desirable. So they went across to the Ordnance -Stores and hunted out the stock sizes of the soldiers -suits in store, which would fit them best. They also -obtained puttees, and after those first ten days or two -weeks the only thing "naval" about them was their caps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the 12th May—a most perfect day it was—the -three snotties were sitting outside their tent after -lunch, smoking cigarettes, and watching an aeroplane, -circling gracefully above them, looking for a good -landing-place on the cliffs, close to the lighthouse -Suddenly a great, tearing, rending noise seemed to fill -all space. Everyone dropped, automatically, what was -in his hand and bent his head; then, looking up, saw -a cloud, black and oily—a hellish-looking balloon of -smoke—suspended in the air above the ridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the first high-explosive shell which burst -near "W" beach. "Gallipoli Bill"—a stumpy 6-inch -howitzer—fired it, and fired many more that afternoon -and again an hour before sunset, some of his shells -bursting on impact, others in the air—all with that -rending, awe-inspiring crash.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was by this time, on top of the ridge, a broad -sandy track, which must have been most conspicuous -from Achi Baba. On each side of it, six or eight -hundred horses and as many mules had been picketted, -and those poor creatures suffered most. The snotties -had fled to their dug-out; the Pink Rat lying flat on -his face with his hands over his ears, whilst the other -two peered over the edge, watching where the shells -dropped. They did not—not even Bubbles—want to -see them, but the terrible roar fascinated them, and -they were obliged to do so. They would hear the noise -of another approaching, and, three or four seconds -later, up would go a cloud of black smoke and that -thunderclap of an explosion—not one farther away -than three hundred yards. "Right among the -horses!" the Lamp-post would say, with a catch in -his breath; and when the smoke drifted clear, there -would they see six, a dozen—often more—of these -gallant animals lying dead, or feebly trying to regain -their feet horribly mutilated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Other shells burst in open spaces, doing no harm; -others among the mules and transport-wagon "parks". -After every explosion, men would leave their -"dug-outs" and rush to the place, a couple of -stretcher-men would perhaps dash down from the casualty -clearing-station; and then the noise of another -approaching shell would send them scurrying -back—scurrying fast, all of them, except the stretcher-men, -who if they had found an injured man had to bear -him slowly and steadily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One shell, on that first day, fell right among a -warren of crowded "dug-outs", and the Lamp-post -turned away his head with a shudder, so as not to see -what would come to view when the smoke cleared -away. When he did turn round—it was so horribly -fascinating—he saw men scrambling from those -"dug-outs", jostling each other in the crater just made -among them, shouting and laughing, and squabbling -and searching for "souvenirs".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Farce and tragedy are, thank God! perpetually -associated; if they were not, and only tragedy stared -one continually in the face, human brains could not -endure the strain of modern warfare as they do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Writing of "dug-outs", it did not really make much -difference where one took shelter, for those "funk-holes" -gave no protection from a direct hit, only from -sideways-flying splinters and fragments; a hare -crouching on its "form" is no more protected from -being trodden under foot than a man in one of these -from the actual shell itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All through these periods when high-explosive shells -burst on the ridge and the slopes down to the gully, -the empty limbers, water-carts, and transport wagons -would jolt down to the depots, fill up, and go back -again, up the slopes through the area where those -shells were falling, up that broad road between those -huddled masses of quivering mules and horses, just -as though nothing unusual was happening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gallipoli Bill" at first fired for half an hour in -the middle of the day, and again for another half an -hour before the close of it; but presently, when he had -received a more plentiful supply of ammunition, often -gave an additional "hate" in the forenoon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The one thing in his favour, as compared to the -field-guns, was that after he had fired his ten or twelve -rounds, you knew he would not fire again for several -hours. With the field-guns it was different—their -little shells fell at all hours and all through the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To add to the attractiveness of "W" beach—or -"Lancashire Landing", as it was afterwards called—as -a health resort, hostile aeroplanes often dropped -bombs there. Nobody attempted to take cover when -these aeroplanes flew past, for the simple reason that no -"cover" existed, except actually underneath the very -foot of the cliffs. They had to carry on their work, -wait until they heard the rushing noise of the bomb, -and when the explosion followed, wait for the second -one which almost invariably followed it. Afterwards -they knew that this "show" was concluded, and that -"Cuthbert", as they called the aeroplane, would not -drop any more on that trip. "Cuthbert's" average -"bag" in three days would seldom exceed two men -wounded and one killed, and perhaps three or four -horses or mules killed, or so much injured that they -had to be shot. Generally, at about seven o'clock in -the morning the first aeroplane would come, on its -way to wake the General Head-quarters Staff aboard -the </span><em class="italics">Arcadia</em><span>, anchored close by; and then occasionally -in the evening, when he was off to see if he really -couldn't—this time—manage to flop a bomb on top of -the captive balloon or its parent ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This last was one of the pleasures of the day, and -the Lamp-post and Bubbles would often sit and watch -"Cuthbert" flying towards the big yellow balloon—flying -well above it to keep out of range.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The parent ship would haul the balloon down just -as fast as she could—"to lessen the bump if it was -hit", as Bubbles used to gurgle. Then the Lamp-post, -through his glasses, would see first one, then -another bomb drop from the aeroplane; would shout: -"He's dropped one—two!" and in a few seconds, -whilst they held their breath and watched, up would -go the splashes these explosions made. Never did -they hit either balloon or parent ship. It really -became a perfect farce; though, as Uncle Podger told -them, when one day, coming ashore to pay the beach -party, a small shell had buried itself quite close to -him and his money-bags, and a bomb had dropped -and burst not fifty yards away: "It's all very pretty -to watch, but I prefer watching it from the ship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Directly it became evident that "Gallipoli Bill" -had come to stay, all those horses and mules were -brought down and placed in safety beneath the cliffs, -and along ledges which the Turkish prisoners and -a large number of imported Greek labourers cut for -them in the face of the cliffs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they were all safely stowed away, the end of -the Peninsula presented a most extraordinary sight, -and if only the crippled </span><em class="italics">Goeben</em><span> could have come out -and had half an hour's practice, she would have killed -them all. Magazines also were dug beneath the cliffs, -and the vast stores of small-arm ammunition, shells, -charges, bombs, grenades, and explosives of all sorts -were placed out of danger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Water, or rather the scarcity of it, made life still -more unpleasant; water for drinking was sufficient, -but had to be used carefully; the amount allowed for -washing was entirely inadequate. However, whenever -the snotties had the chance, they would scramble -along to the rocks right at the end of the Peninsula, -under Cape Tekke, and have a bathe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Many a grand hour they put in down there, and -forgot, for a time, the discomforts and perils of the -day which had passed, or of the days which were -to come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now, worse than the bombs, the field-guns' -shells, or those roaring, rending high-explosives, -came the flies. A fortnight after the landing they -had been a nuisance; at the end of the third week, -bred in the horse and mule lines, they became an -unbearable plague. The food on one's plate was -covered with them, they crawled over it; they crawled -over hands and faces; rest during the day was almost -impossible. It was horrid to see a man asleep, with -his lips, nostrils, and eyelids hidden in a dense mass -of them, clinging there and sucking the moisture. -At night, and only at night, was one free from these -beastly things, and then they gathered in countless -millions on the upper parts of the insides of the tents, -waiting till the warmth of next day's sun woke them -to start their intolerable persecution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mental torture caused by these was infinitely -greater than the total effect of the shells and bombs; -worst of all, they brought dysentery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pink Rat was the first one to go down. He -had worked hard and well, but the strain of the shells -had, very evidently, upset his nerves; he had been -moody and depressed for some days, and the flies -finished him. He had to be sent on board to -Dr. O'Neill, thinner, and more like a rat than ever. He -was quickly followed by six or seven of the men; -but Bubbles and the Lamp-post, though both were -affected by a mild form of dysentery—as was -practically everyone—and their hands were covered with -small "chipped-out" bits which would not heal, "stuck -it out" until they, and all who remained of the -original beach party, were replaced by officers and men -from the sunken </span><em class="italics">Ocean</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Irresistible</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The same day on which the Pink Rat left them, -the Orphan joined the little naval camp at the foot of -the gully, with its marquees and tents, and boundaries -marked neatly with white-washed stones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My aunt! Isn't this splendid?" he said, as -Plunky Bill gave him a hand up the beach with his -uniform tin case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His coming was a great event, just what the other -two snotties required to cheer them up. There was so -much to show him, and so much to do when all three -happened to be off duty—the bathes among the rocks -at the foot of Cape Tekke, the 60-pounders above it -to show him, the trenches down in the plain, the -trench up which they had carried ammunition, the -big Turkish guns on Hill 138; and one afternoon -they all three had time to walk across to "V" beach, -and wander about the neat, orderly French camp, -ingratiate themselves with the sentries to let them -pass forbidden places, and to look over the old castle -itself. The Orphan proudly took them to the "front -door", as his friend the Royal Naval Division -Sub-lieutenant had called the great arched entrance, and -explained to them how he had fired at the Turks -coming through it, with a maxim, and started a battle -"on his own", pointing to the bows of the </span><em class="italics">River -Clyde</em><span> to show where he and his maxim actually had been.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> come in for all the tit-bits; you are a -lucky chap!" Bubbles gurgled excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The late afternoon was not the most pleasant time -to choose for such an excursion, because "V" beach -was seldom "healthy" at that time of day, and -proved to be more than usually "unhealthy" on this -particular occasion, for "Asiatic Annie" plumped -fourteen or fifteen big 8-inch shells among the stores -and the camps whilst they were there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They all took shelter behind a small mountain of -corned-meat packing-cases, in company with a couple -of gaily dressed, shiny-black Senegalese, who were -not in the least happy, and a young, equally gaudily -dressed "Foreign Legion" soldier, who was quite -happy—a slim, sunburnt, laughing man in a red fez -with a long tassel, a grey-blue embroidered Zouave -jacket, a blue sash, and baggy scarlet trousers. One -shell came very near them, and burst with a terrific -crash on the other side of the packing-cases, blowing -in two or three, so that the meat-tins showed through -the cracks, but only covering the three midshipmen -with dust. This was the first high-explosive shell -which had burst near the Orphan, and he did not like -it a little bit. Bubbles and the Lamp-post, who had -had more experience of them, liked it still less; but -the Zouave only smiled: "Mon Dieu! le méchant! le -miseréble!" and offered them little twisted cigarettes -of black tobacco. They were not in the least -miserable when a long pause ensued after one shell, and -a bugle sounded to tell everyone that "Asiatic Annie" -had "packed up", and they were able to leave the -protection of their tinned-meat packing-cases.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the afternoon when the first German submarine -arrived, and sent the old </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> flying to Mudros -in the scurry of transports and store-ships, they -watched her go without any real regrets. The Orphan -and Bubbles certainly preferred to stay where they -were; and though, perhaps, the Lamp-post, at the -bottom of his heart, longed to get away from the flies -and shells, they could never get him to admit it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, three days later, the </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span> was sunk—along -the coast, off Anzac—and all the battleships -left Cape Helles; all except the old </span><em class="italics">Majestic</em><span>, who -came along and anchored so close to "W" beach -that you could almost throw a stone on board her -from the casualty clearing-station tents on top of the -cliffs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They won't 'get' her there, not with all those -trawlers and little steamers round her," Bubbles said. -But on Friday morning, just as they were turning to -work, and the Orphan was "standing by" in his -picket-boat to "run an errand", they heard a -rumbling explosion, looked round, saw a huge column -of water spout up alongside her, close to her after -bridge, and heard and felt another explosion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They've got her!" everyone sang out as she began -to turn over very rapidly; and the Orphan, shouting to -Plunky Bill to shove off, dashed towards her to pick -up men already jumping from her sloping deck into -the sea. She heeled over so extraordinarily rapidly -that the Orphan never had a chance of going alongside, -but stood off, and with other steamboats, with -trawlers, drifters, a French torpedo-boat, and any -number of other boats of all descriptions, made a ring -round the doomed ship, to which her crew swam. -The Orphan pushed his boat so close that he had to -back out to prevent her fore mast-head and "wireless" -gear fouling him as it heeled down to the water's edge. -It was a horrid and sad sight; but the Orphan was too -busily engaged pulling people out of the water to pay -much attention to that; and when his picket-boat could -hold no more, he turned them over to a small coasting -steamer anchored near, and went back again. By this -time she was bottom up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sinking of this ship had a most depressing -effect on everyone; and even the casual Orphan and -thoughtless Bubbles wondered what "Gallipoli Bill" -would do, now that there was no ship left with guns -big enough to annoy him. However, that elusive -howitzer had evidently very little ammunition to -spare—probably one of our "E" submarines in the Sea of -Marmora had sunk a steamer with a supply she was -expecting—so six shells, twice a day, were as much as -he could allow himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You will notice that no mention is now made of the -small shells. They still fell on "W" beach and in -the sea, close to the piers, at all hours of the day; but -unless they came in numbers, no one took any notice -of them. Their fuses were so poor that they seldom -burst, and when they did, they seldom did any harm.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The three midshipmen's time ashore was now drawing -to a close, and four days after the </span><em class="italics">Majestic</em><span> had -been sunk—how they did wish her ram wouldn't stick -out of the water and remind them of her!—a signalman -brought down a signal: "Officers and men of </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -beach party will embark in Trawler 370 at 11.30 -to-day. Trawler will take </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> picket-boat in tow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not until they had embarked, and the Orphan -had made "fast" a hundred feet of rope from his -picket-boat to the trawler's stern, that they learnt that -the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had been sent to Mytilene, and that they -were to join her there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They waved good-bye to "W" beach just as "Gallipoli -Bill" dropped a big shell half-way down the gully, -and the Lamp-post and Bubbles realized the relief of -not having to wonder where the next one would come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we've had a jolly good time—take it all -round—but for the flies," Bubbles said. "It will be -a good thing to get back to the ship for a while."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't we have a bath, and won't it be grand to -get into uniform—clean uniform and under-things -again!" said the Lamp-post; and Bubbles gurgled: -"Won't I have a grand feed!" forgetting what the -Orphan had told him of the state of the gun-room -stores.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="submarines-appear"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Submarines Appear</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Down in the gun-room of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, during this -month after the landing, the air was full of rumours—buzzes -of all sorts and little "titbits" of information, -gleaned haphazard everywhere and anywhere. -Every snotty—the Orphan, the Hun, Rawlins, or any -of the "stranger" midshipmen—who took his boat -alongside a transport or man-of-war, or to one of the -piers at "W" or "V" beaches, came back stuffed -with yarns which lost nothing by the telling: the -Dublins had lost every officer; the Worcesters all but -two; the Turks were torturing prisoners; there was -a fearful shortage of doctors; the beaches were simply -crowded with wounded, and there was nowhere to put -them; Krithia had fallen—the yarn spread after every -attack; the </span><em class="italics">Prince George</em><span> had a huge hole made in -her by one of "Asiatic Annie's" 8-in shells; the -poor old </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> would have to be abandoned—she -was being hit so often; the </span><em class="italics">Goeben</em><span> and two -Turkish battleships were just above The Narrows—the -aeroplane had seen them—and they might come down -at any moment; the </span><em class="italics">Agamemnon</em><span> had knocked out -three "Asiatic Annies" in one afternoon; the </span><em class="italics">Queen -Elizabeth</em><span> had fired three of her big 15-inch shells -across the Peninsula—the first had sunk two big -lighters filled with ammunition, the second had -dropped short and only wiped out a regiment on the -march, and the third had sunk a nine-thousand-ton -steamer, anchored above Nagara, crowded with troops, -none of whom was saved. The Pimple, who brought -this last piece of news, knew it was true, because the -Navigator had heard it from a man, who had heard it -from the friend of a man, who had been told by the -"observing" officer in the captive balloon which -"spotted" for the </span><em class="italics">Queen Elisabeth</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then there was the constant rumour that "last -night's counter-attack by the Turks was just their last -final effort; they were going to make peace now it -had failed". Poor old Turks! they had nothing to -gain by being so obstinate, and they had no food -and were short of ammunition—everything; they were -simply longing to "throw up the sponge" if only the -Germans would let them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Russia intended landing five hundred thousand -troops quite close to Constantinople; Italy was about -to declare war and send fifty thousand to help in the -Peninsula; the French had a hundred thousand already -on the way; and Kitchener, good old Kitchener, had -made up his mind to send out two hundred thousand. -Shan't we walk through them?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another snotty would burst in with the news that -he had heard, on good authority, that directly all the -mines had been swept up, the ships were to make -another dash up The Narrows, this time towing -pontoon "things" alongside them to stop torpedoes. -Another heard that all destroyers had been ordered -to rush through one night, steam up the Sea of -Marmora, and bombard Constantinople.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no limit to the inventive genius of the -"rumour spreaders", and the appetite for fresh, spicy -news became so keen that anybody who brought back -no titbit was thought a "hopeless rotter".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But one day, on the 12th May, Uncle Podger came -into the gun-room with a long face: "Two German -submarines have been reported passing Malta," he -said. This yarn was too incredible to be believed -by the young warriors coiled there, on the cushions, -in their dirty Condy's-fluid-stained clothes; and they -greeted it with such derisive yells, shouting, "Go -away and make up something else, Fatty!" that -Uncle Podger, who did not appreciate any such -familiarity from strangers, did not bother to tell them -that it happened to be the simple truth. This was -the first day on which it became generally known -that German submarines were approaching; and the -certain fact caused much consternation to all, -especially to those who had previously buoyed themselves -with the hope that these craft could not make such -a long voyage in time of war.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A very general feeling of uneasiness made itself felt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That same day the first high-explosive to burst on -"W" beach had brought everyone on deck, drawn -there by the sound of its mighty thunder-clap; and -sent them down again wondering whether it would -be possible to hold "W" beach under such -conditions much longer. The most optimistic looked -grave, and even the cheery, irresponsible Navigator -realized that this was not the occasion to invent yarns -and send them rolling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Discussion in the ward-room that night was -carried on fitfully and in low tones, and whenever -the door opened everyone would turn to see if the -newcomer's face showed that he had heard anything -"fresh". Among all brooded a very pervading feeling -of depression. The tall, aristocratic, and also -pessimistic Major of Marines explained in a low -voice to the anxious little Padre, sucking nervously -at his big pipe, the terrible anxieties of a General -whose army has no secure base and whose lines of -communication—in this special case, the sea—are -threatened; the Navigator, on the other side, pointed -out to the Fleet-Paymaster how impossible it would -be for the battleships to stay where they were, when -the submarines did put in an appearance. The -cheery Fleet-Paymaster kept on saying: "But, my -dear chap, we've got plenty of destroyers and -trawlers; they ought to keep them away at night-time, -and surely we can look after ourselves in the -daylight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Fleet-Surgeon, more gloomy and querulous -than ever, growled: "What the dickens d'you know -about it? They'll come right enough. We're just like -sheep waiting for the little dog that's coming across -the field to worry them; they pretend they'll stick -together and show a bold front, and know all the -time they'll be off like redshanks directly he gets -near. We're rats in a trap, that's what we are." He -seemed to obtain great satisfaction from the last idea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gunnery-Lieutenant, stamping nervously from -one end of the ward-room to the other, joined in -all the conversations, and kept on bursting out with: -"We must have a 'go' at that high-explosive chap -to-morrow, and try and knock him out before they -come;" they being, of course, the submarines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The War Baby—that youngest thing in subalterns -of Royal Marines—sprawled over the ward-room table, -with his chin on his fists, anxiously listening to -everybody, hoping to glean something or other which -would point a way out of the difficulties and comfort -him. The Commander, coming down from making -certain that the ship had been darkened properly, -snapped out: "I can't get those transports to 'darken -ship'. The Admiral has ordered everything, big or -little, not to show a single light; and there they are, -many of them, showing a blaze of lights as bright -as the Strand by night." He rang the bell and sent -the sentry to find Mr. Orpen. Presently that young -officer appeared, and was ordered "to go round every -ship in that darned anchorage and make 'em put out -their lights—and don't let me catch any of your boat's -crew smoking alongside the ship, as they were this -morning, or I'll——" But the Orphan didn't wait -for the penalty to be mentioned, answered "Very -good, sir," exchanged undetected winks with the War -Baby, and went out again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everybody turned in, that night, with their thoughts -full of submarines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An hour after midnight the poor old </span><em class="italics">Goliath</em><span> was -struck by three torpedoes, and sank. She had -anchored only that afternoon, up beyond Sedd-el-Bahr -and opposite a promontory known as "De Tott's -Battery" to protect the left flank of the French -army and she lay farther up the Straits and nearer -to Chanak Fort—the big fort at the entrance to The -Narrows—than any other ship. Beyond this fort a -Turkish destroyer was known to be lying, just above -The Narrows; and to prevent her making a sortie, -four of our destroyers patrolled the waters between -Chanak Fort and De Tott's Battery, dodging a very -brilliant search-light on Chanak Fort which lighted -up this area night after night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now the previous evening, just before sunset, a -heavy and most unusual bank of fog had rolled slowly -out of The Narrows, and made the night so dark that -the look-outs on board the patrolling destroyers -and on board the </span><em class="italics">Goliath</em><span> could hardly see a cable's -length in front of them. It was just the night that -that Turkish destroyer would be waiting for; and -when Chanak search-light was not switched on at -all, and the Straits were shrouded in thick, ominous -darkness, the </span><em class="italics">Goliath's</em><span> people had a suspicion that -"something" would happen, and kept a more ready -watchfulness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shortly after one o'clock the "look-outs" on her -bridge, and round the guns on the fore shelter-deck, -sighted a dark mass on her starboard bow, and made -it out to be a destroyer, drifting, stern first, with the -current, towards the ship, just as our own patrolling -destroyers had been accustomed to do. They used -to steam towards Chanak and its search-light, stop -engines, and drift back with the current which always -flowed down through The Narrows, drift down until -they were abreast De Tott's Battery, and then steam -back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first she was thought to be a British destroyer, -but something roused suspicions, the "challenge" was -flashed across; she flashed back, but incorrectly; and, -realizing that she was an enemy, orders were given -to open fire on her. Two shots blazed out, but they -were too late; she let fly three torpedoes, one after -the other, all of which struck "home"; and in four -minutes the </span><em class="italics">Goliath</em><span> had rolled over, taking down -with her more than five hundred of her officers and men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those on deck in the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had heard the muffled -explosions, and seen the search-lights from the other -battleships above Sedd-el-Bahr searching the surface -of the water there; but not for some time did anyone -know what had really happened—not until a signal -flashed across to say that the </span><em class="italics">Goliath</em><span> had been sunk, -and to ask for steamboats to be sent to search for -survivors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, who had only just returned from his -long job of making all the obstinate transports and -other ships "darken ship" properly, was immediately -sent up to the scene of the catastrophe, and the Hun, -with his steam pinnace, followed. They picked up -and brought back one dead body and a mere handful -of very much shaken men. As you know, everyone -had turned in that night with "submarines on the -brain"; so when Dr. Gordon went to the Fleet-Surgeon's -cabin and woke him with "Get up, turn out, -P.M.O., the </span><em class="italics">Goliath</em><span> has been sunk, and our boats -have gone for survivors!" you can imagine that the -Fleet-Surgeon naturally thought that a submarine -had done this, so was none too happy. "It'll be our -turn next; rats in a trap! My God! I wish I'd never -come to sea," he kept groaning as he slipped into his -clothes, found his swimming-belt,[#] and hurried on deck.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] By this time the swimming-collars had been -replaced by belts with greatly increased buoyancy.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The news, when it came at last, that she had been -sunk by a destroyer came almost as a relief, because, -in spite of the official signal to the contrary, everyone -hoped, down at the back of his brain, that perhaps a -mistake had been made, and that those submarines -reported from Malta would turn out to be a myth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In fact, next morning at breakfast, the Torpedo-Lieutenant -was quite bright and cheery. He was a -destroyer expert, and always pooh-poohed submarines -as much overrated craft, so now never tired of saying -"Destroyers are some good after all, you see," and -seemed to take as much pride in the success of the -Turkish destroyer, as if it had been an English one -which had sunk a Turkish battleship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without a doubt, everyone admired the pluck and -cunning of this destroyer and its German crew (it was -known afterwards that the crew was German), however -much—or little—the loss of the </span><em class="italics">Goliath</em><span> affected -him; and, truth to tell, it was not the loss of the ship -nor of the men that affected most people, but the -moral effect and the addition to the general feeling -of depression and uneasiness—uneasiness which, it -must be remembered, was not by any means chiefly -caused by fear for the actual safety of the ships and -themselves, but by the dread of what would happen -to the Army when left unsupported in its very -insecure position on the Peninsula, with the difficulties -of supplying itself with stores and reinforcements so -enormously increased. Those howitzers, too, might -render the position untenable, especially as, given -time, there was no reason why the Turks should not -bring up more and still heavier guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some of the surviving officers lived on board the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> for a few days, and slept in hammocks on -the half-deck, close to the China Doll. He will -never forget those nights when he turned in—always -nervous of submarines, and with his swimming-belt -all ready round his chest, in case of need—and then -had to listen to them relating their gruesome -experiences before and after the old ship rolled over and -they had jumped into the water. They were suffering -the after effects of their shock, and could talk of -nothing else all day long, and most of the night as well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll would hear, out of the dark, coming -from one of them: "You remember when that second -explosion came—you were standing close to me—in -the battery—the one that shot up that column of water -which cut the cutter in half—you remember—it fell on -old Tompkins—it was old Tompkins, wasn't it?—it -crushed him—don't you remember him howling?—just -for a second—and then, not answering when you -sung out to him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another voice—a big, gruff one—would "chip in": -"I'd just said to the Gunner, 'That's not one of our -destroyers—look at her funnels—you mark my -word—that's not one of ours'—just before we fired that first -shot—it didn't hit—I swear I heard a torpedo fired—the -first one—the one that hit us under the bridge—and -I'm certain I heard someone sing out: 'Gut! sehr -gut!'—he must have been a German—he sang -it out after each torpedo hit us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another voice out of the darkness, from a hammock -close to the China Doll, broke in with: "My word! she -did topple over—I could never have believed it -I was in my cabin—just had time to rush up to the -gangway—the water was pouring over the coaming—couldn't -stand on the quarter-deck—I don't know how -I got to the rails—I dragged myself up somehow, -and crawled right round her—oh, my God! the cries -inside her—men who couldn't get out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The big, gruff voice, which had stopped to listen, -interrupted again: "I got out through a gun-port, -crawled along the side—when she turned over the -bilge keel caught me and dragged me under—I never -knew how I came up again—a man close to -me—swimming in the water—had his face smashed in by -a plank which shot up from below—I got hold of the -plank—it kept me up till the </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson's</em><span> picket-boat -found me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not as if these disjointed remarks were made -only once, but they were repeated over and over -again; just as if the thoughts they expressed had been -fixed so indelibly in their brains, to the exclusion of -everything else, that when night and darkness came -they were again so vivid that they had to be given -utterance to.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The poor China Doll, with his swimming-belt -round his chest, would listen, with hair on end, until -he could stand it no longer; then he would jump out, -and run up on deck and wait, perhaps for an hour, -until they were silent. How grateful he was to wake -up and see daylight coming through the gaps in the -hatchway awning-cover, and to know that another -night was over! A good many more were as thankful -as he was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day the early morning "air" reconnaissance—made -by aeroplane—reported having seen five submarines -travelling past Kephez Point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That puts the hat on it," moaned the Fleet-Surgeon -when he heard of them; and everybody marvelled -how they had managed to elude the scouting -trawlers and destroyers. But most people felt a sense -of relief that the days of waiting for their coming were -now over, and that whatever was going to happen -would do so soon. However, the evening "air -reconnaissance" reported that these five submarines were still -there, but had now turned out to be buoys which we -ourselves had moored—so the grim tension was -relieved for a little while.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On that day "Gallipoli Bill" burst very many -high-explosive shells on "W" beach, apparently chiefly -out of bravado, to express his glee at the sinking of -the </span><em class="italics">Goliath</em><span>. Next day the </span><em class="italics">Agamemnon</em><span>, the -</span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, and the heavy batteries on shore "went" for -him, but could not hit him. The "spotting" aeroplanes -did their best to locate him and to direct the -firing; but a dummy gun is so easily put somewhere, -where it can be seen from above, and a real gun can -so easily be shifted and hidden, where it cannot be -seen, that quite possibly the ships and the shore -batteries were never firing at the real gun. At any -rate, directly they ceased fire, "Gallipoli Bill" threw -half a dozen more shells along the ridge above "W" -beach, and "pulled their legs" pretty thoroughly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Things went on quietly for the next two or three -days, although the howitzers did a lot of mischief on -shore. Rumours came that a trawler had sighted a -periscope off Imbros island, thirteen miles away, and -it seemed definitely ascertained that two submarines -had arrived at Smyrna.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the 18th May the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> relieved the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, -and from this date, until driven away by -submarines, she became a "bombarding" ship. She -once more ceased to fly a flag; the Admiral left her, -taking with him his two Assistant Clerks; best of all, -the devouring host of strange snotties and their -steamboats also departed, and quietness and peace reigned -in the gun-room. But, like Old Mother Hubbard's -cupboard, the gun-room store was bare—a fact which -brought bitter grief to the Pimple and the China Doll.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was another submarine scare that night. A -trawler fired two Very's lights, which meant "have -sighted a hostile submarine", and things "hummed" -considerably until it turned out that she had mistaken -E11, on her way up the Straits, from Mudros, for an -enemy submarine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Also, during that same night the Turks commenced -their desperate thirty-six-hour attack on Anzac, and -for all that period an almost incessant roar of heavy -guns came down wind from there. This attack ended -most disastrously for the enemy, who lost more than -three thousand men killed. The Honourable Mess -heard afterwards many yarns of this fight—yarns of -the Turks pressing through gullies against the -Australian and New Zealand trenches, pouring through -in dense masses, shouting "Allah! Allah!" and never -ceasing that cry, because they believed that no bullet -would touch them with the sacred name on their lips, -and being shot down in hundreds and hundreds, until, -in fact, some of the Australians, who had clambered -on top of their parapets the better to shoot, refused to -shoot any longer. Pressed along by the masses -behind them, the front ranks could not retreat—some, -throwing away their rifles, ran towards the trenches -with their hands above their heads, apparently -demented, shouting "Allah! Allah!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps they thought that God would give them -victory over the "infidel" with their bare hands; -perhaps they wanted to surrender; but none reached -those trenches. In front of one maxim alone, 380 -dead were counted when at last the attacks had melted -away, and the Turks had obtained an armistice to -bury their dead.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Now that she was "bombarding" ship, the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -had the job of looking after "Gallipoli Bill", and -often an aeroplane would fly up to "spot" for her -whilst she tried to knock him out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Such a day's firing would be arranged and start -something like this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps Captain Macfarlane had been ashore the -afternoon before, to stretch his long legs, and on -coming back to the ship would send for the -Gunnery-Lieutenant. "Oh, look here, I've been ashore this -afternoon. That 6-inch howitzer is bothering -everyone a good deal; it dropped one near me—it may not -have known I was there—but I thought it distinctly -rude; the Left Flank Observation Post—I was up -there this afternoon—think they have spotted him—just -to the left of that single tree near the windmills—you -know it—the place where those dummy field-guns -used to be; how about having a try for it in the -morning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir! Certainly, sir! We had better ask for -an aeroplane, I suppose," the very "strict-service" -Gunnery-Lieutenant would suggest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly! Certainly! Ask them to send a -specially nice one this time, perhaps a white one with -blue spots would look pretty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gunnery-Lieutenant, who was absolutely devoid -of all sense of humour, would look up startled, -only to see the Captain thoughtfully tugging at his -pointed yellow beard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think there are any like that, sir. They -have tried various colours, but none are invisible. -I think they have none like that, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Very well, we must just take our chance. -Perhaps they will send us one with pretty red, white, -and blue rings," the Captain would reply gravely, -without a tremor of an eyelid; and off would go the -bewildered Gunnery-Lieutenant to write out a signal -"requesting permission to bombard Target 159G7", -or whatever was the dot on the military map nearest -to "Gallipoli Bill", and wonder whether Captain -Macfarlane was going "off his head". Whilst -waiting a reply from the Admiral, he might run across -the Fleet-Surgeon and tell him what the Captain had -said. "I suppose there's nothing the matter with -him, Doc.? You don't think the strain is telling on -him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing the matter with him! Of course not," -would snap Dr. O'Neill. "It's yourself, you fool; -your silly noddle's so stuffed with wretched gunnery, -you haven't room for a joke. He was pulling your leg."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But where's the joke about 'white with blue spots'—I've -never seen one like that?" and the Gunnery-Lieutenant -would scratch his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! get out of it; you're hopeless!" Dr. O'Neill -would growl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the signal would come that the proposed -bombarding had been approved by the Admiral, who -would make arrangements for a "spotting" aeroplane -at ten o'clock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus were details fixed for another attempt to -destroy "Bill".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the morning the Gunnery-Lieutenant waited to -see how the current, or the breeze, or both together, -made the ship swing. Perhaps that especial morning -she swung with her stern inshore, so that "X" -group of 6-inch guns—the group on the starboard -side, aft—bore most easily. So, after breakfast, the -Gunnery-Lieutenant sent for the War Baby—in charge -of these guns—and showed him the exact spot on the -map and, taking him up into the main-top, the -special tree close to which "Bill" had last been -seen—the tree on which he had to train his guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The aeroplane with its pilot, the "observer" and -his wireless apparatus, started away from the -"advanced" aerodrome near Helles lighthouse, -commenced to climb up into the "blue", and, when -ready, signalled "Ready to Commence".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time the Gunnery-Lieutenant in the fore-top, -the Captain on the bridge, the War Baby in the -sighting hood of X1, and the guns' crews in X1 and -X2 beneath it, just abaft the gun-room, were all ready -and waiting. "Ranging shot at eight—five—o—o, -common shell," the Gunnery-Lieutenant sang down -through his voice-pipe; and watched, as X1 fired, -away along to the right of Krithia, between the last of -the windmills and that single tree, where he hoped that -the aeroplane could see "Bill", although he could -not do so himself. Up went the cloud-burst, and in -perhaps fifty seconds the voice-pipe from the -"wireless" room called "Short 200"—the signal that had -just come from the aeroplane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frequently, on these occasions, the enemy "wireless" -stations would "block" the "wireless" signals -from the aeroplane, or make "spotting" signals of -their own, to confuse the annoyed Gunnery-Lieutenant. -Always if the aeroplane ventured too near -"Bill", the Turks burst shrapnel round her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sights were corrected, and another shot fired; out -of the "blue" came the signal "Right, one hundred -and fifty yards". That meant altering the training -or, if the gun was kept on that single tree all the -time, altering the deflection scale on the sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so, for perhaps twenty rounds, firing went on. -"Bill", wherever he was, had never spoken a word; -the aeroplane signalled "O.K.", the interpretation -of which being that, as far as she could see, the last -shell had made a direct hit; and presently the -Gunnery-Lieutenant, who generally had the idea that the -aeroplane "spotter" didn't know his left hand from -his right, or "overs" from "shorts", and also was as -blind as any bat, thought it was about time to finish, -and would climb down and ask the Captain if he -should "pack-up".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The War Baby's guns' crews were then ordered to -secure and "sponge out" their guns, and a searchlight -signal was made to the aeroplane that the firing -was finished. Down she would circle to her aerodrome, -and if she had anything exciting to tell, would -signal it across from the Naval Signal Station close at -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After such a proceeding it often happened that, -almost before the aeroplane had come down to land, -"Bill" would plump three or four high-explosive -shells on "W" beach or in the soldiers' "rest" -camp. He was a facetious fellow, very wanting in -tact, and most elusive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To understand the difficulties of hitting him, you -must try and imagine yourself on the deck of an -ordinary steamer, standing somewhere about twenty -feet above the level of the water. The distance of the -sea horizon is then just a little over five miles. If you -now imagine that, instead of a continuous, uninterrupted -curved line, the curve of the horizon is broken -up by small gullies and ravines and depressions, in -any one of which "Gallipoli Bill" may be concealed—in -fact, </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> absolutely hidden from you—and all you -know is that he is supposed to be in line with, -perhaps, a particular tree which you can see; that up -above, there is an aeroplane quite possibly "spotting" -on a dummy gun, and that only a direct hit will -destroy "Bill", you obtain a good idea of the difficulties -of hitting him from where you are—standing in -your steamer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day, in order to reduce the range, the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -anchored in another billet, off "X" beach, farther -along the "outside" coast of the Peninsula, and had -hardly dropped her anchor before a cheeky battery of -4.1-inch guns began dropping their shells all round -her. It was impossible to locate the battery, and there -was no option but to shove off again, out of range. -Again, you must bear in mind that the flashes these -guns make when fired are very slight, and quite -momentary, also that dummy flashes were also fired -some distance away. The only sure proof that the -actual position of the firing gun had been located was -by observing the cloud of dust blown up from the -ground in front of the gun. The size and density -of this depends naturally upon the kind of ground, -and also, of course, a position behind ground thickly -covered with bushes is generally chosen to reduce -the dust to a minimum; so that, at a range of five -miles, what dust is thrown up is very, very seldom -visible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the course of the campaign many of the Turks' -guns were knocked out by the ships; but every shell -must fall somewhere, and if you fire a sufficient -number, sooner or later a lucky one may do the "trick" -and fall on the exact spot required.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But a ship's magazines are not inexhaustible; with -very little effort she could empty them in an hour, -and be as useless as a Thames barge until they were -refilled. If there had been an inexhaustible supply -in the ammunition ships at Mudros, and if a ship had -made full use of it, she would have worn out her guns -in next to no time; accurate firing would be impossible, -and the ship again practically useless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Knowing all these things, you should now be able -to realize the extraordinary difficulties of hitting a -single gun from ships at those necessarily long ranges, -and be able to understand their comparative failure to -do so.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>To return to the submarines. It was on a Saturday, -the 22nd May, that the first German submarine -actually made its appearance off the Peninsula. Just as -the Honourable Mess had finished their meagre lunch, -a signalman brought the Sub a signal, just received -from the </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span>, at anchor off Anzac. The Sub -read it aloud: "Hostile submarine sighted N.E. of -Gaba Tepe".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it's a good thing to get the show over," the -Sub said; and Uncle Podger remarked that "At any -rate it will be pretty to watch." They all went on -deck; and the sight of a long line of transports, store -ships, and hospital ships hurrying across from Anzac -to the little protected harbour of Kephalo, in the -island of Imbros, made it certain that they evidently -did not doubt that a submarine had been seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're in earnest, at any rate; there's a pretty -picture for you," said Uncle Podger as he watched -them, the smoke simply pouring out of their funnels -as they made haste to get out of danger. All ships -round Cape Helles—some forty or fifty ships of all -kinds—were ordered to raise steam, and the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, -shortening in her cable, waited for whatever would -turn up. Close to her lay the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>; and both -had to rely for protection on the keenness of their -"look-outs" and the quickness of their guns' crews, -because neither ship had torpedo-nets—the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -never possessed any; the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> were lying in a -store-house in Bombay Dockyard, where she had left -them a year before war broke out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everyone felt sure that "something" would happen -shortly, and actually experienced a sense of relief to -at last be faced with the danger which had so long -threatened. Very many took good care—very good -care—to secure their swimming-belts under their -tunics, in readiness to blow them up should the -necessity arise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a glorious day, with a very slight "ruffle" -on the sea; and, as Uncle Podger told the nervous -China Doll: "My dear chap, you couldn't want a -better day for a swim."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At half-past one the </span><em class="italics">Prince George</em><span>, in a new coat -of paint, steamed under the </span><em class="italics">Achates'</em><span> stern. She had -returned from a twenty-four-hours "spell" up the -Straits, looking after the Asiatic howitzers, and as she -turned slowly into position, to anchor, she suddenly -began to blaze away with her small guns, for'ard, -and went full speed ahead. At the same moment -the cruiser </span><em class="italics">Talbot</em><span>, about a mile away, hoisted the -signal "hostile submarine in sight", and fired a blank -charge to draw attention to it. "Close water-tight -doors" was piped along the decks; the crew dashed -down below; and the China Doll, trembling with -excitement, made his way for'ard, and saw the splashes -of the </span><em class="italics">Prince George's</em><span> shells following and bursting -all round what looked like the swirl and heave of -water which a big fish would make when swimming -just below the surface. One of the gun's crews near -him shouted that he saw a periscope; another, an -obvious liar, swore that he could see the tail rudders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two destroyers came dashing down—a smother of -black smoke and white foam—dashing right in among -the shell splashes—or so it seemed to the nervous -Assistant Clerk—and then began scurrying round and -round in circles, seeking something to pounce upon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the submarine had dived, and, whatever her -skipper's intentions were, she never showed herself -again that day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Prince George</em><span> came solemnly back and let go -her anchor, like some half-worn-out old watch-dog -who had gone barking round to drive off intruders and -then returned to his kennel door; whilst the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> -started off to join the destroyers in their search.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But then commenced a most extraordinary exodus -of shipping from Cape Helles. Transports and store -ships hove up their anchors and started off on their -sixty-mile journey to Mudros to seek safety behind -the submarine net across the entrance. The </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -received orders to proceed there too, and, you may -be sure, was not long getting under way, steaming -on a straight course until a signal came from the -Admiral, "</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> zigzag". The sea from Cape -Helles was one long line of hurrying steamers. -Two big "crack" French liners, the </span><em class="italics">France</em><span> and -</span><em class="italics">La Provence</em><span>, the first of which had only arrived that -morning, and had not yet begun to disembark the -four thousand troops on board, lingered at anchor -for nearly an hour. They were such huge ships, and -were such tempting submarine targets, that everyone -wondered why they delayed. Presently, however, -they joined in the race for safety, and catching up the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, steamed past her as though she had been -at anchor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was not the China Doll, and many more, too, -aboard her, delighted when the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> slipped -through the "gate" in that submarine net!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That night the </span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Canopus</em><span>, off Anzac, -remained under way, for safety. During the night the -</span><em class="italics">Albion</em><span> "took" the ground off Gaba Tepe, and, not -being able to get off, was exposed to a very heavy -fire at daybreak from howitzers, field-batteries, and -also from the 12-inch guns of a Turkish ironclad, -somewhere above The Narrows, and firing across the -land. Fortunately, this fire was as inaccurate as it -was heavy; but the situation was most dangerous and -unpleasant until the </span><em class="italics">Canopus</em><span> came along, in the thick -of the shells, laid out some hawsers to her, and at the -second attempt towed her clear, with a total loss of -only one man killed and nine wounded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next two days passed quietly; no submarines -were seen or heard of, until on the second morning, -at half-past eight, a periscope was suddenly observed -passing along between the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Agamemnon</em><span>, -at anchor off Cape Helles not six hundred yards from -each other. Fire was opened immediately, and down -dipped the periscope, to appear again just ahead and -on the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> starboard bow. The </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> -14-pounders blazed away, under went the periscope -and did not appear again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is a mystery why she did not fire a torpedo; -presumably she had no time to get into position to make -a good shot. A signal sent to the ships off Gaba -Tepe and Anzac warned them; but just before -half-past twelve the </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span> there was struck by two -torpedoes. The news that she had a list brought -all the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> officers and men on deck. Sure -enough, they could see her through telescopes listing -heavily, and two destroyers standing by. In twenty -minutes the red composition on her bottom showed -above the water; she rapidly fell over, remained -bottom upwards for some eight minutes, and then -disappeared. Fortunately, very few of her crew were -lost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another exodus of ships followed, and only the -poor old </span><em class="italics">Majestic</em><span> and the </span><em class="italics">Henri IV</em><span>, that quaint old -Frenchman—with the Captain who feared neither -mine nor torpedo—remained off the Peninsula. Three -days' grace the </span><em class="italics">Majestic</em><span> received, and then she too -met her fate, a submarine creeping up, with her -periscope just showing, and firing two torpedoes at her -through a gap between two small store ships. At -6.45 a.m. on Friday, 28th May, the poor old ship -received her death-blows, and seven and a half -minutes later capsized. For months her ram just -appeared above the water off "W" beach, until the -autumn gales made her settle farther down and -mercifully hid her from sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is not surprising that the general feeling of -uncertainty and uneasiness due to the approach or -German submarines should, now that they had arrived, -sunk two big ships, and driven the others away, give -place to one of foreboding and depression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The army, which had landed with such proud hopes -of opening the gates of The Narrows for the fleet to -pass through, had fought itself to a standstill at -Helles and Anzac; its supply beaches were constantly -under shell-fire, and even the "rest" camps daily -gave up their toll of dead and wounded from shells -shrapnel or high-explosive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The big ships could not use the narrow waters with -freedom or safety; and if one, two, three, or five -submarines, whatever their number was at this time, had -already made the long voyage from Germany, ten, -fifteen, or twenty might follow; and even if the big -ships forced their way to Constantinople, these -submarines could make it impossible for them to stay -there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everyone wondered what would be the next move—what -would happen next.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were two bright patches of cheerful sky -between the dark clouds: our own submarines, working -with unparalleled daring and skill, passed up and down -The Narrows, through the nets laid across to catch -them, almost at their ease, and prevented the Turks -from using the Sea of Marmora to bring up troops or -stores; the Commander-in-Chief himself remained -optimistic, in spite of all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. O'Neill, meeting Captain Macfarlane, who had -just returned from the yacht </span><em class="italics">Triad</em><span>, which now flew -the Commander-in-Chief's flag, asked him: "How -about the Admiral, sir? I suppose he is even more -depressed than we are?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a bit of it," Captain Macfarlane told him. -"He is quite cheery; he has a lot 'up his sleeve' yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From now onwards, the battleships remained -behind the nets at Mudros or Kephalo. From these, -every now and again, one or other of them would dash -out with escorts of destroyers; an aeroplane would circle -overhead to 'spot' for her; and she would bombard -the Asiatic guns, Achi Baba, Sari Bair, above Anzac, -or the Olive Grove, near Gaba Tepe, where the Turks -always had several guns. Having done as much -damage as possible, back she would steam, zigzagging -all the way into safety.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And from this time all stores, ammunition, and -reinforcements were carried across to the Peninsula -at night in trawlers, small coasting steamers, and -what were termed "fleet sweepers"; these being small -steamers, of a thousand to fifteen hundred tons, which -had—most of them, at any rate—previous to the war, -been employed in the passenger and freight traffic on -the cross-Channel, Irish, or Channel Island services.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Splendidly did they carry out their work—very -frequently under fire.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-peaceful-month"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A Peaceful Month</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The day after the </span><em class="italics">Triumph</em><span> had been torpedoed, and -two days before the </span><em class="italics">Majestic</em><span> met the same fate, the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> left Mudros for the island of Mytilene, -zigzagging all the way, because Mytilene lay at the -mouth of the Gulf of Smyrna, and Smyrna harboured -several submarines which might possibly be in wait -for her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A grand day it was, the sun shining out of an -almost cloudless sky, the sea bluer than the sky, and -ruffled pleasantly by a gentle breeze. In the evening -she passed through a narrow channel between tree-clad -heights, and anchored in the land-locked harbour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the last month it had not been possible to go -on deck without seeing a gun fired or a shell burst. -Down below, in cabin, ward-room, or gun-room, you -did escape the sight of them—and the sight of those -high explosives bursting among men and horses on -the beaches can never be forgotten—but you could not -escape the sound of them. Each time the air, coming -through scuttle, doorway, skylight, or hatchway, -thudded against your ears, the shock, big or little, -from far or near, made you wince, and made your -mind stop momentarily to picture the actual explosion; -your ears tingled, alert and braced, to receive the -next shock, until the constant, expectant waiting and -wincing became a strain which affected many people, -even those who were not then exposed to personal -danger. It made them irritable or taciturn, or brought -about little alterations of character and disposition, not -sufficiently definite, perhaps, to state in words, but -real enough to notice at the time. In addition, the -constant sight of trawlers and boats full of wounded, -passing the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> on their way to hospital ships, -had a constant depressing effect, not perhaps fully -realized at the moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Later, when there came the more imminent personal -danger from submarine attack, culminating in the -capsizing of two battleships, torpedoed in broad -daylight and in full view of thousands, in circumstances -which showed how impossible it was, under those -conditions of service, to meet submarine attack -successfully, the effect of the strain became more -pronounced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Above all, there lacked the success of the expedition, -which alone could act as an antidote to the strain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, therefore, the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> wound her way -through the tortuous channel into Ieros harbour, her -yards almost touching the thick brushwood which -clothed the cliffs, and these cliffs, shutting out all sight -of the sea, opened out to give a view of an inland lake -surrounded by olive-clad hills fading away in the -distance, and glowing at the warm touch of the evening -sun, their many-tinted green slopes reflected in its -placid waters; of villages, quiet little peaceful villages, -with the peasants clustering along the water's edge as -the ship floated past, or white-sailed boats crowded -with smiling, gaily-welcoming Greek men and women, -it seemed as though a magician's wand had suddenly -guided and wafted her into some fairy harbour, where -war and the brutalities of bloodshed could never have -been known and would never dare to intrude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Officers and men stood, drinking in, in their various -ways, the beauty, the peace, and the overwhelming -quietness of it all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old 'Gallipoli Bill' will drop one among those -people in a moment; they're exposing themselves -terribly," the Hun grinned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They've got 'dug-outs' all handy, somewhere close -by; you bet they have!" Rawlins said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder how our three chaps are getting on at -'W' beach;" said the Sub, smacking the open-mouthed -and staring China Doll on his back, so that his doll's -eyes nearly fell out. "My jumping Jimmy, what a -place! My blessed stars! What a bathe we'll have -when we've dropped the 'killick'. I'll ask the -Commander," and stalked away to find him, banging -every member of the Honourable Mess he met with -his fist, with shouts of "My jumping Jupiter, what a -place!" The Pimple pointed out to the China Doll -one of the boats they passed. Half full of oranges -and bananas it was; and their mouths watered and -their eyes brightened as they thought of the feast they -would have if it came alongside and the ward-room -messman did not buy them all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ship slowly turned round another bluff, and -a collier with two English submarines lying alongside -her came into view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They rather spoil the picture," Uncle Podger -said, "but we needn't look at 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> let go her anchor, the cable -rattled noisily, stopped, and the ship lay still.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A quarter of an hour later, "hands to bathe" was -"piped", and in less than ten minutes, at least five -hundred officers and men were bobbing in the water -alongside, and the air was alive with their cheery -shouts. The men dived off the booms, the nettings, -out of the gangways, or climbed down her sides; -the water for'ard was so thick with black heads and -white shoulders, that when another man and yet -another, a constant stream of them, dived in, one -could not help wondering if there was a clear space -for them to dive into, though the others always did -manage to "open out" and let the newcomer in -without accident.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aft, some of the Honourable Mess were diving off -the top of the accommodation ladder; others, the -more cautious ones, preferred to drop off the foot -of it. The Hun went off the top, so did Rawlins. -Uncle Podger walked sedately down the ladder, -turned a back somersault, and bobbed up again, -in time to see the Pimple make a show of diving -off the top, decide that it was too high, and walk -down it. The China Doll, trying to attract attention, -wouldn't even dive from the foot of the ladder. -"You'll promise not to duck me, won't you?" he -squeaked, and lowered himself down, holding on to -a rope. The Sub, with his gnarled muscles showing -under his bathing dress, and disdaining the twenty-foot -dive from the ladder top, climbed to the edge -of the after bridge with a water polo ball under his -arm, threw it far out from the ship, climbed the rails, -balanced himself for a moment, roared out "Look -out, you jumping shrimps!" and dived forty feet -into the water, cutting it like a knife, and coming -to the surface some thirty yards farther away. The -more sedate ward-room officers, disrobing in their -cabins, heard his stentorian, roaring shouts of, "My -jumping Jimmies! What a place!" Presently they -too appeared on deck, twisting their towels round -the quarter-deck rails before they joined the merry -splashing throng; the little Padre had his -swimming-belt round his chest, and his everlasting pipe -in his mouth. The Hun and Uncle Podger, seeing -him come down the ladder, winked at each other, -and waited to see what would happen when he -jumped into the water; but were disappointed, for -he lowered himself carefully; the swimming-belt kept -his head well above water, and he paddled about, -still smoking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Around and among all these swimmers paddled the -Greeks in their quaint, picturesque boats, watching -them and smiling with amusement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Hun and Rawlins, slightly out of breath, after -having disappeared for a few brief moments below -the surface of the water in their efforts to decide which -had ducked the other, caught hold of the stern of a -boat which happened to be near, and drawing themselves -half out of the water, grinned happily at a bevy -of plump young damsels sitting there. The girls, -laughing merrily, gave them each an orange; whereupon -they slipped back into the water and proceeded -to eat them. But the sight of these two lying placidly -on their backs and devouring their oranges was too -much for the others. Uncle Podger with his trudgeon -stroke reached the unsuspecting Rawlins first, seized -his orange, ducked him, and dived, only to come up -among the enemy—the Pimple, the Sub, and the -outraged Rawlins. The War Baby threw himself into -the mêlée; the Hun, swallowing the rest of his orange, -joined in too; and the life of Uncle Podger was only -saved by a shower of oranges, and peals of girlish -laughter from the boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Securing their prizes they shouted, "Thanks, -awfully! Merci beaucoup!" hoping that they might -understand French; and the War Baby, who knew -a few words of Spanish, called out, "Gratia! -Señoritas!" hoping they could understand that. But -language did not matter; they knew what was meant -to be expressed, and shrieked with laughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Fleet-Paymaster, puffing along by the side -of Dr. Gordon, who looked exactly like a walrus in -the water, grunted out: "We're too old, I suppose, -for 'em to chuck oranges at us? Let's try!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And they did; and each got his orange, and his -shriek of laughter when he tried to eat it without -spoiling the taste with sea water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this time the China Doll, who could only swim -a few strokes, did not venture far from the foot of the -ladder, very miserable that everybody seemed to have -forgotten him, and knowing that if he did venture out -among the others he would certainly be ducked—which -he hated—and very probably drowned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up on deck, Captain Macfarlane, grimly looking -on, met the Gunnery-Lieutenant coming up from -performing his trick of tossing a hoop off the top of -the ladder, and then diving through it as it lay on -the surface of the water—he had done this about ten -times already, as if he were carrying out some drill or -religious exercise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Gunnery-Lieutenant," Captain Macfarlane -said, tugging thoughtfully at his beard; "the Great -War is still on, is it not?" and the startled -Gunnery-Lieutenant, the hoop in one hand, the other raised -to his dripping hair in wild salute, replied: "Oh! -Yes, sir! As far as I know, sir!" and, later on, gave -it as his opinion that "the Skipper must be going off -his head".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the bugle sounded the "retire", and -everyone splashed back to the ship, the members of -the Honourable Mess going down to the half-deck, -chattering like magpies round the Pink Rat's cot -whilst they rubbed themselves down and dressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never got an orange. I do think you chaps -might have brought me one," the China Doll -squeaked, a little upset because no one had taken -any notice of him; so they chased him round the -half-deck with their wet towels, till he shrieked for mercy -and was happy again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they rushed up on deck, because the Hun and -Bubbles meant to ask those girls on board to show -them the holes made by the Smyrna shells, as some -little "return" for the oranges.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The others had "dared" them to do this; and they -would have asked them, but were too late—their boat -had paddled back to the village.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What a dinner they had that night!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The miserable little messman, for once, had risen -to the occasion, and bought potatoes, cabbages, -lettuce, and onions, and fruit—oranges and -bananas—which of course were "extras".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm jolly sorry that the other three aren't here," -Uncle Podger remarked, as he skinned his fourth -orange. "Wouldn't old Bubbles have loved them? -Wouldn't he have been pretty to watch?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On these occasions, when "extras" had been -provided, a comic scene always followed in the pantry. -In order that the messman could know who devoured -his precious "extras", and could put the names down -in his book, he had to keep a very smart "look-out" -through the sliding doors in the pantry bulkhead; and -Barnes, who hated him like poison, would block one -and then the other with his huge head and shoulders, -so that he should not see which of the "young -gen'l'men" had taken an orange or banana. As -Uncle Podger always said on such occasions: "It -was pretty to watch him and Barnes dodging each -other backwards and forwards, from side to side."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barnes would slide across one of the trap-doors, -then block up the other; across would dart the little -messman, slide back the one which had just been -closed, and peep through it. Bang would go the -other, and Barnes would be seen pushing the -messman aside, muttering "'Ere you; you're getting in -the way, you are", reaching through, and making -pretence of drawing back any dirty plates or dishes -which stood on the sideboard. And so this game -went on; whilst the Pimple and the China Doll, -keeping their eyes about them, would seize fruit at the -most favourable moment, drop the skins on someone -else's plate if possible, and if not, throw them far -under the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barnes, afterwards, when he cleared the table and -swept up the deck, would do it to a muttered -accompaniment of: "That nawsty little beggar, a-countin' -up and a-puttin' down everythink of 'is beastly -hextras. 'Umph!" (bang would go the broom against a -leg of the table). "And who eats 'em? 'Umph! the -nawsty, slimy toad. I'll learn 'im, me as what 'as a -pub of 'is own at 'ome—or 'ad, afore this 'ere war -a-started."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The days which followed were days of real delight, -never to be forgotten by the Honourable Mess, who -revelled in them and in the noiseless, peaceful nights -when they slept on the quarter-deck, and woke to slip -off their pyjamas and plunge over the side into the -transparent water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a week's time, very early one morning, up the -harbour came the grey picket-boat with the Orphan; -behind her followed Trawler No. 370 with Bubbles, -the Lamp-post, and all that was left of their beach -party.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along, you chaps!" called Uncle Podger, -waving his towel, when at last they came aboard. -"My! but you do look scarecrows! Off with your -grubby clothes and flop in. It's simply splendid!" They -did flop in; and that morning's bathe, when the -Honourable Mess was once more united, was a memorable -one, especially to the "War Baby"—the officer -of the watch—who could not make them come out of -the water until long after the regulation time, and -until the Commander had twice sent for him to know -why he didn't stop that confounded noise round the -foot of the ladder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They arranged a grand picnic next day, and hired -two of the little Greek sailing-boats which ferried -people across from one side of the harbour to the -other. They bought a basketful of oranges from the -Greek boats alongside—it was cheaper to do this than -to get them through the messman—they took a kettle -of water, tins of jam, milk, and butter, loaves of bread; -and away they went, with a merry breeze, the whole -crowd of them, the Sub, Uncle Podger, the Orphan, -Rawlins, and Bubbles in one, the Lamp-post and the -remainder in the other. They raced the two boats to -a tiny island at the mouth of the entrance of the -harbour, beached them without rubbing off much paint, -stripped, and larked in the water and out of it, on the -grass under some trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the China Doll and the Pimple were appointed -"cooks of the mess", and wandered off to collect -driftwood to make a fire on the beach, whilst the others -stretched themselves on the grass to dry themselves -until they were too hot, then plunged in again till -they were cool. By the time the fire had begun to -crackle famously the Sub, Uncle Podger, and two of -the snotties—the Lamp-post and Bubbles, who were -over eighteen years old—had found their pipes, -lighted them, and were puffing away luxuriously. -The Sub, whose heart warmed benevolently within -him, called out: "Carry on smoking, my bouncing -beauties—every mother's son of you—so long as you -aren't sick!" So off dashed the others to their clothes, -and produced the well-worn pipes which they had -brought with them, hoping that the Sub would be in -a good temper. Even the China Doll produced a -cigarette case, and made a great fuss of lighting a -"Virginian", puffing at it like a girl, then holding -it in his fingers because the smoke made his eyes -water. "No 'stinkers'! No 'gaspers' here! Phew. -What a horrible smell!" the others shouted. The -Orphan pretended to faint, Bubbles threw himself down -in the grass and groaned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I haven't any 'Gyppies'," pleaded the Assistant -Clerk. "You smoke 'stinkers' yourselves sometimes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only on board, China Doll, to drown the smell of -the gun-room, when you're in it," Bubbles gurgled. -"Get to leeward, you little stink-pot!" The Pimple -and Rawlins made a rush for him; he dodged them, -and waded into the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come back!" they shouted as they followed him. -"We're getting wet; we can't swim a stroke," and -drove him out until only his head and neck were -above the water. They made him smoke it there, -throwing clods of earth at him whenever he attempted -to take it out of his mouth to prevent his eyes watering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nice, quiet, gentlemanly lads," said Uncle Podger -from the grass. "Very pretty to watch, aren't they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Pimple—earnestly occupied in keeping the -China Doll and the "overpowering" smell of his tiny -cigarette from destroying the aroma from nine fairly -foul pipes loaded with "ship's" tobacco—and the -China Doll thus engaged, with only his head above -water, were neglecting their duty as cooks to the -Honourable Mess. The kettle was trying to lift off -its lid, and threatened to fall over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was saved just in time, and the Pimple, violently -seized by the Hun and Rawlins, escorted back to his -duties, whilst the China Doll waded out with his -cigarette damped and "dead".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub, Uncle Podger, and the Lamp-post lay -and smoked, and watched the others carrying all the -paraphernalia of tea from the two boats to a little place -under a shady tree, cutting slices of bread, and -opening the tins of milk, butter, and jam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't this an extraordinary change from ten days -ago?" said Uncle Podger presently, with a great sigh -of enjoyment. "The whole place looks as if it had -never even heard of such a thing as war."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It may look like it, Uncle, but you'd be nearer -the mark if you said that it had never really known -peace," the Lamp-post said. "Why, Mytilene, and -the other islands round about here, have seen fighting -all through history—history was made in these -parts—right away from the year one—five hundred years -before it, too, and they haven't known peace—not for -any length of time—ever since. The Phoenicians, -Athenians, Carthaginians, Romans, Persians, -Syrians, Turks, and Greeks—they've all had a "go" at -it—landed and killed the men, garrisoned the place -for a few years, till they were "booted" out or killed -by the next little lot to come along.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was only asking the Interpreter[#] this morning, -and he told me that there are villages up there" (and -the Lamp-post pointed across the harbour to the -slopes of the hills) "which are full of Turks, and they -daren't come down to the Greek villages except in -numbers and in the daylight—nor dare the Greeks go -up to them—for fear of being killed. He told me -that the Greeks and Turks are always fighting on -these islands, and on the mainland right along the -coast to Smyrna. The Greek chaps get on their -nerves; they work hard, are smarter business men, -lend money, which makes them very unpopular; and -there are so many of them in the coast towns that the -Turks are really frightened of them, so they kill them -whenever they get a comfortable opportunity and -can raise the energy. Hereditary enemies they are, -and vendettas go on just as they have done for -centuries; but the Turk has generally got an old -rifle, of sorts, so it's the Greek who gets killed in -the long run.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The </span><em class="italics small">Achates</em><span class="small"> had a Syrian interpreter on board.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"You see," went on the Lamp-post, "all the -Turkish soldiers who used to keep the peace—sometimes—in -the villages and small towns have been -withdrawn to Smyrna or the Dardanelles, and now -they are away the Turks and Greeks are at each -other's throats hammer and tongs. The Interpreter -told me that there are more than thirty thousand -refugees from the coast in Mytilene alone, and -thousands more are trying to escape before they are -killed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's why the Greeks here are giving the Turks -in the hills such a rotten time, I suppose?" the Sub -asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It rather spoils the picture," Uncle Podger said; -"I wish you hadn't told us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go, some day, and see the castle at -Mytilene," the Lamp-post suggested. "The Interpreter -says that it was started five hundred years B.C.—by -the Phoenicians or someone like them, and has been -added on to by everybody else ever since. He says -you can see some parts which are Roman and some -which the Persians built. I'm frightfully keen on -things like that," he added apologetically:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along, you chaps! Everything's ready!" -the others shouted, carrying up the kettle of boiling -water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A grand tea they had, although the Orphan upset -a good deal of the only tin of milk over himself. That -did not matter much, for they managed to save most -of it with spoons.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pass the Orphan, please," one or other would -say, "I want some more milk;" and whoever was -sitting next to him, Bubbles or Rawlins, would sing -"He's too heavy," and pretend to scrape more -milk off his bathing-suit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll and the Pimple, however, felt -that there were two things lacking to make the -picnic a complete success—sardines and some tinned -sausages to cook over the fire; but, of course—and -they sighed heavily—the gun-room store was empty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll, presently, blinked and blushed, -and suggested that they should ask the War Baby to -the next picnic. There was a shout of "He's all -right, but he doesn't belong to the gun-room—this is -a gun-room picnic."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, if he came, he might bring some sardines -and 'bangers'. I know they have some in the -ward-room—I asked their messman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a perfect marvel, China Doll; fancy thinking -all that out in your noddle!" the Pimple said -admiringly. "I votes we do ask him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Orphan, catching sight of the wet -remains of that "Virginian" cigarette lying in the -grass, pretended to faint; and when he'd been revived -by a convenient twig twirled round inside his nose, -groaned: "I'm awfully sorry, you chaps, but didn't -you notice that awful smell again," and pointed to -that unhappy cigarette end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be silly," the China Doll kept on saying, -blushing and trying to hide it; but they sent him -twenty yards along the beach, made him scrape with -his hands a hole, a foot deep, in the muddy sand, -and bury it there. "You've eaten all the oranges," -he almost "blubbed" when he returned. "My back's -all sunburnt, and my feet are tingling. I've been -treading on something which hurts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They threw some oranges at him and made him -happy, but he kept on looking at the soles of his -feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if you will tread on sea-urchins' eggs you -can't expect anything else," the Lamp-post said, -having a look at them himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lend us a knife, somebody; he's got thirty or -forty of the spikes in his feet." But the pain of -having them extracted with a pocket-knife was too much -for the Assistant Clerk; he said he'd get Dr. Gordon -to take them out when they went back to the ship. -He ate his oranges, and looked rather miserable -whilst he dressed, slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The others played the newly invented "submarine -game", standing in a ring with the water up to their -chins, their legs wide apart, and stones in their hands; -whilst the Orphan, who took the part of a submarine, -started in the middle, dived, and had not to come -to the surface before he had torpedoed somebody -by swimming between his legs. If any part of him -showed up above the surface, or he came up to -breathe, the others threw stones at him; and if he was -hit he had lost, and started again. The torpedoed -one had to change places with the "submarine"; and -when the fat Bubbles was at last torpedoed and had -to take this leading part, you can imagine that parts -of him showed very often, and he laughed so much -that he couldn't keep his head under for ten seconds -at a time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very pretty to watch," remarked Uncle Podger. -Then they all scrambled out, dried themselves in the -sun, dressed; stowed away all the tea "gear" in the -boats—the kettle, teacups, knives, spoons, and plates; -carried the China Doll down to the boat to the tune of -"John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave"; -had a search for a missing spoon; found it; shoved off, -and raced back to the ship, the losing boat's crew to -pay for the oranges.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Off you go to Dr. Gordon," the Sub told the -China Doll, "and just pretend those feet of yours -don't hurt you. If you go limping about looking like -a dying duck in a thunderstorm, you won't get the -kind of sympathy you want—not from me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That youth behaves like a little girl. He always -wants people to take notice of him and pet him. -Whatever will he be like when he grows up?" the -Sub said afterwards to Uncle Podger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A good beating twice a week would make a man -of him," advised the Clerk. "He is a good enough -little chap, but he does want beating."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll see what can be done," answered the Sub -thoughtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that time the Greek population was extremely -polite, and glad to see British Naval uniforms. -Everyone who passed took off his hat, the girls were all -smiles, and the children flocked round, holding out -flowers, though their homage was slightly diminished -by insistent demands for "one pen-ny". In fact, -they became a beastly nuisance after a while.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now you must understand that the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had not -been sent to Ieros for the purpose of providing -entertainment for the gun-room officers, but to superintend -the blockade of Smyrna. To make this blockade -effective, she had under her orders two mine-layers, -some destroyers, and some submarines. These were -always going out or coming in through the picturesque -entrance, and the submarine off duty used to make -fast alongside the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>. Naturally she proved -a great attraction to the gun-room officers, who used -to bother the lives out of the sub-lieutenants—seconds -in command—to show them round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of these, a cheery sportsman, burst out with: -"Oh, hang it all! Come along, every one of you; -four at a time, and I'll work through the whole -blooming Mess and get it over and done with."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did get it 'over', though the last four, the China -Doll among them, were rather a trial.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if," bleated the Assistant Clerk, standing on -the plates below the open conning-tower, "if you did -happen to dive when the lid was open, wouldn't the -water come in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a roar of laughter from the others (which -he wanted); but the second in command, whose -patience had not yet quite vanished, said: "Oh, -that's nothing! that often happens. We just stand -down here, puff out our cheeks, and blow up through -the conning-tower—blow very hard until someone -climbs up and puts the lid on again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that really true?" gasped the China Doll, not -quite certain whether he was being made a fool.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Much as the officers appreciated the change of scene -at Ieros, the men appreciated it still more. All except -the beach party and the boats' crews (a very small -proportion) had been cooped up in the noisy, crowded -mess-decks ever since leaving Port Said. They to -could now go ashore occasionally; twice a day they -could jump overboard and swim in the glorious, -buoyant water alongside, and once a week route -marches took place early in the morning, before the -sun became too hot. These route marches, however, -were not very popular.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You may be certain that the first time Fletcher the -stoker went ashore, he took "Kaiser Bill" with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You should have seen him nipping off the bits of -grass," he told the Orphan later on; "he did enjoy -himself, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst here, the wireless press news came each -morning, and was not reassuring, for the Germans had -commenced their advance through Galicia and into -Poland, and nothing seemed able to stop them. -News, too, from the Peninsula was bad—nearly a -thousand men had been lost when the transport </span><em class="italics">Royal -Edward</em><span> was sunk by a submarine, and another desperate -attempt to capture Krithia had failed with heavy -losses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a set-off against all these dismal tales there -were rumours of mysterious monitors on their way -out with heavy guns, of reinforcements pouring -eastwards, and of the brilliant exploits of our own -submarines above the Dardanelles, in the Sea of Marmora.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-glorious-picnic"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A Glorious Picnic</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Among the many queer characters they met at Ieros, -none was more quaint than a Mr. M'Andrew, who -appeared on the scene in a very smart, rakish little -motor yacht with two masts and a gay awning, very -reminiscent of the River Thames. Sometimes he -appeared flying the Greek flag, and bringing the -rubicund military governor of Mytilene to "protest" -against the British having done "this" or "that"; -with a cheery "Au revoir, Messieurs; à Constantinople!" -when he left the ship. At other times he flew -the red ensign, and took Captain Macfarlane and the -Commander for—as far as the gun-room knew—pleasant -little sea trips. Generally he flew no flag -at all, and had a most motley crew of picturesque -brigands with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Occasionally the yacht used to lie alongside the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and once or twice the Sub tempted -Mr. M'Andrew down into the gun-room to take a glass of -iced soda-water, of which he seemed excessively fond. -He never touched alcohol.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked like a retired bank-manager who possibly -devoted his leisure to teaching in a Sunday or -"ragged" school; he was broad and plump, and -perhaps fifty years of age—a most placid-looking -individual who always wore an old, but not shabby, blue -suit, across the ample waistcoat of which stretched -a very thick gold watch and chain. He talked very -simply—as if talking was mere waste of breath—and -his conversation was chiefly about soda-water and the -places he remembered where you could buy it cheapest. -He always carried a bunch of raisins in one of his -side-pockets, and ate them deliberately, one at a -time, whenever he was not smoking a very old briar -pipe. The Sub used to ask him to dinner or lunch, -but he would refuse. "No, thank you; I never have -meals; I just go on munching raisins, and have some -bread occasionally."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rumour had told the Honourable Mess that he was -really a daring pirate, and led forays against the Turks -in the little bays on the mainland—over against -Mytilene—though never a word could they get from him -about his adventures—about anything, in fact, except -soda-water, the merits of dried raisins, and the -unfortunate family troubles of his crew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was one old man who used to sit on the top -of the deck-house all day long without saying a word -to a soul—a shrunken old Greek with very sharp -features and black eyes which seemed to blaze from -their deep sockets in the most startling way. When -you first saw him he looked a poor, withered, feeble -old "dodderer", in spite of the Winchester rifle he -always gripped across his knees, and the two filled -bandoliers of cartridges round his waist and shoulders; -but when he turned to look at you the fierceness of -his eyes gave him a most extraordinary appearance. -Mr. M'Andrew used to take him down a loaf of -bread—provided by the gun-room—pat him on the shoulder, -and say a few words to him. "Poor old man!" -Mr. M'Andrew told them, "poor old man; he's rather -miserable. You see, he and his three sons kept a -flock of sheep on some little island near the coast, and -the Turks came along, killed his sons and the sheep, -and tried to kill him, but he managed to escape. He -knew of a crack in a rock, where he hid by day—for -three days—crawling out at night to suck the grass -and eat berries and leaves, until the Turks gave up -looking for him and went away—thought he must be -dead. I just happened to be going past there -yesterday, saw him wave, and brought him along. He -won't be really happy again until he's killed a Turk -for each of his sons; he thinks I'll give him the chance -soon, so won't leave me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But shall you?" the Honourable Mess cried with -one accord.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This really is not at all bad soda-water," -Mr. M'Andrew went on in his slow, deliberate way. "I -remember when I was in Mexico—no, it reminds me of -some I got at Haiti during the revolution, the one of -1901. As I was saying, most of my crew have had a -good deal of family trouble one way or the other. -There's that little lad who cleans the brasswork. He's -the only one left of a family of twelve—father, mother, -brothers, and sisters. He hid in the roof when the -Turks cut the throats of the others one night. He -came along here—no, I don't know how—and wants -me to let him have a rifle. Oh, those other chaps; -nice, gentle-looking fellows, aren't they? They can't -bear the Turks—more or less for the same reason! -Some of their relatives have been killed by them, or -they've been driven away from the mainland and have -nothing left of farms, or shops, or flocks, wives or -children. They just come along to me, and I lend them -some old rifles I just happen to have."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have they had a chance of using them?" the -snotties asked. "Most of them say they have killed -a Turk or two; tell me so when they come first. And -I expect they have," went on Mr. M'Andrew in his -placid voice, feeling in his pocket for another raisin, -and fumbling with the fob of his gold watch-chain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll, in fact all the gun-room officers, -spent a good deal of time watching him moving about -among the fierce, black-eyed ruffians, who sat about -the deck of the smart little motor-yacht with their -bandoliers across their shoulders, their rifles (which -Mr. M'Andrew just happened to have lent them) -gripped firmly in their hands. They cleaned these -interminably, and Mr. M'Andrew walked about and -spoke a few words to each, just as you could picture -him walking about the boys in his Ragged School in -Glasgow, distributing raisins and bread to them just -as he might have done to his boys.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day the motor-yacht towed in a clumsy, old, -local trading schooner, and anchored her abreast the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>. She turned out to be a Turkish trading -ship which had been becalmed off some Greek village. -The Greeks captured her, and had killed at least one -of her crew, for his body still lay on the deck, just at -the break of the poop.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no!" said Mr. M'Andrew, in genuine surprise, -"I had nothing to do with it. I simply found her a -derelict and towed her in here. The rest of the crew -were probably killed as well, but thrown overboard. -Oh, no! that's nothing unusual."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dead Turk was handed over to the authorities, -and this lumbering old derelict—she looked at least -fifty years old, and was probably a hundred—swung -at anchor, close to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, for some days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub had a brilliant "brain wave", and -suggested that the gun-room should commission her, one -day, for a picnic. Captain Macfarlane gave permission, -and then came the question of asking the War Baby. -Finally it was unanimously decided to do so; and—"Well", -as Bubbles said when he gave the invitation, -"if you can bring some sardines and sausages along -with you, so much the better." They asked -Mr. Meredith, the R.N.R. Lieutenant, and Dr. Gordon, -the R.N.V.R. Surgeon, and they asked the Padre too; -and, wonderful to relate, that pale-faced little man -jumped at the offer—"so long as he could smoke his -pipe all the time". The other two of course accepted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After dinner, and after considerable deliberation -and more noise, the following notice appeared on the -board in the gun-room, under the alarum-clock and -the five broken-down wrist-watches:—</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<pre class="literal-block"> -<span>NOTICE - -To-morrow, Thursday, 17th June, H.M. Schooner *What's Her -Name* will be commissioned, at 1.30 p.m. - -The following appointments have been made to her:— - -Captain ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... The Sub. -First-class Passenger ... ... ... ... Mr. Meredith. -First Lieutenant and Boatswain ... ... The Pink Rat. -Officer of Marines and Master-at-Arms The War Baby. -Surgeon and Captain of the Main-top ... Dr. Gordon. -Chaplain and Official Photographer ... The Rev. Horace Gibbons. -Paymaster and Man-of-all-Work ... ... Uncle Podger. -Captain of the Fore-top ... ... ... ... The Lamp-post. -Foretopmen ... ... ... ... ... ... ... The Hun, The Orphan, - Rawlins -Maintopmen ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Bubbles, The Pimple. -Cabin Boy ... ... ... ... ... ... ... The China Doll. -Second Cabin Boy ... ... ... ... ... Barnes. -The Ancient Mariner ... ... ... ... ... Fletcher the Stoker. -The Albatross ... ... ... ... ... ... "Kaiser Bill". - -*Uniform of the day—Pirate Rig.* - -Coloured shirt, vest, or jersey. -Trousers or shorts. -Head-dress—any old thing, as long as it's hideous.</span> -</pre> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Fletcher they asked because they thought the old -man would enjoy "a bit of an outing", and "Kaiser -Bill" was asked because Fletcher wouldn't enjoy it -without him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barnes, on reading the notice and seeing his own -appointment, growled to the messman: "What did -them young gen'l'men a-think they was a-doin' of; no, -'e wasn't a-goin' a-sailorisin' in that 'ere craft what -murder 'ad been done in, an' the blood-stain on 'er -deck an' all—not 'e;" but he changed his mind and -went aboard with the Pirate Crew, grinning like a -huge schoolboy, with his big basket of food (including -the War Baby's sardines and sausages), a bucket of -coal and wood to make a fire, a kettle, frying-pan, -and a barricoe of water. They climbed aboard, handed -up all the "gear" and their towels, and the Sub ran -a boat's ensign, which he had borrowed, up to the -main masthead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello, Doc! brought your Harley Street bag with -you, I see." Dr. Gordon laughed. "Yes," he -twinkled, "it might be useful." The little Padre, -beaming, passed aboard his camera, and climbed up -after it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To give you an idea of what this piratical crew -looked like, the Orphan wore a red tam-o'-shanter, a -yellow-and-black sweater, running "shorts", and -gymnasium shoes; and Bubbles had an old kicked-in -bowler hat on the back of his head, a green football -shirt stuffed into striped bathing drawers, and a pair -of sea-boots. He made a picturesque villain, -especially when he gripped a captured Turkish bayonet -between his teeth and gurgled at the China Doll. -Most of them started with naked Turkish bayonets -tucked into their belts; but, on Uncle Podger's advice, -the Sub sent these back in the boat which had taken -them all to the </span><em class="italics">What's Her Name</em><span>. What a funny -old-fashioned tub she was, and what stories she could -have told of all the years she had been toiling round -the coast, among the islands! Her high poop had -rails round it, some of the wooden posts beautifully -carved, but most of them of rough wood, which -showed that she had "come down in the world" in -her old age. Between the poop and the still higher -fo'c'sle was a "well" deck, with its dark blood-stain, -the foremast right amidships, and two big open -hatchways, one for'ard and one abaft the mast. Round -her fo'c'sle were more rails, some handsomely carved, -and on it was an antediluvian windlass for hoisting -the anchor. The cable was so rusted and worn that -it seemed hardly possible that she could trust to it to -ride out even the lightest of gales.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her masts—the lower masts at any rate—and the -wide-spreading foreyard were good, sound bits of -timber, but the top-masts and fore-tops'l yards looked -anything but sound, and her "standing" rigging was -so chafed and so badly "set up" that her murdered -crew must have been "past masters" in the art of -sailing her gently to prevent her masts carrying away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what about it?" the Sub asked Mr. Meredith, -with a note of anxiety in his voice. "The breeze -is blowing straight out of the harbour; if we run to -lee'ard, 'twill be too narrow there to beat back, won't -it? We'd best start beating to wind'ard, hadn't we? -Look here," he said, "this is rather out of my line; -you'd best run the show. You'd better start a mutiny -right away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Mr. Meredith had been in sailing-ships for -years, and had been Captain of a full-rigged ship -before he was thirty, what he didn't know about -sailing wasn't worth knowing. "All right," he smiled, -"I'm game;" and seizing the unresisting Sub by the -neck of his coloured jersey, hurled him to the deck -with fierce yells, and planting one foot on his chest, -roared: "Clear lower deck! I'm now the Captain of -the </span><em class="italics">What's Her Name</em><span>. Now, you dog," he hissed, -as the pirate crew "fell in", "get up and 'fall in' -among those rascals; another word and you'll walk -the plank, and your bones shall bleach on the coral -islands of the Spanish Main. Ha! ha!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The crew, overawed by his daring, and the ferocity -of his appearance in a Turkish fez, a red shirt, Sam -Browne belt, and khaki riding-breeches, gave three -cheers for the new Captain; old Fletcher, who had -put "Kaiser Bill" in a safe place where he could not -fall down the hatchways, smiled indulgently; and -Barnes, trying to enter into the spirit of the game, -grumbled in an undertone: "This 'ere 'clear lower -deck' and 'fall in' sounds too much like the real -thing," and "'e didn't see quite where the fun came in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Lamp-post and his foretopmen, the Hun, -the Orphan, and Rawlins, were sent off to clear the -jibs and slack away the tops'l gaskets up aloft, and to -learn where their proper halyards "ran"; Dr. Gordon, -the Pimple, and Bubbles went aft to get the big -spanker ready for setting; Barnes and the China -Doll were ordered to explore the little cook-house, -just under the fo'c'sle; Fletcher had strict orders to -keep alight the cigar which the Sub had brought -him, and enjoy himself at all costs, and all the others -followed Mr. Meredith up on the fo'c'sle to heave up -the cable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In five minutes after getting on board, the Orphan -and Rawlins were climbing out along the bowsprit -and jib-boom, and the Lamp-post and the Hun were -up aloft, out along the tops'l-yard, unlashing the -gaskets and having a grand time; whilst the crowd -on the fo'c'sle began levering round the old horizontal -windlass ("wild cat", Mr. Meredith told them, was -its proper name) with two long levers, like crowbars, -stuck in the holes at each end of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's have a 'chanty'," they called, and the Sub -started "We'll rant and we'll roar"; but that did not -"fit in", so Mr. Meredith gave them a very old one:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"For the times are hard, and the wages low;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Leave her, Johnny, leave her.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>Last night I heard the Old Man say,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>'Tis time for us to leave her."</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Whilst he sung the first line to a mournful dirge, -they shifted the crowbars into fresh holes, and then, -hauling aft on them, joined in the chorus: "Leave -her, Johnny, leave her"; shifted them again whilst he -chanted the third line, and pulled to "'Tis time for -us to leave her"; and each time they pulled the "wild -cat" round, the links of the old rusty cable came -creaking in through the hawse-pipe, and the metal -pawls of the "wild cat" fell, "clink-clank", into the -ratchet notches.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a minute everybody had joined in the chanty, -the Orphan and Rawlins out beyond the fo'c'sle on -the bowsprit, the Lamp-post and the Hun busy aloft, -Dr. Gordon and his "hands" aft. The China Doll, -dashing up to have one pull at the levers, chipped -in too; whilst Barnes bellowed "Leave her, Johnny, -leave her" (thinking it was something about a girl) -from inside the cook-house; and old Fletcher, busy -with his cigar, beamed at everyone through his gold -spectacles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently Mr. Meredith, leaning over the bows, -sang out: "She's 'up and down'. Heave away, my -hearties! 'Leave her, Johnny, leave her'," and ran -aft to take the wheel; the Orphan and Rawlins, -scrambling back on the fo'c'sle, hoisted the jib, and -in a few more turns of the "wild cat" the clumsy old -"tub" began to pay off before the breeze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Gordon, the Pink Rat, and the Pimple set the -spanker, hauled taut the clumsy "sheet", and the -poor old </span><em class="italics">What's Her Name</em><span> slowly pushed her way -through the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stand by aloft!" Mr. Meredith hailed the fore-top. -"Let go gaskets! Overhaul buntlines! Come down -from aloft! You on deck, there! Sheet home! Sheet -home! Haul taut lee braces! Right you are!" as, -somewhat confused and muddled, the foretopmen -managed at last to set that tops'l. "Belay all!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Meredith made a wry face. "She won't reach -to wind'ard much, Doc, with that old fore-tops'l -drawing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Haul taut your lee braces, lads! Hoist your fore -stays'l! Ease off jib sheets!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The foretopmen were having all the sport, so the -maintopmen dashed for'ard to help them; and by -the time the anchor had been catted and secured, the -</span><em class="italics">What's Her Name</em><span> was, as Mr. Meredith said, "moving -as fast as a snail and as sideways as a crab". -"We shan't get far to-day, Doc."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor did they; though what mattered that? They -were as happy as kings; the "going about" was -such fun; everybody had something to do, especially -when the Padre, the China Doll, or the War Baby -slacked off a wrong rope at the right time or a right -rope at the wrong time. It was grand fun, and old -Fletcher, sitting on the poop yarning with Uncle -Podger, thoroughly enjoyed himself; whilst from -for'ard a little column of grey smoke, and an -occasional bellow of "Leave her, Johnny, leave her", -showed that Barnes, getting tea ready, was also quite -happy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll stole aft and called up to the -Pimple, standing on the main "cross-trees", above -the spanker "jaws": "Pimple, I say, Pimple, there -are five tins of sausages. Isn't that grand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly, from for'ard, there came shrieks and -agonized yells for Fletcher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fletcher! Hurry! Come quickly! Help! Help!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan and the Hun flew up the rigging, -yelling "that 'Kaiser Bill' had broken loose, and was -attacking them"; Bubbles, bursting with laughter, -climbed the dangerously weak ratlines after them; the -Lamp-post and Rawlins swarmed up the rigging on -the other side, and even the little Padre, catching the -infection, sprang up as well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We won't come down till he's chained up. Look -at him! Careering round and snapping at -everything. Save us, Fletcher! Save us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Fletcher, smiling kindly, came along from the -poop, asking: "Where is he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There; there—near the water-butt! Do be careful! -Get at him from behind. Wave a lettuce leaf in front -of him. We've brought a lettuce in case he attacked -us. Barnes! Barnes! Bring the lettuce! 'Kaiser -Bill' has broken out!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old stoker, peering about for the tortoise, found -him just where he had left him—his legs and head -well tucked "inside"—-picked him up, placed him -inside his "jumper"; got a lettuce from Barnes, who -grunted "they young gen'l'men will be a-breaking -their blooming necks afore long, I reckon"; and went -aft again, to try and tempt the tortoise to put his head -out, and show some interest in the picnic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Padre and some of the snotties ventured -on deck, again, though most of them preferred to lie -out on the tops'l-yard, which was so frail, and its -"lifts" so badly "set up", that it bent ominously, -as did the fore-topmast itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come down off that yard!" Mr. Meredith shouted. -"Only two of you are to be there at a time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They begged him to let them set the upper tops'l, -but that yard was more like a broom-handle than -anything else.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Hun can do it; no one else. The mast is -rotten, and the yard too," Mr. Meredith shouted. -(The Hun was the lightest of all the midshipmen.) So -the others gathered in the "top" and watched -the Hun swarm up the topmast, and so out on -that tiny yard, casting off the gaskets of the tiny -sail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they dashed down on deck, before Mr. Meredith's -voice bellowed out: "Let fall upper tops'l -gaskets; overhaul your buntlines; sheet home, sheet -home. Belay all!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then came the "pipe": "Clear lower deck! All -hands 'bout ship'!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When once the ship had tacked away from the -shore, most of them made some excuse or other to -find their way aloft again or out on the bowsprit; -and though it may have looked curious to see the -</span><em class="italics">What's Her Name</em><span> slowly beating to wind'ard, -backwards and forwards, across the harbour, with -most of her crew up aloft or clinging to the bowsprit -all the time, what did anything matter? They all -enjoyed themselves hugely; those up aloft sniffing -as the fragrant odour of cooking sausages floated up -to them from the cook-house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tea-time came before they knew it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seven bells, Bos'n," Mr. Meredith called out. -The Pink Rat found an old tin and beat it. -Everybody sang out for Barnes, came down from the mast, -the bowsprit, or the poop, and rushed to help bring -aft all the luxuries.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Fletcher fidgeted and looked at the Sub.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right you are, Fletcher!" he said, knowing that -the old stoker would enjoy his tea more with Barnes -than with them; so whilst they all sat round the poop -and had a gorgeous tea—what a tea!—Barnes and -Fletcher and "Kaiser Bill" had tea by themselves -at the break of the fo'c'sle, and Bubbles, -good-natured Bubbles, steered. However, there was so -little breeze that it did not much matter whether -anybody steered or not; and Dr. Gordon, finishing his -meal quickly, relieved him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are we going to have our bathe?" Bubbles asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nowhere, my jumping Jimmy! I'm not going to -weigh that anchor again, it is too much like work; -we'll just sail about," the Sub said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When nothing but empty plates, empty tins, and -an empty teapot remained, and they were just going -to fill their pipes, Dr. Gordon at the wheel called out: -"Fetch my surgical bag, someone. I knew it would -be wanted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Hun fetched it, opened it, and inside were -three tins of pine-apple.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> splendid, sir," they shouted, as they -opened the tins and cut the pine-apples into fat slices. -"Won't these fill up odd corners?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What a grand feast that was!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then it was time to go back. The breeze had fallen -still more, so the helm was put up, sheets were eased, -the foretops'l and its little upper tops'l squared away, -and the </span><em class="italics">What's Her Name</em><span> wafted slowly back to her -anchorage, whilst everybody lay back, contentedly -smoking and thoroughly happy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They came abreast the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>; sail was taken off -her; the anchor let go; the "wild cat" whirled round -(they knew then why it was called a "wild cat"); and -there was nothing to do except pack up and stow away -everything "shipshape", and wait until the Officer of -the Watch sent the cutter across for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She came. They were taken back to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, -and the poor old </span><em class="italics">What's Her Name</em><span> left desolate. -Never could she have made a more happy voyage or -borne a merrier crew than she did that afternoon—not -in all her long life.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>They had noticed that the motor-yacht had come -in and run alongside the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> soon after they had -started on their picnic; and when they went on board, -the Officer of the Watch told the Sub that Captain -Macfarlane wanted to see him directly he had shifted -into uniform. In ten minutes he was ready, went -aft, and found the Captain in conversation with -Mr. M'Andrew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Come in!" the Captain said. "Had a -good picnic? No lives lost? Your crew seemed to -spend most of their time aloft. I was afraid that you'd -kill someone before you'd finished."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everyone all right, sir. We had a grand time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we have a job for you. Mr. M'Andrew -has brought in two refugees, escaped from a place -called Ajano, a little village, up a creek, not far from -Smyrna. They say that there is a Turkish -patrol-boat hiding up there. I want you to take the -picket-boat and "cut her out" to-morrow morning at dawn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub grinned with delight, and forgetting where -he was, burst out with: "My jumping Jimmy! what -a show!—I beg pardon, sir. I meant 'what a splendid -job.' Thank you, sir, I'd love to go;" whilst the -Captain crossed his thin knees, tugged at his beard, -and smiled at his eagerness. In ten minutes he had -given him all instructions; and the Sub, going out, -found the Orphan waiting for him outside his cabin -in a great state of excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it? What's going to happen? They're -sticking the maxim in the picket-boat, and bolting on -those shields in front of the wheel. Jarvis tells me -that they are going to fix steel plates all round the -stern-sheets as well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My perishing Orphan! What a show it's going -to be!" And the Sub pulled the Orphan inside his -cabin, shoved him down on top of the wash-stand, -and spread out the rough chart which Captain -Macfarlane had just given him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It beats the band, Sonny. We've to go out at -midnight. The motor-yacht is coming along with -us, and we have to rendezvous with the </span><em class="italics">Kennet</em><span> at -about three o'clock. She will take us to the mouth -of the creek—here," and the Sub pointed to the -creek marked on the chart. "Two refugees from the -village are coming with us to show the way in—up -we sprint—cut out a Turkish patrol-boat hiding up -there in front of the village—tow her out to the -destroyer, and bring her back—a prize. What d'you -say to that, my guzzling Orphan? What d'you say to -that for a job? Fancy catching them asleep, waking -them up, and banging them on the head if they don't -hand over their old junk quietly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or toppling them overboard," gasped the Orphan, -wild with delight. In his wildest dreams he had -never imagined such a grand adventure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, off you go. See that the boat is all right. -Oh," the Sub called, as the midshipman began to run -off, "we're to take four more 'hands'. I'll choose -'em. I've got 'em in my mind. Everybody has to -take rifle and cutlass. You'd better take a pistol, but -don't shoot me with it. That's all. I'll arrange -about the grub. Off you go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan dashed away to supervise the fitting -out of the picket-boat.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-cutting-out-expedition"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A "Cutting-out" Expedition</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Down in the picket-boat the Orphan found armourers -and blacksmiths busily fitting the additional plates all -round the stern-sheets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That'll make a snug place aft, sir," Jarvis said -sarcastically, as the midshipman climbed down into -the boat. "What's in the wind now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's 'summat' like a job," he grinned, when -he had been told; "summat like a cutting-out job -in the old days—that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The motor-yacht lay alongside the picket-boat, her -crew looking very fierce with their rifles and bandoliers -and long knives, and as though they were wildly -keen to go and slay Turks, especially so when -Mr. M'Andrew spoke a few words to each of them, and -set on fire their passionate hatred of the enemy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He brought the two refugees across to the steamboat, -and explained to them that they would have to -lie one on each side of the maxim gun-mounting in -the bows, and guide the boat in through the creek of -Ajano by pointing their hands in the direction of -the channel. One of these two the Orphan called -"the Bandit"—an oldish man in a fez, dirty white -shirt, black voluminous trousers, a black cloth wound -round his waist, blue cloth wrapped round his legs -puttee-fashion, and clumsy leather boots. He had an -honest face, which the other man had not. In fact, -the Orphan immediately dubbed this one "the Hired -Assassin". His swarthy face, glittering black eyes, -and bushy eyebrows gave him an exceedingly treacherous -appearance. He was, at any rate, a picturesque -scoundrel, with his knives sticking out of the folds of -a dirty red sash, and the sunburnt skin of his neck -and chest showing through the open, dirty shirt he -wore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are going in first," Mr. M'Andrew said, -"and, if necessary, I shall come along afterwards. I -expect that it will be difficult to keep back my chaps. -Watch that old 'grandfather man'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old Greek with the burning eyes sat under the -motor-yacht's awning, with his rifle across his knees, -and his wizened old head turning from side to side, -looking exactly like a vulture that has sighted some -likely carrion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub, coming down, sent the Orphan and -Plunky Bill aboard with the cutlasses, to have them -sharpened on the grindstone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was a grand job—with half the crew looking on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I pity the poor Turk who gets that on 'is 'napper'," -Plunky Bill grinned, as he felt, with his great -horny thumb, the new edge on one of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By eight o'clock everything had been done, so the -Orphan went down to the gun-room to get a "watch" -dinner, and ate it amidst a babel of gramophone tunes -and noisy horse-play as the Honourable Mess wound -up the day, after their joyous picnic in the </span><em class="italics">What's -Her Name</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've got a job in front of you. Come along -with me," said the Sub when he had finished. He -took him to his cabin, gave him a rug and a pillow to -lay on the deck, climbed on his bunk, and turned out -the light. "Now coil down and go to sleep," he -growled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan did sleep after a while—slept until the -sentry banged on the door and sang out: "Seven -bells just gone, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along, my jumping Orphan! Come along! -Wake up! Show a leg!" the Sub cried, turning up -the light. "Now we're off for our picnic."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They pulled on their boots, buckled their -revolver-belts round them—the Orphan feeling a funny -sensation of emptiness under his belt, just at first—and -went on deck, creeping under the hammocks in -the half-deck, and hearing Bubbles snoring luxuriously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They climbed down into the picket-boat and found -Jarvis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything ready, sir! Old Fletcher 'as just -gone up to bring down that there hanimile of 'is—the -old 'umbug. 'E'll be along in a minute. I've got -some 'ot cocoa for you two officers—down in the -cabin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alongside, in the motor-yacht, the Greeks were -coiled up asleep, and Mr. M'Andrew could be seen, -walking round in his usual ponderous way, waking -them. A little oil-lamp in her engine-room showed -the Greek engineer overhauling the motors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Bandit and the Hired Assassin, with rifles and -bandoliers, were brought across and taken down into -the forepeak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the dark gangway above them the Captain's -voice called down: "Everything ready to start?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," the Sub called back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, good luck to you! I hope you'll bring -back a prize by breakfast-time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll have a jolly good try, sir," the Sub -answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's time for you to shove off, Mr. M'Andrew," -the Captain sang out. "Good luck to you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The motor-yacht let go her ropes; there was a smell -of petrol, and a tut-tut-tut from her stern, and off she -went in the dark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That there old 'umbug ain't come back yet," -Jarvis told the Sub. But just as he was about to -send a "hand" to look for him, Fletcher came climbing down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very sorry, sir, but I can't find 'Kaiser Bill' -anywhere. The picnic must have made him so giddy -that he's started climbing over the boat deck."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bad luck, Fletcher!" the Sub said sympathetically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he did seem a bit of a mascot—as the saying goes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The old 'umbug!" snorted Jarvis. "'E ain't no -blooming mascot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, off you go! Good luck!" called the Captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shove off for'ard!" cried the Sub.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan rang "ahead" to the engine-room, -and the picket-boat followed the motor-yacht out -through the narrow, very dark channel into the open -sea. The two boats then changed places, the -picket-boat leading and the motor-yacht following, because -Mr. M'Andrew's compass could not be trusted. This -was the first time that the Orphan had ever had a -twenty-mile "run" in a picket-boat before him, and, -with no lights showing (except the tiny little glow in -the compass-box), on such a dark night it was rather -eerie work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By half-past twelve they were clear of the harbour. -In a couple of hours they expected to pick up the -destroyer </span><em class="italics">Kennet</em><span>. By twenty past three there ought -to be enough light to see a mile and a half ahead, and -by that time they hoped to be close in to the mouth of -the creek. By half-past four the job might be -over—should be finished—and they ought to be on the way -home, with the Turkish patrol-boat in tow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My jumping Orphan! It's a grand show, isn't -it?" said the Sub, swallowing some of the cocoa. -"Nothing like ship's cocoa to stand by one's -stomach."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, awed by the solemnity of the night -and the blackness and emptiness of everything, and -too excited to talk, gripped the steering-wheel and -peered into the compass-box.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A little before half-past two the black outline of a -destroyer loomed up. The signalman in the picket-boat, -Bostock—a thick-set, criminal-looking man -whom the Sub had chosen—flashed across with a -shaded lamp. The </span><em class="italics">Kennet</em><span> flashed back, stopped, and -took both boats in tow, then very slowly steamed ahead. -By a quarter-past three the coast-line became faintly -visible, with a break in it—the creek of Ajano. The -destroyer stopped, the towing hawser was cast off, and -then the Orphan knew that their time had come. How -his heart beat!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shove along in!" called the Captain of the </span><em class="italics">Kennet</em><span>, -coming aft. "I'll keep an eye on you. Get back as -soon as you can. Good luck to you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan had a glimpse of Mr. M'Andrew -fumbling with his watch-chain, and of the Greeks -springing about and fingering their rifles as though -they wanted to let them off then and there; and then -the destroyer was left behind, and he was steering -for the mouth of the little creek, with the picket-boat -throbbing and panting under him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've got your revolver? Yes, that's right. -For goodness' sake don't fire it unless you are -obliged," the Sub said in a low voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jarvis had already buckled on his cutlass. He, -too, had a revolver. The Bandit and the Hired -Assassin crept out of the forepeak and lay down on -each side of the maxim—they looked very keen on -their job. Plunky Bill went for'ard to the maxim, -opened a belt-box, and slipped the end of the belt -through the breech. The other "hands", including -Bostock the signalman and the three extra men—great -horny chaps—stirred themselves, and buckled -their cutlass-belts round them—they would probably -find these more useful than rifles, though rifles also -lay handy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd better have one of these cutlasses," the Sub -said. "Got a spare one down there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They passed up one and its belt, and he fastened it -round him, drawing the cutlass half out of the scabbard -to make certain that it would not stick. "Clumsy -things," he said, "but mighty good in a scrap; can -knock a chap's teeth down his throat with the -hilt—fine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You men all ready?" he asked. "Two of you -go for'ard, abaft the maxim. The others keep down -below the plates; and when we run alongside the -patrol-boat, and you hear me "sing out", out you -jump and give 'em 'beans'." It was almost daylight -now, and the picket-boat had entered the mouth of the -creek—some four hundred yards wide. The Bandit -and the Hired Assassin, lying with their hands -pointing straight ahead, were very excited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep your eye on them," the Sub snapped. -"Hello! there's the village; you can see it over the -land—masts there too, lots of them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everything was absolutely quiet, except for the -noise of the engines and the rush of water under the -bows. The creek began to narrow rapidly; they were -approaching a bend in it, and the two Greeks pointed -their hands over one bow, and made a hissing noise -to draw attention. "All right; we see you; don't lose -your 'wool'. Follow the 'pointer', Orphan."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He touched the wheel, the picket-boat swerved into -the channel, and the Sub rang for half speed. Five -hundred yards ahead they saw a small building -standing some fifty yards back from the bank. It -looked like a ferryman's house, or perhaps a small -toll-house. The Bandit cried out "Turko! Turko!" -but no one could be seen moving about there. He -kept pointing away to the left—away from the -toll-house—and so did the Hired Assassin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan followed the direction they indicated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're taking us mighty close to the other bank," -the Sub said anxiously, and sent Jarvis for'ard to look -out for the water shoaling. The boat was now not -fifty yards from the left bank when, just as Jarvis -threw his hand up and waved for the helm to be -"ported", she suddenly slowed, the bows gave a -heave, she pushed on for some ten feet, and then -came to a standstill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're stuck," the Sub muttered tragically, seized -a boat-hook, and sounded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Deep water ahead," Jarvis, coming aft, reported.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turko! Turko!" the Greeks whispered hoarsely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub ordered the engines full speed astern, then -full speed ahead, then astern again, but the boat did -not shift an inch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turko! Turko!" the Greeks hissed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The engines were stopped. "Everyone overboard," -the Sub sang out softly, and slid over the side -into the water, up to his waist. "It's only soft mud, -we'll push her through."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan let himself down into some sticky -mud, and all the men, except the two Greeks, Fletcher -in the stokehold, and the stoker petty officer in the -engine-room, followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now get hold of her and shove her ahead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nobody required to be told what to do; they shoved -hard, but with no result. Then the Sub made them -keep time together. "One! two! three! shove!" he -called in a low voice. "Ah! she moved then; now -another. There she goes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She glided off; the black mud swirled up under her -stern, and the crew, clinging to the life-lines, dragged -themselves on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Phew! I didn't like that," the Sub said, as the -black mud dripped off his clothes. He put the engines -"easy ahead", and the two Greeks pointed towards -the toll-house, whining "Turko, Turko," and looking -frightened. The picket-boat now headed almost -straight for the toll-house, some three hundred yards -away; and just as the Orphan caught sight of someone -moving close to it, crack went a rifle, and "ping" -came a bullet overhead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Phew! we're discovered; we must chance it now; -full speed ahead! We must hurry if there's to be a -chance of surprising that patrol-boat. Confound those -Greeks; they're pointing to the other bank, again," the -Sub said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat increased speed; one or two more -bullets came whizzing past—one hit the new plates -round the stern-sheets. Plunky Bill swung his maxim -towards the toll-house, but could see nothing to fire -at. The two Greeks squirmed on the deck, their faces -pressed against it, and their hands pointing away from -the toll-house. The head of the creek opened out; -the little white village of Ajano came into view, with -some sailing craft anchored close inshore, but never -a sign of any patrol-boat. Another minute, and they -saw that the mud-bank on which they had run ashore -was part of an island, and that, some eighty yards -farther on, a narrow channel ran between the mainland -and the end of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Port your helm!" the Sub cried, "we're getting too -close; these Greeks are terrified; we'll be ashore again -in a minute;" and hardly had he said this, before the -picket-boat pushed into something soft, her bows -came up out of the water, her stern swung round, in -towards the bank, not forty yards away, and she came -to a dead stop.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Full speed astern!" the Sub yelled; and full speed -astern went the engines, her stern shook, and the -black mud, churned up from the bottom, swirled -for'ard. But not a movement did she make.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's right in it, sir," Jarvis, rushing aft, told the -Sub; "there's not a foot of water for'ard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub jumped overboard abreast the wheel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was not two feet of water there, and he walked -round her bows, pulling his feet out of the sticky mud. -He could walk all round her except at the stern. -That last swerve she had made had turned the stern -right in to the shore, and the dark back of another -mud-bank showed not six yards away, just under the -surface of the water. He knew, perfectly well, that -she would never get off without assistance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bullets kept flicking past—Zip! Zip! Ping! Ping! -Some struck the water quite close to the boat; another -smacked against those new plates round the -stern-sheets. Someone was certain to be hit in a moment -or two; and the first was the Hired Assassin, who -got a bullet through his left arm, and scrambled aft, -behind the plates, bleeding like a pig and whimpering -with fright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The engines were still going astern, but quite -uselessly. Everybody had to scramble out; most of them -did so on the protected side, the side away from the -toll-house. "Some of you come this side," the Sub -shouted angrily; and the Orphan, Jarvis, and Plunky -Bill followed him round. "Now shove her astern! -One! two! three! Altogether—one! two! three! -Heave!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They tried a dozen times, but not an inch did she -move. It was terrible. Some bullets now began -coming from the side opposite to the toll-house, -from beyond that gap of water which separated the -island on which they were aground from the -mainland. They could see some men creeping among -some low, scrubby bushes there, and some puffs of -rifle smoke. Plunky Bill was ordered to turn the -maxim on to them, so climbed on board, swung the -gun round, and let "rip" some fifty rounds. Those -kept them quiet for a few minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If Mr. M'Andrew came in, he could tow us on," -the Orphan suggested; but the Sub, although he felt -sure that it was helpless to think of getting off without -assistance, would not signal to ask for it, not yet. He -tried making the engines go full speed ahead and then -full speed astern, the men all pushing and shoving at -the same time. Then they all climbed on board, -crowded as far aft as they could, and tried jumping, -up and down, in time, whilst the engines went full -speed astern. But you might as well have expected -to move a house. The picket-boat showed not the -slightest sign of coming off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this time some ten or twelve rifles were being -constantly fired at them from different points in the -direction of the toll-house, only about two hundred and -fifty or three hundred yards away. Some of these rifles -were evidently mausers—they recognized their sharp -crack; but several were old-fashioned ones which gave -a duller noise when they fired, and their bullets, -coming almost simultaneously with the report, made -a bigger splash when they hit the water. Also, -every now and then, little white wisps of powder -smoke drifted up from behind some of those bushes. -Those wisps were practically the only "targets" -Plunky Bill had to fire at, but occasionally he -caught sight of something creeping about among -the bushes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The shooting of these Turks was, of course, -execrable; otherwise everyone in the picket-boat must -have been killed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Soon some of those rifle "cracks" began to sound -appreciably nearer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Turks have come down to the bank, near the -toll-house," the Orphan gasped out. "I think they're -trying to creep along the bank towards us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub, wading round the bows, climbed on board -and told Bostock to signal to the </span><em class="italics">Kennet</em><span>, "Have run -aground, send motor-boat"; and whilst Bostock, -jumping on the top of the cabin, where he was entirely -exposed, wagged his semaphore flags, Plunky Bill -searched the opposite bank with his maxim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Scramble aboard, all of you!" the Sub shouted -to those still over the side. "Get down behind the -shields. Four of you, fire your rifles at the bank near -that white house, and two at those Turks beyond the -island."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They scrambled behind the cover of the plates, -picked up their rifles, and tried to find something -to aim at.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bostock now took in the reply to that signal: "Am -sending in motor-boat". The Sub, looking out to -sea, saw that the destroyer was about twelve hundred -yards away, and that the motor-yacht was at that time -alongside her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. M'Andrew will be here in a few minutes; -we'll get off all right then," he said confidently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a yell from Plunky Bill, crouched behind -the maxim-gun shield looking for a target. He put -his hand to his face, and found it covered with blood. -He cursed horribly, swung round the maxim towards -the scrub bushes beyond the island, and let off a -dozen rounds "into the brown". Splashes kept -jumping up out of the water on both sides; the cracks -of the rifles and the "ping" "flop" as the bullets -struck the side of the boat or the water, or whipped -overhead, being almost simultaneous. Within the -protecting shields round the stern, people were -practically safe. Everyone was there now except Plunky -Bill, Fletcher in the stokehold, and the man in the -engine-room. Theoretically, these last two were not -safe at such short range, though, actually, no bullets -did penetrate the sides of the picket-boat—none that -were noticed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That motor-yacht has not shoved off yet," the Sub -cried, looking over the edge of the plates. "I wonder -what has happened. Motors have broken down, I -expect. Phew! that's rotten; we'll never get off -without her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jarvis, much excited, shouted: "A lot more men -have come along to that white house, sir; they are -coming this way, but I can't see them now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ask the </span><em class="italics">Kennet</em><span> to open fire on the white house, -and to search the banks near it," the Sub told Bostock, -who jumped on top of the cabin again, and, though -bullets were "zipping" past every few moments, -made the signal quite unconcernedly, then slowly -climbed down into safety under cover of the steel -plates, grinning as he spread out one of the flags and -showed a bullet-hole in it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A minute later the destroyer's for'ard 12-pounder -fired, and a shell burst just in front of the toll-house. -Others came in quick succession, searching the banks -between it and the picket-boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rifle-fire died down at once; one or two men could -be seen crawling away. A seaman down aft fired his -rifle, and swore that he had hit one of them; the -others fired whenever they saw a chance, and so did -Plunky Bill with his maxim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The motor-boat had not yet cast off from the destroyer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a shout from Plunky Bill, and they saw -a ferry-boat crowded with men start across the creek -from the toll-house side. Two of the bluejackets -fired at this boat, and the maxim was turned on it; -but before there was time to steady it the men in the -ferry had scrambled out, and were hidden among -those thick bushes there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll be trying to wade across that gap to the -island presently," Jarvis growled. "If they do get -across, they'll be able to crawl up to within fifty yards -of the boat without us being able to touch them. Bad -show this, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Curse that motor-boat!" the Sub growled. "Why -doesn't she come along?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then came a warning shout from for'ard; and the -Orphan, looking over the edge of the shield in front -of the wheel, saw that some twenty or thirty men with -rifles were commencing to wade across the gap to the -island. At the same moment Plunky Bill fell on his -face. Without thinking, the Orphan dashed out of -his cover and ran to him; but before he reached him -he had risen to his knees, and was endeavouring to -swing his maxim round to fire on them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was streaming with blood, both from a wound -in his cheek and from another through the right -shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't hold it, sir; you take it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan's hands trembled, and his head felt as -though it were bursting; but he gripped the handles, -looked along the sights, and somehow or other got -them in line with the cluster of men who had begun -to wade across the gap, and pressed the firing-button -with all his might. Plunky Bill, with one hand, "fed" -the cartridge-belt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan did not feel the recoil nor notice the -jar on his wrists. He saw the splashes his bullets were -making, swung the muzzle of the gun a little to the -left, depressed the handles ever so little, until these -splashes flew up right among the Turks. His shaking -hands made the bullets spread from side to side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Six or seven of the men disappeared under the -water; most of the others began hurrying back to the -cover of those "scrubby" bushes, but two, three, five -pressed on, and in twenty more paces would have -gained the cover of the end of the island. Once there, -they would crawl along till they could fire right into -the picket-boat at point-blank range.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan gave a yell; something had hit his left -foot, and the pain shot up his leg; but he held on to -those handles, swung the maxim back, and pressed -the button.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A little more to the left, sir," came from Plunky -Bill. "Quick, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And how he did manage to do it he never could -explain, but those five men all fell; and it was not till -Plunky Bill called out "Cease firing, sir!" that he -looked, and saw nothing but a shapeless kind of a hat -floating on the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Got the whole bag of tricks, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're going to try again; they're gathering -behind the bushes." The Orphan looked up, and saw -the Sub standing behind him. "Steady, sonny; -wait a minute; they'll be in sight directly. That -blessed motor-boat hasn't started to shove off yet. -Ah! there they come! there they are! Now, let her 'rip'!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Orphan noticed the Sub kneel down behind -the maxim shield, on the opposite side to Plunky Bill, -who was still tending the belt with his left hand. A -bullet, then another, smacked against the little shield, -and through the sighting slit he saw a line of men -creeping towards the ford where those others had -attempted to wade across. His left foot -pained—horribly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aim low, sonny! aim low! You will see your -bullet-splashes." He pressed the firing-button, and -the gun spluttered out a dozen rounds, their splashes -jumping out of the water below the bank along which -the Turks were creeping.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, up a bit! Good! Now you've got into -them! Keep as you are!" The Sub was speaking -quite quietly as the midshipman held on to the jerking, -shaking maxim. "Now, down a bit! That's the -ticket! Splendid! Phew! they won't try that again," -the Sub said, and yelled aft for another belt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Fletcher, dragging himself up from the stokehold -hatch, ran aft, seized a new box which someone -held over the edge of the shield in front of the wheel, -brought it for'ard, knelt down and opened it. The -Sub ordered Plunky Bill to go aft. He staggered -back under the protecting plates round the -stern-sheets holding up his right arm with his left hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this time the </span><em class="italics">Kennet's</em><span> shells were bursting along -the bank on the toll-house side, and these and the -rifle-fire from the seamen in the stern-sheets kept the -Turks fairly quiet in that direction. Then Jarvis -shouted: "Here comes the </span><em class="italics">Kennet's</em><span> whaler, sir. -She's quite close. The </span><em class="italics">Kennet's</em><span> making a signal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bostock, waving his flags, took it in. "Abandon -steamboat—am sending in whaler for you." He -shouted this to the Sub.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't, I can't!" the Sub moaned. "Orphan, I -can't do it! You look after those chaps; keep your -eye on them. My aunt! your left boot's nearly torn -off. Keep them from getting across to the island;" -and he dashed aft just as the black whaler ran alongside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A Royal Naval Reserve lieutenant was in charge -of her, and called out: "You've got to abandon her. -Take everything you can get into the whaler—and -come back. It's been pretty warm work coming in -here; they've been potting at us all the way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why doesn't that motor-yacht come in? She -could tow us off. What's the matter with her?" the -Sub asked angrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Her crew won't face it; they refused to come, and -the engineer won't start the motors. He's disabled -them in some way or other, and we can't make them -work. Get your gear in here quickly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub raved and cursed. He couldn't make up -his mind to abandon the boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There came a low, sobbing "Oh" from the stern-sheets, -and the other Greek fell forward—the Bandit. -A bullet had come in through a gap between two of -the steel plates, and he had been shot through the -body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's the Captain's order," the </span><em class="italics">Kennet's</em><span> officer cried -impatiently. "You'd best hurry up; we can see any -number of men coming along from the village. None -of us will get away unless you 'get a move on.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sullenly the Sub gave the order to abandon the -picket-boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Plunky Bill crawled into the whaler; the two Greeks -were lowered into her. Everything that could be -taken was taken—the box of ball-cartridge, the -compass box, the rifles and cutlasses, signal-book, even -the first-aid bag.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, still for'ard with Fletcher, who was -reeving the new maxim belt through the feed-block, -saw more men start to wade towards the island. He -opened fire on them; but then the Sub and Jarvis -came rushing for'ard, told him to "cease fire", and -commenced dismounting the maxim, slinging out the -belt, lifting the gun and its shield off its pedestal, and -carrying it aft between them. The Orphan tried to -pick up the empty belt-box, but couldn't stand, and -had to crawl aft without it. Fletcher brought along -the almost full box, then ran back and jumped down -into the stokehold. Everyone except him was already -in the whaler. They shouted for him. He did not -come, but a black cloud of smoke belched out of the -picket-boat's funnel. Bullets were splashing all round -them. Those Turks were half across to the island—in -another five minutes they would be able to fire -right down into the crowded whaler. Another cloud -of smoke came from the funnel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He must have gone off his head," the Sub cried, -and yelled "Fletcher! Fletcher!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man appeared, dragged himself up, and -scrambled down into the boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What the devil were you doing? Shove off! -Shove off! Give way!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I put on a few shovelfuls of coal, sir, and closed -down all the valves—thought she might blow herself -up presently."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shove off! Get hold of your rifles; half of you -blaze away at one side, half of you on the other—at -anything you see!" yelled the Sub as the very heavily -laden whaler pulled away from the poor old picket-boat -and made for mid-stream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Kennet</em><span>, out beyond the mouth of the creek, -still kept up a continuous fire to cover the retreat of -the crowded whaler as it pushed along out to her, -with the picket-boat's crew blazing away at anything -they saw which looked like a man's head. She must -have seen the people wading across to the island, -for she opened fire on them from another gun, and -its shells whistled over the whaler and burst above -the bank alongside the abandoned boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, huddled down at the bottom of the -boat between two thwarts, felt sick and faint. His -left foot was quite numb. He looked at it. The toe -and front part of the sole of his boot was all ripped -up and torn, and his sock was dripping with blood. -He did not know what had happened. The two -Greeks lay under the thwarts—very silent. Fletcher, -near him, kept on saying: "If only I'd found 'Kaiser -Bill' and brought him along with us, it wouldn't -have happened."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Although a few bullets followed them, no one was -hit, and in ten minutes they were alongside the -destroyer, and the Orphan was being hoisted up the -side. They wanted to carry him, but he would not -let them; he hobbled on his left heel to the ward-room -hatch, and got down it somehow; found a chair, and -sat on it. He heard the </span><em class="italics">Kennet's</em><span> 12-pounder still -firing, and guessed what she was firing at—his beloved -picket-boat—the poor old lady. She had shared so -many adventures with him, and now was being ripped -open by the </span><em class="italics">Kennet's</em><span> shells, even if her own boiler -did not burst with the added fuel and the screwed-down -valves. It was better than that she should fall -"alive" into the hands of the Turks, and the Orphan -hoped she understood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A chief stoker belonging to the </span><em class="italics">Kennet</em><span> came along -presently, cut away his boot, and took it off (how it -did pain!), and cut away the sock. He knew how to -dress wounds, and did his work well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A bullet, sir, right along the top of the boot, then -through that toe; broken the bone, I think—it's all -'wobbly'. I've a lot of doctoring to do this morning. -That there young Greek chap has a bad smash, my -word! but I don't rightly know about the other. -Stomachs are rather beyond my 'line'. That there -seaman—he'll be all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the time the foot had been dressed, the guns had -left off firing, and the </span><em class="italics">Kennet's</em><span> engines began to -make the whole stern rattle. The Sub came down, -looking haggard, but trying to be cheerful. "We -did our best, sonny; don't bother. It was all my -fault. If we hadn't been steaming so fast, we might -have got her off. So you've got a bullet through -your foot, have you? I thought I saw the sole of the -boot all ripped off. When did that happen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just after Plunky Bill was hit the second time. -Just after I'd started firing the maxim."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you kept going, did you?" said the Sub. -"Good for you, Orphan! If you hadn't, those chaps -might have got across, and we should have been 'in -the soup' in next to no time. There wasn't a sign of -a patrol-boat there," the Sub went on. "The </span><em class="italics">Kennet's</em><span> -skipper, from her bridge, could see every square -yard of the creek. You remember how those -confounded Greeks kept pointing over to port directly -after they began singing out 'Turko', 'Turko'. So -long as they kept away from the toll-house, where -they had seen them, and gave them a wide berth, they -didn't care a 'fish's tail' what happened to the -picket-boat—never thought of the channel. That chap you -call the Hired Assassin—I expect he came along with -that 'cock and bull' yarn just to get us to go in there -and smash up the village—a girl had jilted him, or -something like that, I expect. Oh, if only that -motor-yacht had come in!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you seen Mr. M'Andrew?" the Orphan asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes! He wouldn't speak. He wouldn't look at -me. He was fumbling with his watch-chain. He -looked as if he'd been blubbing. That Greek -engineer found out what was wrong with the motors -directly everything was over. Curse the -chicken-livered swine!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did they smash her up? The Turks won't be -able to use her?" the Orphan asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, old sonny; either her boiler blew up or a -shell burst there. She's done for."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan bit his lip—hard.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There happened to be a spare cabin aboard the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and, after Dr. O'Neill had dressed the -wounded foot, the Orphan was placed in the bunk -there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The toe may have to come off, or it mayn't," -Dr. O'Neill growled. "It won't be any use to you, -whichever happens."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane came to see him, looking grave, -but smiling at him in his kind, fatherly way. "The -Sub tells me you cleared off a lot of Turks with that -maxim after you'd been hit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't really know I had been, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He tugged at his beard, and then began to talk, as -though what he had to say was not pleasant. "I -have some news for you. It will be a great -disappointment, I fear, to you, but you will understand -why I wish you to know this before the others. I -may as well tell you that I recommended the Sub -and you, in the picket-boat, and the midshipman of -the steam pinnace for the Distinguished Service -Cross."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you, sir? Really, sir!" The Orphan's heart -beat fast. "The old Hun, too, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I did. It was for taking your steamboats -in and bringing off the crippled transports' boats, after -the Lancashire Fusiliers had landed. The Sub and -the Hun, as you call him, have been granted it, but -I am very sorry indeed" (the Orphan knew what was -coming and caught his breath) "that you have not. -The Sub was in charge of your boat at the time, and -you were not. You see, that makes a difference, I -suppose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, biting his lips, nodded. He could -not trust himself to speak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane, putting his hand gently on his -shoulder, said: "Now you know how the land lies. -I only heard last night, and thought you yourself -should give the news to the other two. I hope that -will rather soften the blow. Won't it, Mr. Orpen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right, sir! Thank you very much for telling me -first, and for telling me yourself," the Orphan managed -to say. "And thank you very much for recommending -me. None of us knew anything about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, good-bye! Perhaps you'd like to tell the -news now; I'll send them along."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, in a minute or two, the Sub and the Hun -arrived.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello! my jumping Orphan! Patched you up, -have they, my wounded warrior! The Skipper says -you want to see us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You both have got the D.S.C. The Captain's -just told me. Isn't that grand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They didn't believe him for a moment. Then the -Sub, roaring like a bull, threw the Hun on the deck -and nearly strangled him. "And you? What about -you?" he sang out, letting the Hun get up; and -seeing by the Orphan's face that he had had no such -luck, became quiet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever for?" they both asked. "What did -they give it to us for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For going in and fetching the boats back from -'W' beach that first time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! that!" growled the Sub. "What a rotten -shame! You did as much as I, or the Hun, did. -That's the rottenest thing I ever heard of. Well, old -chap, I'm confoundedly sorry," said the Sub, gripping -the Orphan's arm; "confoundedly sorry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, left to himself, felt about as miserable -as he could be. Dr. Gordon came in to give him an -injection of morphia, just as Barnes came to the cabin -carrying a tray with his breakfast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which will you have for breakfast?" Dr. Gordon -asked, in his funny way—"a little morphia or some -bacon and eggs?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I'd rather have the bacon and eggs," said -the Orphan.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="bombarding-at-suvla-bay"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Bombarding at Suvla Bay</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Orphan's wound gave a great deal of trouble, -and for the next fortnight—a "precious" long -fortnight—he remained in his bunk. The Honourable -Mess looked after him, and kept up his spirits. -Captain Macfarlane occasionally came in and talked to -him, sitting with his long thin legs crossed, smoking -his inevitable cigarette, and tugging gently at his -pointed beard. He told him of the transports -pouring reinforcements into Mudros in great numbers; of -the old "Edgars" coming East, and of the newly -built monitors which had begun to arrive—big ones -with 14-inch guns, and practically unsinkable; small -ones with a 6-inch or 9.2-inch gun in the bows, and -drawing so little water, that a submarine would stand -but little chance of torpedoing them. "There is no -doubt, Mr. Orpen," he would say in his quiet, -humorous manner, "they are only waiting for you -to be on your feet again to begin a great advance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Meredith, Dr. Gordon, the little Padre, and -the cheery Fleet-Paymaster often came to see him; so -did Plunky Bill, with his face and shoulder swathed -in bandages, extremely proud of himself. "If it -wasn't for the Fleet-Surgeon a-saying they'd to be -dressed twice a day, and 'im a-poking round and -'urting somethink 'orrid, I wouldn't care a -blow—not me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fletcher brought him "Kaiser Bill" to play with. -"He brings luck, does that tortoise; if we'd only had -him with us last time, things would have been different, -sir. Well, well, the picket-boat has gone, poor -thing; but I was getting too old for her. My eyes -aren't what they were; for the last month I could -hardly read the gauge-glass in her stokehold—not -even with my spectacles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He liked to talk to the Orphan about his sons who -had been killed in France, and, what was most -unusual, could talk about them without worrying him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, the Orphan was presently allowed to -hobble about on crutches; and one morning shortly -afterwards the weekly trawler from Mudros brought -down all the gun-room stores which the messman had -ordered from Malta.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We needn't ask the War Baby to our picnics -now, need we?" the Pimple and the China Doll burst -out excitedly, as they saw the piles of sardines and -sausages, tins of biscuits, jars of bloater paste, and -all the luxuries their souls craved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the end of July the Orphan returned to duty -with a slight limp, which he kept up rather longer, -perhaps, than was absolutely necessary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The air was full of rumours once again, many of -them more ridiculous than ever; and at last, on the -7th August, came the news that nearly sixty thousand -men had been thrown ashore at Anzac, and at Suvla -to the north of it. "The new landing", stated the -message, "took the enemy partially by surprise"—and -from that the most optimistic conjectures were made.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Also came the news that E11 had sunk the </span><em class="italics">Barbarossa</em><span>, -an old German battleship bought by Turkey -some years back—sunk her in the Sea of Marmora. -You can guess what a noisy, rowdy night that was -down in the gun-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Four days later the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> received orders to -proceed to Suvla herself, and, after her six weeks of -"heavenly" rest, everyone felt greatly pleased to be -"up and doing" something again. She wound her -way out through the tortuous channel between those -beautiful green cliffs, past "Picnic" Island, and -zigzagged her way towards the Gallipoli Peninsula.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At dawn of Thursday, 12th August, she passed -through a line of trawlers patrolling between Imbros -and Samothrace islands, and presently heard once -more the booming of guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No information whatever had been received of the -actual progress and state of affairs; everyone -expected—at any rate, hoped—to find the army -established more than half-way across the Peninsula, and -still advancing; so that when Captain Macfarlane -saw a big shell bursting on the very shore itself, he -groaned: "Did you see that, Navigator? Stalemate -again, I fear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A pretty big one, that shell, sir. It may have -come from a ship anchored in The Narrows," the -Navigator suggested; but even as he did so, three -puff-balls of cotton-wool, shrapnel-bursts, appeared -against the sky, only just behind the line of the -shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That makes it certain," the Captain said very -gravely; "they can't burst shrapnel at long ranges."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A cloud of cordite smoke shot out from the side of -a cruiser at anchor there—the </span><em class="italics">Talbot</em><span>; and both of -them watched to see where the shell burst. "There -it is, sir, just in front of that village," the Navigator -called out, pointing to a village five miles inland, in a -dip in the great semicircular sweep of hills which shut -in the whole bay. "I thought they had gained those -hills," exclaimed the Captain, keenly disappointed. -"Well!"—and he sighed; "if they haven't by this -time they will never get them. This means 'finish'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A submarine net had been laid across the mouth of -Suvla Bay; and by the time the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> passed -through the narrow "gate" between the supporting -buoys, most of the Honourable Mess were gathered -on the after shelter-deck, gazing ashore at the bursting -shells, and eagerly trying to make out the state of -affairs. Even to the most unskilled of these young -officers it was evident that the Army could not have -advanced very far.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> anchored just to the south of Suvla -Point, and about twelve hundred yards from the -shore. As she swung to the breeze and the tide, -the most extraordinary-looking "freak" ship came -into view, lying close inshore, with a squat funnel, -and an enormous turret with two huge guns sticking -out of it. She looked almost as broad as she was -long, and the Honourable Mess burst out laughing -when they saw her. "That's one of the new big -monitors," Bubbles grunted. "Look! What an -extraordinary ship!"</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 65%" id="figure-67"> -<span id="look-what-an-extraordinary-ship"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""LOOK! WHAT AN EXTRAORDINARY SHIP!"" src="images/img-274.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"LOOK! WHAT AN EXTRAORDINARY SHIP!"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the </span><em class="italics">Havelock</em><span>, and farther out lay several -of the new small monitors with a single 9.2-inch gun -in the bows or a 6-inch at each end. Inside the line -of black buoys which marked the submarine net were -also some twenty transports and store ships, a collier, -a water-distilling steamer, and many trawlers. -Picket-boats, tugs, and little motor-boats dashed about the -harbour; a picket-boat towed a long string of -transports' boats out towards a hospital ship lying farther -away; but the strangest of all the craft there were -the "water-beetles", which they now saw for the first -time. These were lighters, painted black, with hinged -gangways projecting over their bows, circular shields -round their steering-wheels, and square box-shaped -structures aft, each with a small funnel projecting from -its roof, and the official number of the lighter painted, -in huge white figures, on the side. One went -grunting and thumping past, leaving a track of smoke and -a smell of burning oil behind it, carrying perhaps five -hundred soldiers inshore. Another lay alongside the -nearest store ship, and the bales of hay which they -were loading into her made her look like a huge -haystack. Another, flying a Red Cross flag, grunted -past from shore, filled with wounded. "Water-beetles" -made a most appropriate name for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The only other men-of-war at anchor inside the -"net" were the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Talbot,</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Cornwall</em><span>; but -farther down the coast, off Anzac and Gabe Tepe, -they could see their "sister" ship, the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span>, -looking very much "out in the cold" as far as -protection from submarines went, in spite of numerous -trawlers and several destroyers patrolling round her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Steamboats began to come alongside, and from -their midshipmen the Honourable Mess soon learnt -the news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One midshipman told them "that the soldiers held -the first two miles of the hill beyond Suvla Point, but -could not get on any farther". "Have they joined up -with Anzac and away to the right?" they asked. "I -don't think so—not properly. We haven't advanced -for the last two days." "I don't know how many -wounded I have taken off," said one wornout-looking -midshipman. "That's my job, and I've been at it -almost day and night for the last five days—nearly -eight thousand have been taken off altogether, I -fancy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another snotty told them of the awful shortage of -water during the first two fateful days, and how -terribly the troops had suffered. "They couldn't stand -it," he said. "It was frightfully hot, and by -Saturday afternoon (they landed at 11 p.m. on Friday night) -men were rushing down to the shore and dashing into -the sea, quite delirious."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Hun in his steam pinnace came back from a -trip ashore, with a story of two shells which had fallen -close to him. "It's like old times," he said excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was—exactly; exactly as it had been at Helles, in -front of Krithia and Achi Baba.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that morning, at every opportunity, everyone -went up on the after shelter-deck, or climbed up to the -main-top, to try and find the exact position occupied -by our troops and how far they had advanced. They -gazed through their glasses at a huge amphitheatre -extending from Suvla Point right down to Anzac—six -and a half miles away—shut in by that semi-circular -rampart of hills which barred the way to the -other side of the Peninsula and the Dardanelles. -Down at Anzac they could trace the maze of trenches -along the slopes and spurs at that end of the rampart -of hills, and could also trace the Turkish trenches on -the crest and upper slopes. At first they thought that -these last trenches were British; but they soon knew, -by watching the shells from the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span> bursting -among them, that they were not. Sweeping their -glasses to the left, they followed the ridge of hills as -it bent round in a huge curve some five miles and -a half from shore, until they came to a dip, in front -of which was Anafarta—-just such another village as -Krithia—with its white houses and its row of -windmills. At the left end of this village a tall minaret -showed up very distinctly. Sweeping still farther to -the left, the hills became higher, and then bent -towards the sea, until they reached within a mile of -Suvla Point itself as a ridge some 650 feet high. -From this point—known as the Bench Mark—the -ridge dropped in a series of shoulders, until nothing -but a gigantic backbone of almost bare rock remained -to jut out into the sea and form Suvla Point itself. -Our men had at one time reached this Bench Mark, -but had been driven back to the top of the next -depression, which they still held. In fact, from the -ship that morning the little khaki figures of our -men were very clearly seen up there on the sky-line, -two and a half miles from Suvla Point. This advanced -post was known as Jephson's Post, and on the land -side of it the scrub-covered ground sloped down in -ridges and gullies to the plain, whilst behind, and -away out of sight of the ships, it fell very abruptly to -the sea, and ended in lofty, barren cliffs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The coast-line from Suvla Point swept round in a -deep curve to another point known as Nebuchadnezzar -Point[#]—a mile and a half farther towards -Anzac—and thus made Suvla Bay. Behind -Nebuchadnezzar Point lay the little hill "Lala Baba", -some 120 feet high, and just round the corner the -shore stretched in an almost straight line right down -to Anzac.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Its actual name is Niebruniessi Point.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was the aristocratic Major of Marines, who had -been studying the military map, who pointed all these -places out to them. He pointed out the guns already -in position behind Lala Baba, and he showed them -"Chocolate Hill", another elevation some 160 feet high -and about three miles inland, where our people could -be seen busy digging trenches, and every now and -again being sprayed with shrapnel. Between these -two little hills lay a broad, flat area, looking like dry -mud. "That is the Salt Lake," the Major told them. -"It is dry all the summer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Except for the people who could be seen up at -Jephson's Post, more men moving behind a line of trenches -running down the slope from that position, and the -people digging on Chocolate Hill, the only indication -of the general line we held was to be gained by -watching where the Turkish shrapnel occasionally burst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time—the 12th August—after having seen -so much of operations ashore, every officer in the -gun-room and ward-room had become an expert military -strategist and tactician—as you can imagine; so it -was quite unnecessary for the gallant Major of -Marines—who, of course, was the leading expert of -all ("because he wore a red stripe down his trousers," -Bubbles said)—to explain that "Anafarta village must -be captured; that this was the first thing to be done".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guessed that—in once," bleated the China Doll -in an undertone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The whole success of this new operation depended -on capturing Anafarta, and the ridge behind it, by a -</span><em class="italics">coup de main</em><span>," went on the Major, as though addressing -a class at Sandhurst. "The whole situation now -demands an entire reconsideration of plans. I must -say that I feel doubtful of ultimate success unless -very heavy reinforcements arrive." Whereupon he -shut his old-fashioned telescope with a snap, and -went below, as if, from his point of view, he had -washed his hands of the matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Uncle Podger, the Sub, Bubbles, the Orphan, and -the China Doll remained to watch the ambulance -wagons slowly trailing across the Salt Lake towards -the cluster of hospital tents to the left of Lala -Baba—the First Casualty Clearing-station—at "Wounded A" -beach, and to watch the battalions in reserve enjoying -a rest under some low cliffs this side of Lala Baba, -many hundreds of men splashing merrily in the sea, -undeterred by shrapnel bursting over them at intervals.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Havelock</em><span> lay at anchor quite close to these men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I were running the show," the China Doll -suggested confidently, "I should——" But how success -could have been achieved will never be known, for -"eight bells" struck, lunch waited down in the -gun-room, and the China Doll knew the disadvantage of -a late start, so flew away like a "rigger".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Many of the gun-room officers came up again after -a hasty meal, and began examining the details of the -extraordinary </span><em class="italics">Havelock</em><span>, when, all of a sudden, a spout -of water flew up close to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello! What's that? There goes another! -Someone's having a "go" at her. Look! Look at -those two puffs of smoke amidships! She's been hit! -Ah! She's getting under way—about time too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her cable came in, and she slowly moved out of the -way, signalling that three men had been wounded. -One or two more spouts of water sprang up, but then -they let her alone, and the water spouts began -creeping towards the </span><em class="italics">Cornwall</em><span>—past her—over—back -again—short. The </span><em class="italics">Cornwall</em><span> hastily got her anchor -up, and circled away from that unpleasant spot; and -then the little shells began falling quite close to the -</span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, at anchor only some four hundred yards -away from the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Short! Short again! Hello! that hit—on her -starboard quarter! I saw it bounce off—it's close to -her ward-room! There's another! That went in! -Look! you can see the hole—close to the water-line."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look! Look! Look!" cries came from all round—it -was getting exciting now—as three shells, one -after the other, burst close to her for'ard funnel and -the smoke of them drifted away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's getting it hot. She'll be off in a minute. -Ah, she's shortening in!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They heard the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> buglers sounding "Action".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be our turn next," they laughed—a little -nervously, as the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> circled away towards the -line of submarine-net buoys; and, sure enough, in a -couple of minutes there came a loud, wailing, rushing -noise, which seemed to pass between the foremast and -next funnel, and a "flomp" as a shell fell into the -water on the other side, some sixty yards away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They ducked and went down below, but not before -another drawn-out wail ended in a "flomp" a hundred -yards short of the ship. "Action Stations" sounded, -and everyone cleared away to their quarters; the China -Doll, very pale, and not enjoying himself at all, having -to climb up the rigging to the fore-control top. He -heard a shell coming, caught his breath, clung to the -ratlines, and knew it would hit him. He heard it -"flomp" into the sea behind him; and the irritated -Gunnery-Lieutenant, coming up after him, hurried -him up the rigging with angry oaths. "Get that -range-finder uncovered. What's the range of that -village? Quick! Quick! Quick! I've got nothing -to fire at. There are no orders yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down on the foc's'le the Commander, the Bos'n, -and a few men were getting up the anchor as fast as -possible, and in five minutes off went the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Directly these four ships began moving about, the -Turks left off firing at them and threw shells at the -transports lying farther out; but these lay at the -extreme range of their guns, and that afternoon, at -any rate, they made no hits. After a while they -ceased firing, and the ships came back and anchored. -The Hun, who had been away all this time in his -steamboat, came down into the gun-room in a great -state of excitement, as a shell had fallen within ten -feet of his boat. The </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> presently signalled -that she had five men killed and fourteen wounded. -News came from the </span><em class="italics">Grafton</em><span>, out beyond Suvla, -round the northern corner, that she too had been -shelled, and had lost nine men killed and twenty -wounded—all these casualties caused by one small -shell which came down a hatchway and burst among -a crowd of men gathered there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a change, after six weeks of peace at Ieros!" -Bubbles gurgled. "I don't think much of this war. -I call it rotten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jolly uncivil of them—and our first day, too!" -Uncle Podger said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever rhymes with </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>?" asked Rawlins, -whose poetical genius had once more been roused. -"'Not afraid is,' would do, but I can't fit it in; or -'What a day 'tis'—that's jolly difficult to fit in -too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, and that -evening the reconnoitring aeroplane which flew over -from the island of Imbros—from the aerodrome at -Kephalo—reported that she had seen the Turks -digging emplacements for four big guns on the top of -the ridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, that's not very cheering," Uncle Podger -grimaced as he smoked a pipe in the Sub's cabin after -dinner. "If they can make us shift about and keep -under way with those small things, as they did this -afternoon, they'll drive us out altogether with their -big guns—and submarines will be waiting for us -there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall have to knock 'em out," the Sub said; -"that's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We couldn't do it at Helles; I don't see how we -are going to do it here," Uncle Podger said. "Did -anyone see the guns that were firing at us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub shook his head. "I don't think so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went back into the gun-room just in time to -hear the China Doll plaintively saying: "I didn't like -going up to the top one bit; a shell came very close -to me;" and the others singing out: "What does your -carcass matter? Wind up the gramophone and let's -have a noise!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A most perfect night followed, and nearly everyone -slept on deck; but hardly had they been turned off the -quarter-deck next morning, when shells began whistling -across the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and off she had to go again -to get away from them. These shells came from a -4.1-inch high-velocity gun, and gave about three -seconds "notice" before they arrived. That morning, -for the first time, the Turks turned a 5.9-inch gun on -the shore—the same calibre gun as "Gallipoli -Bill"—bursting high explosives with their tremendous roar, -abreast the ship, on what was known as "New A" -beach, a convenient little split in the rocks where most -of the boats ran in, and close to where "Kangaroo -Pier" was being built. These shells fell almost -vertically and did very little harm, but their noise was -extremely disconcerting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening the battleship </span><em class="italics">Venerable</em><span> arrived, and -next day the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> became more or less of a depot -ship for the Naval transport officers, the Harbour-master, -the surveying officers, and (as Uncle Podger -said, when their midshipmen "assistants" and the -midshipmen of all the "stray" pickets came to live in -her)—a "home for lost dogs". The gun-room was -again invaded by tired, weary snotties, in their grimy -Condy's-fluid-stained uniforms, who, when they were -not eating, lay about on the leather cushions and odd -corners, and slept. The Pimple and the China Doll -were almost reduced to tears when they thought how -the gun-room stores would disappear once more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a depressing day; they could not call the -gun-room their own. They heard of the fall of -Warsaw; nothing seemed able to stop the German -advance through Poland and Galicia; and this new -landing gave not any hope of success.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, bother it all! Stick another needle in, China -Doll, and start that rotten gramophone," they said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the mention of gramophone the Lamp-post -would always slink out of the Mess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Turks had left them alone that day—as far as -shells were concerned; but Fritz, the submarine, -evading the patrolling trawlers, let go a torpedo at -the balloon ship—the </span><em class="italics">Manica</em><span>—outside, beyond the -nets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A plaintive signal came from her that a torpedo had -passed underneath her, and a submarine had been -seen from the balloon—that yellow monstrosity -waggling above her. That meant another interval for -excitement, and a manning of the small guns in case -Fritz took it into his head to pop up his periscope -anywhere near. The balloon was hauled down, and -off went the </span><em class="italics">Manica</em><span> to seek protection behind the -"net" at Kephalo, in Imbros Island.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More shells came along on the Sunday morning, -just when the Honourable Mess, clothed only in -towels, clamoured for "next turn" at the little baths. -Again the ships had to get under way, and the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> -reported one hit, without casualties. It was a -quaint crowd of undraped young officers who gathered -behind the six inches of armour round Y1 casemate, -and waited for the "sh—sh—plonk" of the Turks' -shells to cease, and the bugle to sound the "carry on", -before they rushed back to complete their toilet. Don't -imagine that the ships took their insults "lying down". -They blazed away at where the guns were reported -to be, or where they thought they were; but as you -should know by now, it was practically impossible to -spot them; and, in time, everybody learnt that the best -thing to do was to plug a few shells into Anafarta -village (keeping clear of the Red Crescent flags which -decorated it), where one shrewdly expected that the -Turkish Head-quarters Staff and its German "pals" -had comfortable "diggings". A few shells there, -delicately placed, generally had the desired effect. -One could almost imagine the German Staff Officer -(when shells began knocking down the houses round -him) cursing: "Gott im Himmel! it's not good -enough being bothered like this. Telephone to that -confounded battery to leave 'em alone, till I've finished -my breakfast; it's not doing any good, anyway."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That Sunday afternoon our troops tried to advance -along the ridge beyond Suvla Point, and did make -some headway; but they came up against a wretched -redoubt, a thousand yards from Jephson's Post, -crammed with machine-guns, and were brought to a -standstill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Talbot</em><span> and the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> did most of the -covering work; but the Turkish trenches up there, and that -redoubt, were so protected by the folds and curvatures -of the hills that their high-velocity guns were very -ineffective.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When this business was finished, "Cuthbert", the -hostile aeroplane, came over from Maidos, and made -a "bee-line" for the balloon ship once more. As he -approached, the </span><em class="italics">Manica</em><span> commenced hauling down -the balloon and its observers, and simply screeched at -"Cuthbert" with her maxims; but the aeroplane did -not take anything seriously, plumped down two -bombs within half a mile of her—not nearer—appeared -to be perfectly content, and went home again, followed -by some very pretty shrapnel from the </span><em class="italics">Talbot</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was very heavy firing on shore on the extreme -left that night—all through the night—and by the -morning the soldiers had lost the ground they had -gained the day before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the usual "strafe" that morning, two shells hit -the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> without causing any casualties; but by -now it had become thoroughly understood that if the -ships remained where they were, and did not get up -anchor and move about, the Turks would soon leave -off shooting at them. So, from now onwards, ships -seldom shifted billet during these frequent shellings. -This may have spoilt the Turks' amusement—for it -must have been most amusing to the Turkish gunners -to see them scurrying about the harbour—but the -constant shifting became too boring altogether. The -poor old distilling ship—the </span><em class="italics">Bacchus</em><span>—and the </span><em class="italics">Ajax</em><span>, -a store ship, came in for the worst time. The Turks -had a special "down" on them both, and seldom a -day went by without them being hit, first of all with -small "stuff", and, later on, by 5.9-inch shells.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fritz put in another appearance that Monday -morning, and had another "go" at the balloon ship—the -</span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> this time—but something had gone wrong, as -before, with the "balance chamber" of his torpedo, -and it gracefully dived underneath her. However, she -hauled down the balloon in a hurry—she thought the -"balance chamber" of the next torpedo might be in -better working order—and inside the submarine net -she came, only to be driven out again by shells which -flew chirpily over the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and dropped all round -her. A lucky shot in the balloon—and "finish" -that—so up came her anchor, and she pushed across to -Kephalo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the Tuesday everyone became heartily sick of -the "retire" bugle. The Turks seemed unusually -generous that day. They shelled the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> at -half-past six; they rested until the Honourable Mess had -commenced their breakfast, when "swish—sh—sh—flomp" -went a shell just alongside, and the wretched -bugle sounded again. At ten o'clock, at half-past -twelve, and twice during the afternoon they disturbed -everyone; and when they had packed up for the day, -"Cuthbert" came along and made a most deliberate -attempt to bomb her. She circled overhead twice, -and on each occasion dropped bombs which fell with -the sounds of express trains and burst, one about a -hundred yards and the other about forty yards away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not very restful, is it?" the little Padre said -wistfully, as he joined, for the fifth time that day, the -little crowd of "idlers" who were taking cover behind -the after turret during the last spell of shelling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It wasn't. The continued strain became most -intensely wearisome, and affected a great many people -very noticeably. For more than three weeks the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had these wretched shells coming round and -over her, at intervals, practically every day. It was -the noise of them which became so trying—the noise, -and the wondering where "that one" would hit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps, in the gun-room, the most marked effect -was the smartness with which everyone "turned out" -in the morning (they slept on the quarter-deck), looked -to see if the sun had risen behind Anafarta, and -scampered down to get his bath and be dressed before those -beastly shells came round. Breakfast became a -remarkably punctual meal, for the Turks liked to have -their little joke at half-past eight; and no one in the -gun-room, except the Sub, Bubbles, and sometimes -Uncle Podger, could stay and enjoy their food if that -side of the ship swung to the shore, and the -"swish—sh—sh—flomp" of those shells came through the -scuttles in her thin side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Divisions", at half-past nine, had to be held out -of sight, in the battery, for the temptation always -proved too great for the Turks when they saw men -falling in on the quarter-deck or fo'c'sle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On one memorable occasion when, "divisions" -having been reported correct to Captain Macfarlane, -the men were all marched aft on to the quarter-deck -for prayers, the ship's company made one almighty -"duck" as a shell came over them and burst not ten -yards away in the water. If eye-witnesses speak the -truth, the only people who did not "duck" on that -occasion were Captain Macfarlane—who made the -excuse that "he had been rather deaf for the last few -days"—and the little Padre, who apologized most -profusely that he had been so busy trying to prevent -the wind blowing his surplice round his neck, that he -hadn't noticed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At any rate, after that, "divisions" and prayers were -held in the battery out of sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The people who had the most unpleasant time -were the signalmen on the fore-bridge, the -telegraphist in the "wireless" room on the shelter-deck, -and the people on watch on the quarter-deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What am I to do?" the Sub growled to Uncle -Podger one day. "Here we have half a dozen boats -round the gangways, a couple of hundred men working -about the upper deck, and along comes a jumping -Jimmy of a shell and flops fifty yards short of the -ship—then another, a hundred or a couple of hundred -over. It may be all a mistake—they may be coaxing -them along to the distilling ship—and the next may -fall a thousand yards over. How am I to know? -What am I to do? If I don't stop work and sound -the 'retire', then the next one will probably come -'splosh' into our chaps and lay half a dozen of them -out. Then what will the Commander say?—losing his -best hands perhaps; and the Skipper will want to -know why I didn't clear 'em all off the upper deck. -It's worrying; that's what it is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear chap," said Uncle Podger, "I'll tell you -exactly what I feel. When I go on deck I am certain -that those Turkish gunner chaps over there on the -hills sing out 'Hello! here comes the most valuable -clerk in the whole British Navy; any of you chaps got -a spare round to have a 'pot' at him?' I walk up and -down the quarter-deck with my ears cocked towards -the shore to hear that beastly whining swish—a shell -or two will fall in the water—those big chaps, with -their infernal thunder-clap, burst on the shore—and I -gradually find myself edging away to the hatchway, -and going down to the office or the gun-room, where -I can't hear the things so plainly. It gets on my -nerves, I can tell you that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whatever happens, the routine of the ship's work -must be carried on: the decks are scrubbed; the hands -fall in; they work about the upper deck, splicing -wires, scraping paintwork, repairing boats, overhauling -gear—all the thousand-and-one jobs which have to -be done; boats have to be called away, and go about -their business; the meat, potatoes, and bread have to -be served out; the office work has to go on just the -same; the sick have to be attended and treated; the -signalmen and upper-deck watch keepers have to keep -their watches; the men have to have their meals and -scrub the mess-decks; the cooks have to cook the ship's -company's food; and all these routine duties go on, -either without any protection whatever, in the open, -or behind a half-inch of steel which won't "look at" -a shell of any sort or description. A battleship or -cruiser is designed to fight an action which may last -for an hour or for five hours, but, at the end of that -time, life on board reverts to its ordinary routine—as -far as it may. She is not intended or designed to be -constantly under shell-fire for weeks at a time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pink Rat, whose nerves had never recovered -from his experience at "W" beach, frankly could not -stand the spells of shelling; the China Doll grew -restless and more baby-like than ever; the Pimple was -nearly as bad; the Lamp-post hated the shells perhaps -more than anyone, for he had a most vivid imagination, -but he controlled his feelings wonderfully, and -never showed the least outward sign of "nerves", -except that he became more than usually boisterous after -sunset—when all was peace. Rawlins and Bubbles -treated the whole thing as a joke. "Don't think about -'em," Bubbles gurgled to the Pink Rat, "and then -you won't worry." The Hun did not seem to trouble -so long as he had something to do in his steam -pinnace; he had to remember to live up to his D.S.C., -too. The Orphan, who felt he also had a reputation -to keep up, worried very little either.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The midshipmen in the boats and their crews had -to carry on their usual work at all times. It sounds -simple enough when talked about in a comfortable -chair at home; but just put yourself in the place of a -midshipman in a steamboat, with perhaps a lighter -in tow, who is coming off from shore and sees a shell -burst in the water fifty yards ahead of him, knows that -another will come along in a few seconds, and has to -take his boat through the swirl made by the first shell! -Or, again, he sees a ship hit, or shells falling all -round her, and has to take his boat alongside her, and, -worse still, wait alongside her. This is what these -midshipmen and their crews had constantly to do; and -when they went inshore, shells were constantly dropping -close to them, not only the small 4.1-inch, but -the big high-explosives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The strain and the long hours caused many of these -midshipmen to break down, but there was no instance -that can be brought to mind when any of them showed -the slightest sign of treating shells too "respectfully" -when on duty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Don't imagine that the ships themselves remained -idle all this time. One or other constantly fired at -known gun positions, on enemy working parties, at -convoys, at the enemy observation posts and trenches -at Anafarta—in fact, at every target they could find -or the Army point out to them. The monitors with -long-range guns fired across at the Turkish transports -and store ships anchored in The Narrows; the big ships -constantly bombarded enemy camps and depots behind -the hills, helped by spotting aeroplanes, for, of course, -they could not see where their shells fell. Destroyers -and the "Edgar" class constantly harassed the Turks -along the coast.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-army-again-comes-to-a-standstill"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Army again comes to a Standstill</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Nearly every night, for the first week after the arrival -of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> at Suvla, reinforcements poured across -from Mudros in "troop-carriers", fleet-sweepers, -destroyers, and small cruisers. Among these came the -veteran 29th Division—which had been brought up to -fair strength by constant drafts from England—and -also the 2nd Mounted Division—yeomanry who came -to fight as infantry. These yeomen were men of such -magnificent physique that the Syrian interpreter on -board the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> told the Orphan that, though the -pick of the Greek, Serbian, Bulgarian, and Turkish -armies had come frequently under his observation, he -had never seen such fine troops as these.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One more attempt was to be made to advance and, -if possible, gain possession of Anafarta.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But to reach Anafarta, and the gap in the great -semicircle of hills behind it, a whole series of smaller -slopes and ridges, spurs and shoulders of the main -hills, had to be seized first. Even without preparation -for defence they formed a tremendous obstacle, and by -this time the Turks had been digging and burrowing -and wiring them, day and night, for a whole fortnight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the main-top of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, on the 20th -August, these small ridges and slopes looked as though -a huge colony of moles had been at work on them, -and when the sun sank low over Imbros the barbed -wire in front of these "mole runs" made glittering -streaks along them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A terrible task it was, as everyone knew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, one little hill, somewhat detached from -the main line of defence, projected into the plain -towards Chocolate Hill. This was Hill 70, perhaps -better known as "Scimitar Hill" from a broad, sweeping, -burnt patch running up the near slope. If this -hill could be stormed and held, it would assist further -attacks on the main position.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 29th Division were told off to capture it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On Saturday, the 21st August, all dispositions were -completed, and a little before two o'clock in the afternoon -the four ships, the </span><em class="italics">Venerable</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Talbot</em><span>, -and </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, which had previously anchored in single -line ahead, as close to the shore as possible, bombarded -Scimitar Hill, "W" ridge beyond it, and every known -or probable enemy gun position. The Army heavy -guns assisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a very short time the Turks had to abandon -many of their trenches; and if only it had been possible -to continue bombarding until the attacking infantry -had almost reached those trenches, the 29th Division -might have stormed them without much loss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this was not possible. For one thing, the range -was too great—over four miles—to make certain of -not hitting our own troops. The ships had to cease -fire, and thus gave time for the Turks to rush back to -their trenches and bring their machine-guns along -with them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the 29th Division advanced, some thirty or forty -enemy guns opened on them with shrapnel and high -explosives; and though a brigade stormed Scimitar -Hill, its losses were so great that the remnant who -gained the crest could not hold it against the -tremendous whirlwind of fire from the higher ridges beyond -and a fierce counter-attack.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Farther along, to the right, the remainder of the -29th Division and the 11th Division, attacking the -southerly spurs of "W" ridge, gained a footing on -them, but could not reach the crest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The flat ground over which they had just advanced -with such heavy loss was thickly covered with scrub -and trees, and the high-explosive shells bursting -among them quickly set this scrub alight in several -places. These fires much hampered the rapid bringing -up of supports.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the commencement of the action, that division -of dismounted yeomanry whose physique and bearing -had so roused the admiration of all, was held in -reserve behind Lala Baba, and rested there, in full view -from the ships. At about half-past two or three -o'clock these yeomen fell in, circled round the flank -of Lala Baba, extended as they gained the open -mud-flats of the Salt Lake, and commenced to advance -across it towards Chocolate Hill. The Turkish -gunners saw them almost immediately, and burst hundreds -of shrapnel over their heads. No "gunners" could -ask for a better target than these poor fellows made, -and for twenty minutes they suffered terribly, without -any hesitation or faltering in their ranks. To those -who watched them from the main-top of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, -it was a wonderful relief when they gained the cover -of the trees and thick scrub near Chocolate Hill and -the shrapnel began to leave them alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Abreast the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and some half-mile from the -beach, was a little green mound, dignified with the -name of "Hill 10" on the military map. On the -rear slope of this, a field-gun battery had been very -active all the afternoon, and presently the Turks -thought it about time to put a stop to this. They -turned one or two 5.9-inch guns on to Hill 10, and -simply plastered it with high-explosive shells, -bursting them with their horrid, rending thunder-claps -every few seconds among the field-guns and the -limbers in rear. For half an hour those field-guns -pluckily went on firing, but they did not know where -the big shells were coming from—nobody did—so -none of the ships could help them, and at length they -were compelled to cease fire and the gunners to take -shelter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are they? New Army or Territorials?" -asked Uncle Podger. None knew; but, whoever they -were, they put up a most plucky fight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By five o'clock the smoke from the bush fires -obscured the whole field of battle between Chocolate and -Scimitar Hills, and, though the rattle of musketry -and machine-guns went on continuously, no more of -the fight could be seen from the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>—only the -ambulance wagons coming across the Salt Lake, and -the stretcher-parties clearing away the wounded yeomanry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By dusk the flames of these bush fires showed up -plainly, and as darkness fell on that fateful day they -lighted up the whole plain, Chocolate Hill and Lala -Baba standing out black against them. They burnt -fiercely, the flames eating their way along the plain, -running this way, then that; and on board ship one -could only grimly conjecture what was happening to -the helpless wounded cut off by them—and keep the -horrors of one's thoughts to oneself, if one could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fighting went on all that night; and by dawn the -attacking divisions had fallen back to their original -positions in front of Chocolate Hill, except on the -right, where the 11th Division maintained a point -some six hundred yards in advance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From that day no serious attempt was made to -advance, and the idea of forcing a way across to the -Dardanelles was for all practical purposes abandoned. -From now onwards, trench warfare commenced, and -continued until the definite abandonment of The Great -Adventure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that Saturday afternoon and all that Saturday -night a continual stream of wounded were brought -to "Wounded A" beach, attended to, and as fast as -possible sent off to hospital ships. The Hun with his -steam pinnace, and a couple of boats in tow, helped -cope with the enormous amount of work. At dawn -next morning the Orphan relieved him, and by Sunday -night very nearly six thousand wounded had been -evacuated. They all went to hospital ships, but only -the serious cases and the severe leg injuries stayed -there. The others, who could walk, crossed over the -hospital ships from one side to the other, and went -down into trawlers waiting alongside. These, when -full, steamed across to Kephalo, on Imbros Island, -and landed them there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It now became generally understood that the -Germans and Austrians intended to break through Serbia, -march across Bulgaria, and join hands with the Turks. -The Bulgarians were much more likely to assist than -resist them; and it did not require any great strain on -the mental powers of the military experts in the -gun-room to enable them to realize that, once the Turks -obtained heavy guns and an ample supply of ammunition, -they could drive us and the French off the Peninsula.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was anything but a pleasant prospect, especially -with the autumn fast approaching, and the fierce winter -gales which would make the landing of stores impossible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A peaceful three days followed this battle of the -21st August. The Turks had probably expended all -their ammunition and were busy replenishing their -magazines. At any rate, three days later they shelled -the harbour and the ships very lavishly. The -</span><em class="italics">Venerable</em><span> had a man killed and some wounded, and the -</span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> had a man wounded by a fragment of a -shell which burst on the </span><em class="italics">Venerable's</em><span> fo'c'sle. From -this date they always managed to spare the ships a -few rounds—at the usual hours—every day. They -killed an unfortunate stoker in the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> soon after -this. The crew were at "Action Stations", and he -had gone on to the mess-deck to make certain that -his fire-hose had been screwed on properly, when a -shell coming in through the side (it actually burst -on the edge of a scuttle) took off his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They then attempted a night attack on our left -flank. Firing burst out suddenly one night just after -eight o'clock, and though the Honourable Mess had -not yet reached the "pudding" stage of their dinner -they rushed up on deck to see what was happening—all -of them. That fact alone proves that the noise of -rifles, machine-guns, and shells must have been -considerable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A most brilliant spectacle this firing made. Many -young officers in the trenches, on both sides, kindly -contributed hundreds of pretty star shells; the Turks -burst a very large number of shrapnel most picturesquely; -the destroyer </span><em class="italics">Grampus</em><span>, out beyond the bay, -lighted up the ridge near the Bench Mark with her -search-light; the army field-guns did what they could -to aid the display, and the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> obliged with -four rounds of 7.5-inch shrapnel to give </span><em class="italics">éclat</em><span> to the -occasion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From a pyrotechnic point of view the scene from the -quarter-deck of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> could not have been -improved, nor could the orchestra of rifles, field-guns, -maxims, and trench bombs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the attack evidently lacked backbone. Rifle-firing -raged up and down the lines, but it never -reached the pitch of inarticulate firing and determination -which marked those night attacks at Helles. As -a matter of fact, the Turks never left their trenches; -and even before the laconic signal came from shore: -"Situation well in hand", that well-known military -expert, the China Doll, not seeing in the dark that -Captain Macfarlane happened to be standing next to -him, lisped out: "That's nothing; it's nothing like -those other shows at "W" beach; they don't mean -anything; I'm going down to finish dinner." Captain -Macfarlane thanked him very gravely: "I am much -obliged to you, Mr. Stokes" (which perhaps you -remember was the China Doll's name), "you have -relieved my anxieties immensely." The wretched -China Doll disappeared down the hatchway like a -shot rabbit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now there was a cocksure young subaltern of the -New Army at Suvla to whom the whole art of warfare -had become an open book. He claimed relationship -with the Lamp-post, and, on the strength of that, came -off at times to get a decent meal and a bath. There -was also a certain 5.9-inch gun hidden away -somewhere near Anafarta which enjoyed throwing -high-explosive shells into the "so-called" "Rest Camp", -and this young officer had suffered frequent annoyance -from them. He became a little peevish, and made -sarcastic remarks about naval gunnery not much to -the liking of the Honourable Mess, especially one day -when the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> had nearly broken her -Gunnery-Lieutenant's susceptible heart by not knocking out -this particular gun after some fifteen rounds. They -explained gently to him that the gun could not be -seen from the ships, and that, at five and a half miles, -firing at "where-it-was-thought-to-be" did not give -much chance of hitting it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One afternoon, when he happened to be aboard, a -French aeroplane, with engine troubles, planed down -to the beach beyond Lala Baba, and could not get -away. She had not been there for ten minutes when -the Turks commenced dropping shell round her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you'll see how easy it is," the Lamp-post -said ironically. "Remember, the Turks can see -that aeroplane—they can see it with the naked eye. -We can't see 'Anafarta Annie' through a telescope." Well, -they counted more than a hundred and fifty -shell—shrapnel and common—fired within the next -thirty-five minutes, and the aeroplane appeared not -to have been touched.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At least they thought the "Young Friend" might -apologize, but he only laughed: "Well, at any rate, -you Navy chaps aren't the rottenest shots in the -world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do hope 'Annie' drops one in his 'dug-out'," the -Hun said angrily, when he went ashore. "Don't you -ever ask him off again, Lamp-post, or we'll work the -gramophone at meals."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never do ask him; he comes," the Lamp-post -smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Annie", so the Observation Post nearest to Anafarta -reported, lived in a tunnel or deep gully, and -when her crew wanted to do a "hate" they ran her -out on rails, fired her, and ran her back again. It -was also said that if shells fell anywhere near her, -the crew used to run across to a little white house -about a hundred and fifty yards away, and take cover -there. So one morning the Gunnery-Lieutenant of -the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, always ready to woo a fair lady, "went" -for her; and when he thought her crew had probably -run her back into her tunnel and gone across to their -cosy little white house, he peppered that with -14-pounder shells. No one can go on with this -game—at five and a half miles—for ever; and when the -</span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> ceased firing, "Annie's" crew, appreciating the -humour of it all, ran back to her, fetched her out -(presumably), and dropped half a dozen high-explosive -shells among the mules and stacks of bully-beef boxes -above "A" beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were full of noisy humour, these Turks; but -what did jar on their nerves was the sight of a -battleship or cruiser coaling. They objected most strongly, -and always burst shrapnel over, and dropped shell -at the "coaling" ship directly the collier had come -alongside and she had commenced that dirty job.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They also had a rooted objection to the </span><em class="italics">Arno</em><span>, a -trim little destroyer attached to the General -Headquarters Staff; and whenever she anchored inside the -"net" they did their best to make her feel -uncomfortable. She might have always had the General -Head-quarters Staff on board, to judge by the -persistent way they plugged at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as for Jephson's Post, up there on the top of -the ridge, on the left, they took a positive dislike -to it and to the Naval Observation Station, just below -it. This Observation Station was manned by some -naval ratings and two naval officers—a gaunt, -hawk-like Commander and a Lieutenant-Commander -belonging to other ships. These two took duty in -turns—three days "on" and three days "off". The three -days "off" they spent on board the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, sleeping -most of the time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This post was constantly under fire from heavy and -light guns. It also received all the "overs" and the -stray bullets fired from the Turks, farther along the -ridge, at Jephson's Post and the trenches in front of -it, so it was not at all a "health" resort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The view in the early morning is charming," -said one of the Observation officers; "and but for -the fact that I'm certain there's a dead mule or a -dead 'something' among the bushes somewhere -near—has been there for the last fortnight—and that -we get something like thirty to forty shell over it -every day—often more—it wouldn't be half bad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another Naval Observation Station had been established -on Chocolate Hill, and to visit either of these -positions made exciting afternoon walks and climbs, -whenever any of the Honourable Mess ventured -ashore. On one occasion the Lamp-post and the -Orphan landed at "A West" beach one afternoon, -and walked up to the Observation Post near Jephson's -Post. Pretty hard going it was, under the hot sun -and along the sandy mule-track which wound up -the lower slopes among the concealed field-guns. -Then they had to climb along a steep path, with a -parapet on the enemy side, till they came to the -second line of trenches, and heard the intermittent -sniping close to them. In the morning the Post had -been severely shelled, and they found the Commander -lying flat on the ridge, some forty yards away from -it, behind a natural parapet of rocks, reinforced by -some sand-bags, his telephone box close to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must have had a warm time of it this morning, -sir," they said admiringly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was all right. I was here all the time. -There wouldn't have been much left of me if I had -stayed there. Come along and see." He took them -back below the ridge, climbed up to the rear of the -Post—a little three-sided affair, partly made out of -large stones and sand-bags piled on each other, partly -of natural rocks, with a timber and sand-bag roof -over it all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty untidy, isn't it, here? You can have the -base of that shell—one of this morning's little lot; -if you hunt round, you'll find another somewhere, -I expect. They keep their eye on this place; I -shouldn't wonder if they are watching us now. Let's -put back some of these rock things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The front parapet had been partially knocked down -that morning, so that the "observing" loophole was -now four or five feet wide. If they could see him -when there was only a small loophole, thought the -Lamp-post, they'll be able to see us, all right, now. -They had just finished piling up the last of the -stones and sand-bags in their old places—-more or -less—when the accustomed ears of the Commander -caught the sound of a Turkish gun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's my gun!" he cried, throwing himself down. -"Lie down. That will be short," he said coolly, as -they heard the "swish—h—h" of an approaching -shell. "Short, not very; keep down, some of the -bits may come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whump" burst the shell about thirty yards below -them, and something rattled against the parapet they -had just built up. The stinging smell of smoke came -in through the crevices.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Scoot out of it!" the Commander said, scrambling -to his feet, and taking them down to where they had -found him at first—soldiers dashing for cover all -along the ridge. "Keep close in behind those rocks," -he said, as they lay down, and he peered out between -his sand-bags.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought so. The same two old guns, on the -far side of the 'Rectory Field'. They've shifted 'em -since the morning. They've fired again. They keep -those two especially for my benefit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whump" burst a shell, then another, up along -the ridge, somewhere close to the Observation Post, -whilst the hawk-like Commander rapidly took "angles" -with his sextant, and examined the squares and dots -on his military map.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he rang up the Naval Observation Post, and -giving them the new position of the guns told them -to ask </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> to try a few rounds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep down!" he sang out to the two boys. -"Snuggle up to those rocks. Those chaps sometimes -try lower down the slope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the next quarter of an hour some fifteen or -sixteen shells burst close to the old Observation Post, -and the Orphan wriggled to a place where he could -look down, across the harbour, to where the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, -</span><em class="italics">Venerable</em><span>, and </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> lay. They did look -small.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello! there goes one from the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>," he -cried, and wriggled farther round to see if its shell -went anywhere near those guns that had been firing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twenty yards short—good shot!" the Commander -sang out. "They'll fire another, if either of the guns -are loaded—— Yes—there they go—keep down! -Then they'll pack up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"B-r-r—whomp" burst a shell, just as the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> -fired again, and they watched for her shell to burst. -"I believe that's a hit; if it wasn't, it was jolly close. -Go up and see what damage they have done; it's -perfectly safe now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two midshipmen scrambled to their feet and -made their way up to the old Observation Post, whilst -the Commander busied himself with the telephone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My aunt! Look, Lampy!" sang out the Orphan, -who reached it first. "Jolly lucky that we didn't -stay!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had a difficulty in crawling in, because two -of the balks of timber had been blown down at one -end. All those stones and sand-bags they had -replaced twenty minutes ago lay scattered on the -ground—some outside among the bushes, others -inside. In one torn and half-emptied sand-bag they -found the fuse of the shell which had apparently done -the damage. It was still warm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, look! there's your stick! You must have left -it. Look! That will be a bit of a curio, won't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It isn't mine; it's the Pink Rat's," the Lamp-post -grinned, as he picked up the two pieces. "I wish it -had been mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They took the broken pieces and went back to the -Commander. "They've knocked it about no end, -sir. It's lucky we didn't stay there. You'll have to -give it up, won't you, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh no! rather not. I shall use it again to-morrow; -but I shan't touch it—leave it just as it is. Probably -I'll put some sand-bags here, where they can see -them, and let them pot at this place instead. Come -along, we'll give you a drop of tea, down in my -'dug-out'. The </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> has finished firing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did she hit either of them?" they asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Went jolly close," he said. "I rather fancy -she did hit one, but it's very difficult to say for -certain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Commander's "dug-out" was some fifty yards -below the crest of the ridge, and out of sight of Suvla -Bay and the plain of Anafarta. From it the Lamp-post -looked over the Gulf of Zeros, the Bulgarian and -Turkish coast-lines, and, on the left, the lofty island -of Samothrace, rearing its crest above the clouds. -Down in the sea at his feet—some five hundred feet -below him—the </span><em class="italics">Grampus</em><span>, destroyer, steamed slowly -along to protect the extreme left flank of the army, -which extended from behind Jephson's Post to the -actual beach. Beyond her, either the </span><em class="italics">Grafton</em><span> or the -</span><em class="italics">Theseus</em><span> came slowly along towards Suvla Point, -pushing through the glittering water. Trawlers and -drifters, with their reddish-brown mizzen-sails giving -a peaceful and home-like appearance to the beautiful -view, patrolled very, very slowly the stretches of the -Gulf between Samothrace and the Peninsula.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From this "dug-out" the ground sloped very -abruptly to the sea, its surface composed of scattered -rocks interspersed with coarse bushes. The bivouacs -of the brigade in reserve were here, and hundreds of -men lay about smoking, talking, and mending their -clothes, or fast asleep. Bathing parties went down to -the sea, chattering noisily, or scrambled back, half -naked, to dry themselves in the sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the two snotties drank their tea, two men on -stretchers were carried past, on their way to a -Dressing Station, a little way below and to the left. One -man smoked a cigarette and looked quite cheery; the -head of the other lay back oddly on the stretcher, with -that horrid grey colour on his face—he was dead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have another cup of tea? I'm sorry there's no -cake," the Commander said. "Those infernal snipers -get some fifteen or twenty of our chaps up here every -day. They paint themselves green—their hands and -faces—dress up in green clothes, or fix themselves up -in twigs and leaves. They're plucky chaps, I must say. -We found one chap, down in the plain, the other day, -over there"—and he jerked his thumb up the ridge -towards Anafarta—"we found him half a mile inside -our lines, up a tree, lashed to a branch. One of our -chaps happened to be walking back from the trenches, -and walked right under the tree; thought he heard -a noise, looked up and saw him. Luckily he had his -rifle, so he shot him, but had to climb the tree and -cut him clear before the body fell to the ground. On -one side of that Turk hung a basket with a few figs -in it, and on the other side a basket full of cartridge -cases. Most of them were empty, so that he must -have had a pretty good 'run' for his money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A messenger came to say that the Turks were -commencing their usual evening "hate" on the beaches -and ships. "Well, you'd better get along back," he -said. "Now, don't play the fool. For the first few -hundred yards past the Observation Post you will be -in full view of their firing-trench along the ridge; so -don't loiter. I must be off to see whether any of those -guns have shifted since yesterday. Good-bye!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So back they went, with the base of one shell, the -fuse of another, and that broken stick belonging to -the Pink Rat. As they neared the beach, big shells -kept dropping on it, so they waited a little while -before going down to "A West". A friendly -A.S.C. sergeant invited them into his roomy "dug-out"; and -luckily they did go in, for shrapnel began bursting -very close, and an empty case buried itself in some -ground between two lines of mules, not twenty yards away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Flies had been bad up in the Commander's "dug-out". -Here they were ten times worse—worse even -than they had been before they left "W" beach at -Cape Helles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having added to their trophies that empty shrapnel -case (the A.S.C. sergeant had sent across a couple of -Indians belonging to his transport column to dig -it up), and the firing having ceased, they presently -found themselves in the Hun's steam pinnace, on -their way off to the ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can imagine that these two young officers had -a good deal to talk about when they did get on board. -Neither of them had much chance of going ashore, -because, after the first few days, so many of the -original midshipmen of the "stray" boats broke -down and had to be sent back to their ships, that -they were almost constantly employed in steam-boats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were the "night patrols", when they steamed, -up and down, along the line of submarine-net buoys, -from sunset to sunrise—fearfully tedious and -monotonous work, only enlivened by the very occasional -submarine "scares". Some trawler or drifter—out -beyond—would think she had seen one, and fire two -Very's lights; and then there would be a hustle and -a bustle, and the patrolling picket-boats with their -maxims would dash up and down, in case Fritz -came along, and they could get a shot at his -periscope. For some days the Orphan had to take charge -of the Harbour-master's picket-boat, and used to -spend most of his nights outside the nets, often in a -lumpy, unpleasant sea, meeting troop-carriers coming -across with reinforcements, or store ships—all -according to programme—and imploring their Captains to -go </span><em class="italics">between</em><span> the two lights on the buoys at the -submarine-net "gate"; not that the troop-carriers ever -made mistakes—they had had too much practice—but -some of these store ships seemed incapable of -coming in without fouling the net, picking up some -of it with their screws, and giving twenty-four hours' -work hacking it clear and then repairing it. Most -of the daylight hours during that time the Orphan -spent in sleep, but not all by a long chalk, for things -were always going wrong with a line of lighters -supporting some borrowed torpedo-nets, and the -Harbour-master was always wanting to go along and see what -could be done. As these lighters were constantly -being shelled, this was a most unpleasant job.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One evening, after snatching a couple of hours' -sleep, he found that a 3-pounder gun had been -mounted in the bows of his boat, and the usual maxim -taken away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello!" he said to the coxswain. "What's this for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I fancy we're going to hunt for Fritz to-night, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, has he been round to-day?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He fired a torpedo at the </span><em class="italics">Jonquil</em><span> this afternoon, -sir; somewhere round the left flank, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the Orphan climbed on board to find out -more news, he ran across the Sub on the quarterdeck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello, my jumping Jimmy! I was looking for -you. We've got to go away to-night and see if -Fritz goes to sleep in Ejelmar Bay—about seven -miles along the coast, round Suvla Point. He's been -making a nuisance of himself again. What kind of a -coxswain have you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not particularly good," the Orphan said. "He's -not very fond of shells."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hum! I suppose we can't change him," the Sub -said, scratching his head. "I've got Bowditch, the -gunner's mate, coming along to run the 3-pounder, -so that will be all right." Then, bursting with -excitement, he thumped the Orphan's chest. "My -perishing Orphan! Just fancy if we bag a submarine!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Promotion for you, too," grinned the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hadn't thought of that," beamed the Sub. -"Wouldn't that be grand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were interrupted by a signalman running aft. -"Hostile aeroplane, sir!" he called out. The "guard -call" sounded, and the marines began tumbling up -the hatchways with their rifles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was "Cuthbert", the aeroplane, coming along -for his evening visit; but this time he was not -bothering his head about the ships at Suvla, but flew past -at a great height, evidently off to Kephalo, in Imbros -Island, twelve miles across the water, to try and drop -a bomb on the aerodromes there, or on the General -Headquarters Camp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We aren't going away until nearly midnight," -the Sub said, as they watched "Cuthbert" growing -smaller and smaller. Suddenly there was a shout of -"Hello! One of ours is after him! Look! He's -heading him off!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sure enough, they saw another dot against the blue -sky rapidly closing "Cuthbert", who had evidently -seen him and swerved to the right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As far as they could see, the English aeroplane was -the higher of the two, though a long distance separated -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello! Look there! He's coming back! Look! -He's dropped his bombs" (two spouts of water flew up -on the sea). "He'll get away now!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the weight of the bombs "off" him, "Cuthbert" -came back very fast, and presently the English -machine gave up the long, stern chase and turned -back to Kephalo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, they stopped him dropping bombs there," -the Orphan grinned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just before midnight—pitch-dark it was—the Sub, -the Orphan, and Bowditch, the gunner's mate, -climbed down into the picket-boat and pushed off. -They steamed outside, turned to the right, and, half -an hour later, met the </span><em class="italics">Grampus</em><span> destroyer—the -left-flank-guard destroyer—who piloted them along the -coast-line for some seven miles. Then she stopped. -Her skipper shouted across, through a megaphone: -"We're right opposite it now. Off you go. I'll wait -for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In they went—very slowly, to prevent making a -noise, and so as not to bump anything in the -dark—eventually finding themselves in a bay, with high -cliffs all round it. Here the darkness was more -intense than ever, and all was absolutely silent. They -"felt" round the cliffs at one side, going dead slow, -but not a trace of Fritz could they find. Then they -pushed across to the opposite cliff, where there was a -lighter patch—probably a break in the cliffs—and just -as they had searched this other side, a most startling -crackling of musketry burst out from the direction of -that lighter patch, and bullets fairly hummed round -their ears. The coxswain put his helm hard over as -the Sub roared for the engines to go full speed ahead, -and the picket-boat naturally began turning a circle, -and would have headed for the foot of the cliffs in a -moment or two, had not the Orphan swung the helm -back again. The Sub, coming back from the bows, -where he and Bowditch had been "standing by" the -3-pounder and looking for Fritz, took the wheel from -him, and steered out into the open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My! but that was warm," the Sub said, drawing -a deep breath. "That was the hottest bit of fire I've -had yet; it beats Ajano. I've never heard so many -bullets at the same time. Phew! One lucky shot, -and the boat might have been disabled."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We don't have much luck, do we?" the Orphan -said, when he had recovered his normal state of mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, we don't. Still, there wasn't a submarine -there—of that I'm certain. We were sent to find that -out—so never mind. Phew! That was hotter than -I liked it—it was. I can't think how they missed us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Grampus</em><span> escorted the picket-boat back to Suvla -Point, and just after the sun had risen and the hands -had been turned out, she ran under the stern of the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and the Sub and the Orphan climbed up the -"jumping-ladder".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post, with a relief crew, stood waiting to -take over the picket-boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No luck, Lampy; nothing doing," the Orphan -said. But his pal was too interested watching the -colour effect of the sunrise on the mountain top of -Samothrace—to the right of Imbros—and made the -tired Orphan look at it too. "Bother old Samothrace, -Lampy! I want something to eat. I hope -they won't start shelling </span><em class="italics">us</em><span>" (a big shell had just -burst on the beach, opposite the ship) "till I've had -a bath and my breakfast. Where are you going?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They ran a lighter ashore at 'C' beach last -night, and I've to go and clear her, and try to get -her off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"C" beach was round Nebuchadnezzar Point, out -of sight behind Lala Baba, and the Turks shelled -most things that went there—at any odd hour of the -day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor old Lampy! They'll start shelling you -directly you go there—they did me yesterday. -Bath—breakfast—sleep—that's what I'm going to do. -Nighty! Nighty!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Swish-sh-sh—flom-p" went a shell, half-way -between the distilling ship and the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"R-r-r-omp" burst a high explosive on the beach. -Another shell, falling into the water close to the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, burst, and the smoke drifted along the -surface to her bows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bugler! Bugler! Sound the 'Retire'!" sang out -Mr. Meredith, on watch. "Get away in that boat of -yours," he told the Lamp-post, as the old crew came -up the jumping-ladder, and the relief crew waited to -take their place. "Coal and water her when this -'show's' finished."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good luck to 'C' beach and the lighter, old -Lampy! Don't duck when they come along. Nighty! -Nighty!" the Orphan called out to him, and went -below, as another wailing swish sighed through the air -over the ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Outside X2 casemate the China Doll leant against -the thin armour, with his sponge and soap in his -hand and a towel round him. "Where are those -horrid shell dropping? Anywhere near us?" he asked, -blinking his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pink Rat, inside the casemate, looked very -miserable. "Any luck, Orphan?" he asked nervously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going to 'bag' your baths. I'm so sleepy I -can't wait till these silly old Turks have finished," the -Orphan said, and sang out for Barnes to get him a -cup of tea.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was now four weeks since the night of the Suvla -landing, and, as you have heard, flies were more of a -plague on shore than they had been when the </span><em class="italics">Achates'</em><span> -midshipmen left "W" beach. They swarmed on -board the ships. Bubbles declared that you could -see them sitting along the gunwales of every boat -that came off from the beach, and that directly it got -alongside they flew on board and made themselves at -home. The Honourable Mess presented the China -Doll with a "swatter", and made him spend most of -his waking hours killing flies in the gun-room, but -the more he killed the more flew in through the scuttles -or from the mess-deck. Both in the ward-room and -the gun-room the noise of the fly "swatters" went on -continuously all through the daylight hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dysentery commenced to rage throughout the Army; -and whether the flies brought it off from shore or -whether they did not, dysentery commenced to break -out among the ships' companies, especially among -those men who worked in boats, or those living -ashore—signalmen and beach-party men—all who were -frequently in contact with the soldiers. The Pink Rat, -grown visibly thinner, and the Hun both went on the -sick-list. They lay in cots on the half-deck, but had -often to turn out and get behind the armour, on one -or other of the casemates, when the Turks' shells began -whistling over the skylight above them. They lived -chiefly on condensed milk—"poor brutes", as the -China Doll said sympathetically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So many of those "stray" snotties who had lodged -in the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had by now been sent back to their own -ships, ill, that the Honourable Mess had the gun-room -almost to themselves again. Nor had those precious -stores been seriously raided this time, so they had no -real grievance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> herself received orders to return -to Mudros to coal and "rest"; and on the 6th -September she slipped out through the submarine "gate" -after dark, left the twinkling camp-fires of Suvla -behind her, and steamed through the double row of -submarine nets at Mudros early next morning.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="hard-work-at-mudros"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Hard Work at Mudros</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had not been at Mudros for nearly three -months and a half, and during this period the -appearance of the shores on either side of the harbour had -changed very greatly indeed. Where, previously, fifty -tents or marquees had stood, there were now -thousands—multitudes of them—the French on the east, -the British on the west side. The French, anticipating -a winter campaign, had already built rows of -wooden barrack-huts; the British had begun to do so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Stone and brick buildings for offices, workshops, -and store-houses, a narrow-gauge railway with -petrol-driven engines, electric generating stations, half a -dozen substantial piers, and miles and miles of -roads—all had been built since the end of April. In the -harbour itself lay more transports, store ships, colliers, -oil ships, and water-tank ships than before the first -landing. A line of French battleships faced a line of -British. Monitors big and monitors little, cruisers, -scouts, and sloops off duty, coaled, provisioned, and -rested prior to returning to their bombarding or -submarine-hunting jobs. Up in a corner, near Mudros -West, and opposite Turkish Pier, lay the </span><em class="italics">Blenheim</em><span>, -the mother ship of destroyers, surrounded by those -of her children off duty. At another part of the -harbour the submarines, resting after having come -down from the Sea of Marmora through the nets -across the Dardanelles, or preparing calmly to go up -there again, nestled alongside the </span><em class="italics">Adamant</em><span>. Two -or three white hospital ships were at anchor inside -the harbour; eight or nine out beyond the nets at -the entrance. Among all these puffed and snorted a -great number of motor-lighters, the "water-beetles"—doing -all the work of moving troops and stores, and -doing it marvellously well. In fact, it is difficult to -imagine how the work would have gone on without them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first day of her "rest" the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> coaled, and -on the second took in provisions from the little </span><em class="italics">Dago</em><span>. -This little steamer ran between Malta and Mudros -with frozen meat and vegetables for the fleet. She -also at times brought the private stores ordered by -the gun-room messman, so that the Honourable Mess -had a warm spot in their hearts for her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That week's rest extended for nearly two months -and a half. During this time, so many of the officers -and men were employed away from the ship that the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> became immobilized, and did not take her -turn for "guard" duties or as "emergency" ship. -Every morning sometimes as many as two hundred -and fifty of her men were called for by the "water-beetles", -and taken away to coal leviathan transports, -or to dig up rubble and load it into some steamers -which were being prepared to be sunk as breakwaters -off the various beaches on the Peninsula. The big -steamer </span><em class="italics">Oruba</em><span> presently arrived, and the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had -the job of dismantling her and preparing her to be -sunk at Kephalo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those coaling jobs did not appeal to the snotties, -though even they had their compensations, as the -Orphan proved when he came back from coaling the -</span><em class="italics">Mauretania</em><span> for three whole days, dirty and tired, but -with tales of pleasant meals on board her, and hugely -proud because he had managed to buy two boxes of -kippers and one of haddock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a whole week, each of the Honourable Mess had -a kipper or a haddock for breakfast, and Bubbles -considered that "it wasn't such a rotten war after all".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pink Rat about this time finally broke down, -and had to be sent to the naval hospital ship </span><em class="italics">Soudan</em><span> -with a recurrence of his old "W beach" dysentery. -He never rejoined the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and on the broad -shoulders of Bubbles devolved his light duties as -"senior snotty".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Flies were troublesome, but not so bad as at Suvla, -and the weather remained gloriously fine until the end -of October.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every evening after "seven-bell" tea, whenever it -was possible to obtain a boat—a whaler or a gig—as -many of the Honourable Mess as could get away -would pull or sail down to the harbour entrance, land, -cross over a narrow neck of land near the wireless -station, and bathe in a delightful little cove; -afterwards they would kick a football about on some level -ground there, and sail or pull back with grand appetites -for dinner. Why the China Doll was never drowned -on those expeditions it is difficult to explain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two football grounds had been made, quite close to -this "wireless" station, and the use of them was given -to each ship in turn—two matches a day on each. -So, often the ward-room and gun-room combined to -play the officers of other ships; often, too, the men -arranged matches between different parts of the -ship—Bubbles and his fo'c'sle men—the Orphan and the -Sub with their foretop men—the War Baby and his -marines—the Lamp-post and Rawlins with their -quarter-deck men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Many good games they had, and if only there had -been any cheering news, this period would have been -a very pleasant one. But nothing went well -anywhere. The great "push" in Flanders and France -had come to a full stop; the Russians only just -managed to keep the Germans from advancing—in -fact, but for the approach of winter, people wondered -whether they could keep them out of Petrograd (no -one could get used to that name), and whilst the -Germans and Austrians swept across the Danube into -Serbia, the Bulgarians poured across the eastern -frontier. Troops in thousands, French and British, -had been rushed across to Salonica, but Greece still -"sat on the fence"; she would not help, and the -French and British arrived too late to prevent Serbia -being overwhelmed. No attempt had been made on -the Peninsula to advance; and dysentery raged in the -army—thousands of cases being taken away every -week. The number of German submarines in the -Mediterranean had become more numerous, and the -area to patrol with trawlers, destroyers, scouts, and -sloops was so vast that the difficulties of suppressing -them grew enormously. One thing alone was satisfactory: -enough stores had been landed on the various -beaches to maintain the army there, at a "pinch", -for six weeks—long enough to tide over any probable -period of bad weather, when landing might be impossible. -There was also a certain satisfaction in seeing -the constant stream of ships which came in through -the harbour entrance every morning, and to know -that they had safely run the gauntlet of the -submarines; but everyone realized that "The Great -Adventure" had failed, and that to maintain the army in -its present precarious footing on the Peninsula was -causing an immense drain on the resources of British -shipping, without any apparent disadvantage to the -enemy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One bright spot cheered everyone—the deeds of our -own submarines in the Sea of Marmora. But for -them, the prestige of the Allies in the East would -have fallen to a very low ebb at that time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the middle of October "all white" uniform -changed to "all blue", and this marked the -commencement of cooler weather.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Kitchener arrived early in November, -inspected all the army "positions", and went away -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Till his coming, there had been some speculations -as to the possibility of evacuating the Peninsula; but -the extraordinary difficulties of this operation had -been so evident, that those two military experts, the -China Doll and the Pimple, had long since decided -that it could not be accomplished without tremendous -loss of life, a huge number of men left behind as -prisoners, and most of the guns abandoned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now, again, everyone wondered what Lord Kitchener -thought, and what would happen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After his departure the weather broke up temporarily, -and a south-westerly gale—only a mild one—left -Suvla and Anzac and Cape Helles beaches strewn -with wrecked or stranded picket-boats, lighters, and -"water-beetles".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the third week of November the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> received -the welcome order to proceed to Kephalo. The full -moon shone brilliantly as she slipped out through the -nets, and off she went. Two hours after leaving -Mudros the track of one torpedo shot across her bows, -and half a minute later another passed some eighty -yards astern of her—Fritz, or one of his brothers, had -fired two torpedoes—so she increased speed and -"zig-zagged".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The danger had vanished by the time it had been -realized; and all that the Honourable Mess and the -gramophone knew about it, was the sudden rushing -down of men to close those water-tight doors and -hatchways which remained open, and a lurid description -from the Pimple afterwards. It did not interrupt -the delightful concert with worn-out records and -blunted needles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By three o'clock she entered the submarine-net -"gate" at Kephalo; and when the sun rose next -morning it shot up from behind Achi Baba, and -once again they heard the distant booming of guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kephalo, at the corner of Imbros Island nearest to -the Peninsula, is a narrow harbour with high hills -on one side and a narrow spit of land on the other. -It is entirely open to the north-east—the quarter from -which the worst of the winter gales blow—so three -ships, including the big </span><em class="italics">Oruba</em><span>, had been sunk across -it, higher up, to give protection to the little piers -built there, and to the picket-boats, motor-lighters, -and ordinary lighters which worked round them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kephalo had become the advanced base of Anzac -and Suvla, ten and twelve miles away respectively, -and it was absolutely necessary that troops and stores -should be able to be landed or embarked at all times. -Here, too, were the aerodromes which "Cuthbert" -and his brothers so delighted to bomb. One of these -was stationed on the low spit of ground; and the -Orphan, who had the knack of making friends with -everyone, and the knack of generally being in the -right place at the right moment, managed one -afternoon to be taken "up" in a reconnoitring aeroplane. -He and Bubbles had strolled along to the aerodrome, -wandered round until someone invited them to tea -in the "mess"; and whilst in the middle of it, the -"Flying Officer" on duty received an urgent signal: -"Hostile submarine reported off Gaba Tepe, -steering S.W.; please send aeroplane reconnaissance to -search".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Confounded nuisance!" exclaimed the Flying -Officer. "I wanted to write some letters; the mail -goes to-morrow morning. Well, you chaps can tell -a submarine from a shark, I suppose; which of you -would like to come along and spot old Fritz?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They both grinned with delight; but Bubbles carried -too much weight—at least a stone and a half more -than the Orphan—so the Orphan was chosen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The emergency aeroplane—a biplane—rested on its -wheels outside the sheds. They walked across to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Climb in!" said the Flying Officer. "No, you -won't want a coat; stick on this cap and goggles—pull -the flap down over your ears—and get in as you are; -we shan't be away more than an hour. Sit down -behind; I've altered the control gear—can work it from -the front seat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan had never been in an aeroplane before, -and tingled with excitement. He sat down and winked -at the disappointed Bubbles whilst his new friend -climbed up in front of him and began to play about -with levers and switches. "If you do see Fritz, signal -with your hand—bang me on the back—it's no good -shouting: I shan't be able to hear you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The blades began whizzing round as the engine -buzzed; men gave the machine a shove and a push; -the blades went so fast that they only made a mist in -front of the Orphan's eyes; the ground dropped away, -and he shouted to Bubbles to wait for him—though it -wasn't much use shouting, because of the noise of the -engines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up they went, passing over the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, and the other ships in the harbour, and out -beyond the line of submarine-net buoys.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They headed right over the sea, first of all towards -Helles; passed it, swept round, and the Orphan clutched -at the sides of the "body" as the aeroplane altered -course, for he thought she was slipping sideways. -Not a sign of Fritz did he see, but below him lay the -end of the Peninsula, its white tents, "W" beach, -the hull of the poor old </span><em class="italics">Majestic</em><span> showing clearly -under the sea, Achi Baba and the streaks which -represented the Turkish trenches. In another ten minutes -he looked down on Gaba Tepe, at one of the "Edgar" -class firing shells which he could see bursting among -the streaks on top of the hills there. Up the coast the -aeroplane sped, passed Suvla with its black submarine-net -buoys—he counted one hundred and fifty-two of -them; the two battleships inside them looked tiny, -so did the tents on shore. Then, with another wide -sweep over the sea, and bending to the right, he was -carried along the left-flank coast till he could see the -little gap of Ejelmar Bay, where he and the Sub had -tried, that night three months ago, to find Fritz; and -beyond it, with some humpy hills between, the sun -glittered on a broad sheet of water and a silver streak -which came in sight, in and out beyond the hills—the -Sea of Marmora and The Narrows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Round swept the aeroplane; he clutched the sides; -she steadied and flew back towards Helles again, but -not a sign of a submarine could he see; and in fifty-five -minutes from the time he had started, he was landed -with a gentle bump outside the aerodrome, and found -Bubbles waiting for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> a lucky chap," he bubbled. "Did you -see Fritz?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan shook his head. "But I saw The -Narrows and old Marmora; wasn't that splendid?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anybody fire at you?" Bubbles asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh no!" explained the Flying Officer; "there -was a bit of a haze over the sea, so I could not go -very high—shouldn't have seen Fritz if I had—so -it was dangerous to go too near land. We never -climbed above 2500 feet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They only just had time to catch the evening boat -off to the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, so they had to wish their new friend -good-bye and hurry back along the beach, the Orphan -talking thirteen to the dozen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pride filled the bosom of this young officer, for he -was the only one in the ship who had seen either The -Narrows or the Sea of Marmora. "It looks so near -to The Narrows!" he said to the Sub that night. "It -doesn't look more than an hour's walk. Things have -turned out rottenly, haven't they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> rather tragic—really," the Sub said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first job the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had, after arriving at -Kephalo, was to send working parties across to Anzac -to help salve some lighters, a tug, and two -picket-boats, driven ashore by the first of those gales from -the south-west. The first of the fierce gales from the -north-east followed, after two days of calm, and drove -such heavy seas into Kephalo harbour that the ship -had to put to sea, and anchor round the corner of the -island, behind another row of submarine nets, in -Aliki Bay. She came back as soon as that gale had -blown itself out; but on the 27th of November another -north-easterly gale commenced, and next day she -again had to shift round to Aliki Bay. Here she and -all the other ships that had come round for shelter -rode out that three days of blizzard which caused -such horrible suffering to the troops at Suvla—to -British and Turk alike. The temperature on board -ship never fell below 30 degrees, but at Suvla it fell -to something like 15 or 18, even lower. First of all, -before the gale it rained in torrents, and as the water -collected and flowed down from the hills behind -Anafarta into the valley, it washed over the Turkish -trenches, levelling them, and carrying drowned Turks, -drowned mules, barbed wire and their posts right over -a long section of the British lines, drowning a large -number of the British, flooding their trenches, and -carrying everything before it till the Salt Lake was -reached. When the rain ceased the bitter north-east -gale flung itself down from the hills, bringing at first -heavy snow; then the terrible cold froze the water in -the trenches, and hundreds of our men, up to their -middles in it, died of exposure, and very many -hundreds suffered from frost-bite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During those three days the troops at Suvla -experienced the climax of hardship and exposure. The -Turks suffered even more than our own people; and -when daylight broke after the worst night, they were -left exposed in the open with their trenches swept -away, and our men—those whose hands were not too -numbed to fire a rifle—shot them down like rabbits. -Afterwards, a gentle breeze sprang up from the -south-west, and, almost as if in pity, a warm sun shone down -on those much-tried armies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the Tuesday the ships trailed back to Kephalo -again, getting a glimpse of Samothrace with its -snow-clad peak glittering in the sun—a most gorgeous, -exquisite spectacle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They found that the centre one of those three -breakwater ships had disappeared entirely, and the head of -the harbour behind them, close to the piers, was -absolutely littered with wreckage. This centre ship had -broken in half on the Sunday night, and the seas -sweeping through the gap had hurled all the -picket-boats and lighters sheltering behind her on to the -shore, in one jumbled, tumbled mass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They presented a most extraordinary sight piled -on top of each other, and half buried in a huge mass -of seaweed swept in with them. A big distilling -steamer, with her rudder gone and her rudder-post -smashed, had been driven ashore farther along the -bay; beyond her lay a "water-beetle" high and dry, -and, still farther along the shore, one of those small -provisioning "coaster" steamers which ran between -Kephalo and the Peninsula.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Salvage work commenced immediately. The Lamp-post -and Rawlins took fifty men ashore, and worked, -day after day, digging away the seaweed which blocked -the little piers, and trying to refloat the least damaged -of the steamboats; the Sub, with a number of men, -had to rig shears to lift out the engines and boilers -of those which were hopelessly smashed—all very -unpleasant work, because that seaweed decomposed -quickly under a hot sun and gave out the most -unpleasant odour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A more pleasing job had Bubbles and the Orphan. -With a large working party they commenced to dig a -channel through the sand—good, honest, clean sand—in -order to refloat a stranded "water-beetle". They -paddled about all day and had a huge lark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the second morning, as they prepared to go -ashore, Uncle Podger, on his way to his bath, sang out: -"Take your little buckets and spades and go down to -the beach, dears, but promise Mummy not to get wet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll promise Uncle a jolly 'thick ear' when we -do come back," they laughed. "Come along by the -seven-bell boat, bring a basket and some tea 'grub', -and we'll have a picnic there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cuthbert" came over from Maidos once or twice, -just to make "kind enquiries", find out how the -salvage operations progressed, and see whether three or -four bombs would be of any assistance. They were -not; none of them dropped near enough to help, and -all much too far away to do any damage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The weather became simply perfect, and after a -week's hard work the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> had hauled off the -distilling ship and one of the "water-beetles", the -</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had towed off that small steam "coaster", and -Bubbles and the Orphan had dug a channel sufficiently -deep for a tug to come along and tow off their -stranded motor-lighter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That especial job being finished, these two midshipmen -again had time to look round and see what life -would bring. It brought news of woodcock and -partridge—woodcock in the deep sheltered valleys, and -partridge on the slopes of the hills. The little Padre -lent them his shot-gun, and away they tramped one -day, taking the China Doll to "beat" for them and -to carry home all the birds. They swore a solemn -oath that each should fire alternate shots, an -arrangement which made a "right and left" difficult -to get when frightened coveys were put up. Bubbles -fired the deadly shot which eventually killed a -partridge, and, of course, by the time the Orphan had -seized the gun the rest of that covey had swooped -out of range.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They sent the China Doll to retrieve the bird, and -sat down to smoke their pipes and shout good advice -at him; for the hill-side was covered with boulders and -thick scrub, and the China Doll had a big job in -front of him. "Keep it up, China Doll; never -despair!" they shouted encouragingly as he came back -with his hands and knees scratched and bleeding. -"'If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try -again.' We've got another hour to wait for you. Off you -go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last the bird was picked up; and in the -gun-room that night they held an inquest on it, and found -that "it had been well and truly killed by one or -more missiles discharged from an explosive weapon, -and that no trace of foul play, such as bludgeoning -or being strangled, could be discovered".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then came the question as to how it should be -"hung", and for how long. The China Doll said -that "the proper thing to do was to hang it by the -head, and when the corpse dropped off, then it would -be just right." They thought of trying the experiment -on him, but desisted on the urgent representation -of Uncle Podger that, if the China Doll's body -dropped off his head, the work of the Ship's Office -would be seriously delayed whilst he, Uncle Podger, -attended the funeral as chief mourner—and, besides, -he had no </span><em class="italics">crêpe</em><span> band to go round his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Eventually Bubbles and the Orphan ate that bird -on the second day—after innumerable visits to the -gun-room galley to see how it progressed—and it was -as tough as tough could be. They gave the China -Doll the gizzard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A week later the little Padre mildly suggested that -next time they borrowed his gun they might clean -it before they put it back in the case. "It doesn't get -quite so rusty," he said apologetically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For many months the southern portion of Anzac—Brighton -Beach and Watson's Pier there—had practically -been abandoned, because "Beachy Bill", a -high-velocity 4.1-inch gun, somewhere up in the -Olive Grove, above Gaba Tepe, had the range of -the pier so exactly that he would hit the end of it, -or lighters lying alongside, with his very first shot -of the day, and his fire at night was almost as -accurate. Several attempts had been made to destroy him -(probably he had several brothers), but these had not -been successful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day—the 10th December—the </span><em class="italics">Bacchante</em><span>, an -"Edgar" cruiser, and two monitors went across -from Kephalo, and fired a great number of rounds -into the Olive Grove. Whether "Beachy Bill" or -his brothers were hit or not, no one could actually -say; but only one gun fired after that day, and it -made such inaccurate shooting as not to interfere -with work either on the pier or the beach. It did -not fire at all at night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the time no one, except perhaps Captain -Macfarlane, knew the meaning of this great expenditure -of ammunition; but two days later, "all hands -and the cook" were told off for various jobs, either -at Suvla or Anzac, in motor-lighters or picket-boats, -or actually on the beaches themselves; and it dawned -on the enthusiastic Honourable Mess that, after all, -an attempt was to be made to evacuate those places, -and that the last prodigal bombardment of the Olive -Grove had been for the purpose of finally destroying -the guns there, and making it possible to use Brighton -Beach and Watson's Pier for the embarkation.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>So secretly had everything been carried out, that -no one in the gun-room knew that most of the stores -and the greater part of the guns, horses, and mules -had already been withdrawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had seen fleet-sweepers and the troop-carriers—the -</span><em class="italics">Osmanieh</em><span>, the </span><em class="italics">Ermine</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Reindeer</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Redbreast</em><span>, -</span><em class="italics">Abassiah</em><span>, and several others—crowded with troops -on their way to Suvla or Anzac; but they had not -seen them returning still more densely packed with -men, nor the transports with horses, guns, and stores. -This had all been done by night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rumours flew round that though Suvla and Anzac -were to be abandoned, the end of the Peninsula, in -front of Achi Baba, was to be reinforced by all that -remained of the 29th Division, and maintained at all -costs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post and Rawlins, ordered to take -charge of two "water-beetles", donned their dirty old -khaki delightedly, and took over their "commands". -The Lamp-post had K26, a single-screw lighter -driven by one big motor. K67 belonged to Rawlins, -and possessed two little motors driving twin screws. -For the first day they were employed in Kephalo -harbour, and had a great argument that night as to -which would prove the faster. The Lamp-post bet -Rawlins a dinner at the club at Malta, or at the first -civilized place the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> went to, that his one big -engine would beat the two small ones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day they had the opportunity of deciding, for -they were ordered to Suvla. The Lamp-post led the -way through the "gate" in the submarine net, and -waited outside for Rawlins to come abreast and make -a fair start.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The first one through Suvla 'gate' to win!" he -shouted. "Off we go!" and they raced each other -across the twelve miles of sea, the Lamp-post winning -his dinner very easily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now, though the chief stokers—old pensioners—in -these two lighters pretended to be just as excited -about the race as the midshipmen themselves, -actually they were much too wise to press their motors -hard, knowing full well that two hours driving at top -speed would probably disable them for days. However, -the Lamp-post and Rawlins did not know this—they -thought they were having a "ding-dong" race—so -it did not matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They arrived there at dusk, just as the usual -high-explosive shells dropped on "'A' West" beach, -and some little ones fell into the harbour near the -</span><em class="italics">Cornwallis</em><span>, others near the poor old distilling ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Off "'A' West" pier there was now quite a -comfortable little harbour, made by two steamers which -had been sunk at right angles to each other, with -a gap between them just sufficiently wide for two -"water-beetles" to pass through side by side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had helped to fill these two steamers with -stones and rubble at Mudros two months ago, so -recognized them—the </span><em class="italics">Fieramosca</em><span> and the </span><em class="italics">Pina</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On this same day, Bubbles and the Orphan rigged -themselves in khaki, joyfully packed away a few -things in their battered, old tin cases, and took charge -of two picket-boats—the Orphan of one belonging to -the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span> (this ship had no midshipmen), and -Bubbles of one which had belonged to the ill-fated -</span><em class="italics">Majestic</em><span>. The unfortunate Hun looked very -miserable as he waved "good-bye" to them. He had not -regained strength after his attack of dysentery, and -Dr. O'Neill would not let him take any job on shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've got your D.S.C., old Hun; so don't -worry," the Orphan consoled him. "I only wish -that I could get it!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-evacuation-of-suvla-bay"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Evacuation of Suvla Bay</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In a little wooden hut, perched on a mound just -above the landing-places at Kephalo, lived two naval -Captains—the Fierce One and the Not So Fierce -One.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles, the Orphan, and eight other snotties, with -their picket-boats, found themselves handed over to -the anything but tender mercies of the Fierce One; -and the morning after Rawlins and the Lamp-post -had raced their "water-beetles" (or thought they had -raced them) across to Suvla, these ten gathered, -expectantly, outside this wooden hut, and waited whilst -the Captains finished their breakfast and smoked their -pipes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All these ten midshipmen were dressed in some -sort of khaki except the two </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelsons</em><span>, who wore -ordinary blue uniform, and grinned and nudged each -other as though they shared some secret joke which -they couldn't possibly divulge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the Fierce One came out, and they all -stiffened to attention. He gave a preliminary -roar—just to clear his throat and make way for what was -coming—rapidly casting his eye over them. "Who's -the senior snotty here? Why the—the—the—don't -you report to me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ten had never thought of that. They muttered, -and looked at each other, and at last the very -microscopic </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson's</em><span> midshipman (known generally -as the Cheese-mite) nervously reported: "All -midshipmen present, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's your name?" he growled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Cheese-m—— Morrison, I mean, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Morrison be hanged! I don't care a tuppenny -biscuit what you were christened. What's your boat?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson's</em><span> first picket-boat, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Um! </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson</em><span> No. 1. That's your name. -What in the name of goodness d'you mean by it? -This isn't a fancy-dress ball; what are all these -individuals doing, coming along here like a lot of -dysenteric soldiers?" and he shook his fist at the eight -disconcerted midshipmen in khaki. "If I see 'em -dressed again except in uniform, I'll—I'll—wring -their necks!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he went from one to the other, to learn the -names of their steamboats, glaring at each, and -"sizing" them up as he did so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles became </span><em class="italics">Majestic</em><span>, the Orphan </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>. -This having been concluded, he went through them -again to make certain that he knew their boats, and -from that moment never made a mistake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson</em><span> No. 1 and No. 2, </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, and -</span><em class="italics">Majestic</em><span> fall in on the right—make a gap between -you and the others. You four will work at Suvla—the -other six at Anzac. You'll all get more orders -presently, but remember this. Your job is to take off -stragglers on Saturday and Sunday nights—those are -the two nights of the evacuation. You'll have some -pulling boats in tow, and you are not to leave behind -a single man who gets down to the shore. Remember -that. Saturday night ought not to be difficult; but -on Sunday night, when the last few men rush down -with the Turks after 'em, you'll have your work cut -out. You'll have to 'wash out' any idea of bullets -and nonsense like that, and if any one of you doesn't -do his job, I'll—I'll—wring his neck! Oh!" he -roared, "you'll wish you'd never met me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A good many of the young officers had begun to -wish that already.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went on: "The boats you'll have to tow will -come round in a day or two—those that aren't here -now; and here's a list of things to be done, one for -each of you. Away you go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He handed them each a paper, and stalked back -to the wooden hut, but turned and growled fiercely: -"Remember this: every man Jack who is on the -Peninsula now is useless to England; every man who -gets away is one to the good. Remember that, and -do your job, or by the—the—the—I'll wring your -necks! Off you go, and don't let me see any more of -you in those dirty ragamuffin clothes of yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They made their way down to the little piers and -the wrecked boats which still littered the shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> a rotter, Cheese-mite. You might have -told us. You knew it all the time," they said. "We -thought we must come in khaki."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't tell that you were coming like that, -and it was a jolly sight too late for you to go back -and shift," the Cheese-mite explained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My aunt!" the Orphan said to Bubbles as he -read his paper; "wooden boards to be fitted inside -the glass windows of cabins. Whatever's that for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Splinters, I expect. When we're chock-full of -Tommies, some will have to crowd below, and a -bullet coming in and smashing the glass would fling -the bits all round."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They don't expect us to have a warm time—do they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not half!" Bubbles grinned.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 66%" id="figure-68"> -<span id="screened-lanterns"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""SCREENED LANTERNS!"" src="images/img-329.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"SCREENED LANTERNS!"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>They soon stowed away their khaki and shifted into -blue uniform, and for the next two days fitted out their -boats with maxims, two boxes of belts, towing-spans[#] -over the sterns (as on the occasion of the first -landing), fitting shields round the steering-wheels of those -boats which had none, making screens for hand-lanterns, -testing their steam-pumps, and seeing that -the thirty or forty items down on their "lists" were -on board.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Towing-span, a rope or wire passing all -round a boat under her gunwales, -with a hook secured to the bight at the stern. -The painter or tow-rope of a boat -to be towed is secured to this hook.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the Thursday morning the Fierce One came -out in his fussy little "Z" motor-boat, and all the ten -picket-boats followed him, making a circle round him -whilst he inspected them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The maxims—he could see them; anchors—he -could see them too; but when he shouted through his -megaphone "Screened lanterns!" every snotty had -to hold up his lantern with one hand and the canvas -screen in the other. The same with the semaphore -flags, boats' signal-books, axes, compass-boxes, and -ammunition-boxes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Work your pumps!" he roared; and after a furious -interval all ten picket-boats began squirting jets of -water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he bellowed "Megaphones!" and all held up -their megaphones except the Cheese-mite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He dashed alongside </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson</em><span> No. 1, and seized -the Cheese-mite by his coat collar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's your megaphone? you—you—you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please, sir, I had it this morning; but when that -destroyer went past just now the picket-boat rolled, -and it went overboard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll roll you overboard," he growled, holding up -the Cheese-mite as though he were a kitten. "You'll -get another before night, or I'll—I'll——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Knives!" he shouted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now nearly all the snotties had taken for granted -that every man aboard would have one. But only -a few had them, and the Fierce One flew in a -towering rage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Eventually he took all the picket-boats outside the -submarine net to make certain that those maxims -would fire; and it can be easily imagined what -happened when ten strange maxims were worked by ten -not very experienced "hands", in ten bobbing -picket-boats, under the supervision of ten much less -experienced snotties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A bullet hit the gunwale not two feet from where -the Orphan stood, and goodness only knows why -there were no casualties. Little, though, cared the -Fierce One, so long as he made certain that every -machine-gun was in working order.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That day they practised towing their pulling-boats—four -to each of the Suvla boats, three to each of the -Anzac ones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A very busy day they had, for in the evening a -transport came into harbour loaded with mules from -Suvla, and tried the simple plan of slinging them -overboard and letting them swim to the shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan and Bubbles were sent away in pulling-cutters -to shepherd them in the right direction, -and had the time of their lives chasing silly, obstinate -mules who wanted to swim out to sea. Eventually -they headed them off, and they made a "bee-line" -for a battleship, lying with her torpedo-nets "out". -It was the funniest sight in the world to see -half a dozen mules with their heads looking over -the edge of the torpedo-nets, "digging out for daylight", -and really quite happy. After a lot of shouting -and laughing they were all induced to swim -shorewards, and soon scrambled on the beach, shaking -themselves like big dogs, rolling in the sand, and -looking for the nearest eating-place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During these few days the ten midshipmen heard -hundreds of yarns about the preparations for -evacuation—how the front trenches had been mined, and -many of the reserve and communicating trenches as -well; that the only guns to be left behind, if all went -well, were a few condemned 18-pounders and 6-inch -howitzers. To deceive the Turks on the Sunday -night, many rifles were being fixed up in the front -trenches with tins lashed to their triggers, and, above -these empty tins, others with a hole in the bottom of -each. When the last of the troops left the -firing-trenches, they would load the rifles, fill the top tins -full of water; the water would drip slowly or -fast—according to the size of the holes—into the other tins -fixed to the triggers, and when these became full, off -would go the rifles—at different times. The few -motor-lorries and ambulances still remaining kept dashing -about in full view of the Turks, to make them think -that they were just as numerous as ever; and the few -troops in reserve, instead of hiding behind Lala Baba -or Chocolate Hill, made themselves more conspicuous -in the open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can understand, as the week went by and that -fateful Saturday approached, how tense the -excitement grew, and how eagerly everyone watched the -barometer and the sky for any change from the -gorgeous calm days which succeeded each other. Such -a spell of fine weather could not possibly last much -longer, and the fate of perhaps fifty thousand men -depended much upon it lasting until early Monday -morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Turks had not yet given any sign that they -realized what had been happening or what was about -to happen. They still shelled the ships, the beaches, -the old empty gun positions just as they used to do, -and generally at the same old times; but no one, -knowing the ease with which they had previously -seemed able to obtain information of our doings, -thought it possible that they could actually still be in -ignorance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the middle watch, on Friday night, a huge fire -broke out at Anzac. Actually some of the most -inflammatory stores prepared for burning on the Sunday -night had been set alight accidentally, and made a -tremendous blaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On board the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> Mr. Meredith, whose watch -it was, stood, with the Quartermaster, watching the -glare—ten miles away across the sea—and knew that -something had gone wrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That will give the show away," the Quartermaster -muttered sadly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid it will," Mr. Meredith answered, -desperately anxious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That fire burnt all night, but in the morning the -Turks never showed the least sign of activity beyond -the usual normal sniping and shelling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Saturday dawned absolutely calm—a few flaky, -almost stationary clouds showed against the blue sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can it hold until Monday morning?"—that was -what everyone thought and hoped and prayed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again the ten midshipmen "fell in" outside the -little wooden hut—this time all in their proper blue -uniform—and received their orders in writing, each -order beginning with the well-known formula: "Being -in all respects ready for sea, you will proceed -forthwith..." Then followed long detailed orders for -every eventuality.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Drawing two days' provisions for his own crew and -the twenty-four men in his four pulling-boats occupied -the rest of the Orphan's morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At half-past four he shoved off from the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>—the -Hun, looking wistfully after him, waved "good -luck"—and he towed his four boats to the trawler told -off to tow him to Suvla. Bubbles, coming along with -his boats, made fast to another. Before dusk all the -trawlers left Kephalo, each with its picket-boat and -string of pulling-boats behind it; four headed for -Suvla, and the other six towards Anzac.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sea was calm, and the sky gave not the slightest -indication of any change in the weather, so that the -Orphan and his coxswain—a wiry, active petty officer -named Marchant, belonging to the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>—were in -the highest spirits.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If it only keeps like this, sir!" the coxswain kept -on saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before it grew too dark to see properly, they both -inspected all the boat's gear to make certain that -nothing was out of its place. Down in the cabin the -Orphan found some green leaves—cabbage leaves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Heave them overboard," he said. "Whatever -are they doing down here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought they were for you, sir. An old stoker -brought 'em down; told me to hand 'em over to you, -very carefully, and he brought this box too." He -picked up a small wooden box about a foot square, -with a lot of holes bored in the top and the sides; and -the Orphan burst out laughing, for he knew he would -find "Kaiser Bill" inside it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's 'Kaiser Bill'," he said, as he raised the -lid and saw the tortoise lying there. "He brings -good luck. He came in our boat when the Lancashire -Fusiliers landed, so I suppose old Fletcher -thinks he ought to take a hand in this job as -well—the funny old man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's a rum-looking beast for a mascot, isn't he!" -Marchant grinned, holding up "Kaiser Bill" with -his legs sprawling beneath his shell, and his head -peeping slyly out as though he knew all about -everything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan put him and his box down below the -water-line, where no bullets could reach him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A nearly full moon rose and gave sufficient light -to avoid any other craft on their way across, and in a -little over an hour and a half they had almost reached -the nets outside Suvla.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan slipped his tow-rope, and so did -Bubbles, and both of them steamed round to a little -pier which had been constructed on the north side of -Suvla Point—a pier called Saunders Pier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They reported themselves to the naval Pier-master; -and the Orphan, leaving his two big boats—a launch -and pinnace—alongside this pier, towed the other -two—two cutters—along the left-flank coast, and anchored -them close inshore. Their crews knew the countersign -and password, and if any men hailed them properly -from shore, they were ordered to pull in and -take them off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the next three hours the Orphan was employed -taking off officers and their baggage from "'A' West", -going in through the gap between the sunken -</span><em class="italics">Fieramosca</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Pina</em><span>, and steaming out again, dodging -empty motor-lighters being warped in through the -gap, and full motor-lighters being warped out. He -took them to the </span><em class="italics">Redbreast</em><span>, lying out near the nets, -and then returned to Saunders Pier and found his two -big boats loaded with rifles and baggage of all sorts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These he towed off to two trawlers anchored close -by, waited for them to be emptied, and brought them -back again to Saunders Pier. After that he lay off the -pier for nearly an hour, and had some food and a -smoke. The men boiled some water and made cocoa -over a bogey, and he had a jolly, happy, exciting time -yarning with Marchant, and listening to occasional -rifle-shots which came from farther away towards the -left flank—Jephson's Post way. Bubbles came back -from patrolling the coast, and lay alongside him. -"It's all quiet there along the coast, just a rifle-shot -every now and then; no one along the beach. Isn't -it a perfect night?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was actually the most perfect night imaginable; -hardly a breath of wind, hardly a ripple on the water, -and the moon lighted up the cliffs and Suvla Point -as distinctly as in day-time. Hardly a sound reached -them, and the rocks of Suvla Point prevented them -seeing anything going on inside the bay. It was all -as peaceful as a picnic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But about half-past one those two trawlers, to which -the Orphan had taken his boats with the baggage, went -aground; and the Orphan was sent round to "'A' -West", inside the bay, to bring out the Senior -Beach-master. For nearly four hours he worked, laying out -anchors and taking wires across to a big tug.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some time after six o'clock, just before the moon -actually disappeared, and before the two trawlers -floated off, he had to go along the coast, pick up his -two cutters—they had seen or heard nothing—then -pick up the big launch and pinnace, and tow them -back to Kephalo. It was only when he went back to -Saunders Pier for those two big boats that the Orphan -heard that everything had "gone off" without a -single hitch, and without the Turks having shown -the least sign that their suspicions had been aroused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hearing this, you can imagine how joyfully he and -Marchant, the coxswain, started on their twelve-mile -journey back to Kephalo. Those tows of boats must -be away, out of sight, before daylight; so they put -their "best leg foremost", and steamed in through the -harbour just after seven o'clock, finding a large -captured German steamer anchored there, and simply -packed with troops from Suvla.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most of the other ten picket-boats had arrived back -previously, because the night's job at Anzac had been -successfully completed by half-past one in the morning, -and the six boats on duty there had started back not -very long afterwards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The excitement and the enthusiasm of everyone, due -to the successful accomplishment of the first night's -work, kept the midshipmen awake. Most of the -picket-boats gathered close together under the lee of -the sunken </span><em class="italics">Oruba</em><span>. The crews cooked their breakfasts, -ate them—jolly good rations of army bacon, -any amount of bread and jam—yarned, and laughed, -and smoked. They fetched "Kaiser Bill" out of his -box and tempted him with a cabbage leaf, but he -turned up his nose at it. Then Bubbles and the -Orphan went alongside the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> to coal and water; -rushed inboard to get a wash and a bit more breakfast, -to tell everyone down in the gun-room—the Hun, the -China Doll, Uncle Podger, and the Pimple—everything -that had happened, and go back to their boats -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You didn't mind me sending you 'Kaiser Bill'?" -Fletcher, waiting outside the gun-room, asked the -Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rather not; it was jolly good of you to lend him -to us. He brought us good luck the first night, at -any rate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sure he'll bring you luck to-night as well, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Precious little "stand easy" did the Orphan and -his crew get that day. The </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure's</em><span> picket-boat -was about the best-steaming boat of the ten, and the -Fierce One used her all day, going about the harbour -and supervising everything that went on. He and -his crew managed to get a meal in the middle of the -day, and then were employed disembarking and clearing -the transport of all the troops she had brought -across the previous night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At half-past four on that Sunday afternoon, the 19th -December, all ten picket-boats, towed by as many -trawlers, and their pulling-boats behind them, started -off again for Anzac and Suvla.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The weather showed not a sign of changing, and -before they reached Suvla the darkness disappeared -under a moon almost more perfect than the night -before. It really was more perfect, because a few thin -clouds floated slowly across it; and though they hardly -lessened the light it gave, they prevented shadows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they neared Suvla the picket-boat slipped, and -did just as she had done the night before: anchored -her two cutters along the cliffs beyond Suvla Point, -and left the two big boats alongside Saunders Pier. -The Orphan then patrolled very slowly along the -coast, but everything was quiet except for a very few -solitary rifle-shots; and these, he thought, were probably -the rifles with the tin cans tied to their triggers -going "off" when their tins filled. No stragglers -showed on top of the cliffs nor down on the beach, -and it was almost impossible to realize that up above -him the trenches were being silently evacuated, and -that the soldiers had already commenced, sections at -a time, to file down that sandy, steep path which he -and the Lamp-post had followed, on their way back -from the Naval Observation Post, that ripping -afternoon in September.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At about ten o'clock Bubbles, almost incoherent -with excitement, came along in the old </span><em class="italics">Majestic's</em><span> -picket-boat and relieved him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have to go back to Saunders Pier," he stuttered -and burbled, "and take back your cutters. I've -to do a bit of patrolling."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, picking up his anchored cutters and -their crews, towed them to this pier, found his two big -boats already crowded with troops, and took them off -to two trawlers lying outside (those two which had -run aground the previous night had been refloated -shortly after daylight). For the next three hours he -went backwards and forwards between trawlers and -pier, and then, leaving his boats for Bubbles to carry -on the good work, was ordered round to "'A' West", -inside the Bay. On the way, he and the coxswain -and the crew had some food—bread and meat -sandwiches, water to wash them down. No food could be -cooked and no cocoa made this night, because strict -orders had been given that not a light had to be -shown—not even the cooking bogey could be lighted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here, at "'A' West", he was in the thick of everything, -jostling and nosing his way in and out among -the picket-boats and motor-lighters struggling to get -in or out by that gap between the </span><em class="italics">Fieramosca</em><span> and -the </span><em class="italics">Pina</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the pier they told him that everything was -"going all right", and that the Turks showed no -signs of leaving their trenches. The excitement as -boatloads of men, horses, and stores went off to the -ships, and as he helped with officers and their -baggage, kept him oblivious of time or fatigue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By four o'clock that morning the evacuation had -been successfully accomplished. He happened to -have gone to the Beach-master's office at about that -time with a message. As he entered, the -Beach-master put down his telephone and smiled grimly -to a military officer there. "They've just telephoned -from 'C' beach to say they are finished, and the -naval beach-party is now embarking. Not a soldier -left behind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expected to be on my way to Constantinople by -this time—a prisoner," the weary officer replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's about time we packed up too. There's only -a little more big baggage, and perhaps a hundred -and fifty men of the beach parties, military -landing-officers, and your people to go off from here, and that -finishes the bag of tricks. Haven't we pulled their -legs? Listen! they're sniping just as usual, up there. -I'm just going round to get those stores properly -started burning, and then pack up. I'm really sorry -to leave, for some reasons," he said, glancing round -his tiny little office "dug-out", with the bare rock on -one side and the sand-bag walls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sent the Orphan, with one of the Pier-masters, -to make a last search of the left flank. Off they went, -rounded Suvla Point, and worked slowly along under -the foot of the cliffs again, the Pier-master hailing the -shore occasionally through a megaphone. Not a -sound came back, except the echo from the face of the -cliffs. They went some two miles along the coast, -turned, and steamed back quickly, because they saw -the glare of the burning fires, and thought that now, -at any rate, the Turks would realize what had -happened, and would come tearing down. Suvla Point -and Saunders Pier were lighted up by the crackling, -leaping flames, and in his four boats, still lying -alongside the pier, the last of the people to leave Suvla had -crowded. Four or five army officers came across to -the less crowded picket-boat, and then, with an -extraordinary feeling of exhilaration, he towed them off to -the waiting trawlers, and stood off whilst those last -people crowded into them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This accomplished, he received orders to anchor -his boats, and, with that same Pier-master, to make -another last search along the cliffs on the left flank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Away he went, and perhaps not more than half a -mile—certainly not a mile—from the end of Suvla -Point they saw a small group of dark figures on top -of the cliffs. The Pier-master, a lusty naval -lieutenant, hailed them through his megaphone; and a -voice shouted back: "We're English! We're English!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's funny," said the Pier-master. "Edge in a -little closer; get your maxim ready."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The coxswain steered in towards the shore, and -again the Pier-master hailed, and again a single voice -called back: "We're English! We're English!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if they </span><em class="italics">were</em><span> English, they would </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> shout," -he said. "Keep her out! They are Turks, those -chaps; probably a patrol which has pushed along the -edge of the cliffs and does not know what to make -of things. They would make a 'hullabaloo', right -enough, if they were our chaps left behind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat steamed along under the cliffs, -hailing every now and then, until they had passed the -place where the left-flank trenches, coming down from -Jephson's Post, touched the shore. Not a man could -be seen, nor did any answer come back in response to -the hails through the megaphone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's finish!" the Pier-master told the Orphan. -"Turn her round." Over went the wheel, round -twisted the picket-boat, back she steamed to where -the four boats lay, out beyond Suvla Point; and -although the moon had disappeared by this time, there -was not the slightest difficulty in finding them, for -the whole water reflected the flames of the burning -stores, and the boats and the men's faces showed up -plainly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picket-boat took them in tow, and commenced -to steam across to Kephalo. Behind her the flames -leapt fiercely along the sweep of the bay, and every -now and again explosions took place, hurling masses -of flame and sparks high in the air. Silhouetted black -against these fires was the </span><em class="italics">Cornwallis</em><span> battleship, left -behind to keep the fires burning with her shells—if -necessary—and to destroy in the morning the few -wooden lighters which had been left behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down along the coast at Anzac the sea was ruddy -with the huge fires burning there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if they've only been as successful down -there, it's been a mighty good show," the Pier-master -said as they watched them. "We've only left four -condemned guns—blown them up, too—and not a -single man, horse, or mule; and we've even taken off -the goats belonging to the Indian Transport Column. -My hat! it's simply wonderful; I'm going to coil up -and do a little 'shut eye' down in the cabin. I have -not slept for nearly four days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Kaiser Bill' is down there. I do believe he has -brought luck," the Orphan burst out; and then had to -explain who "Kaiser Bill" was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The coxswain, sweeping his hand astern towards -Anafarta, called down: "Look, sir, there comes the -dawn. We wondered if the weather would hold till -Monday, and, thank God! it has."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan looked, and, hardly noticeable behind -the bright glare of the fires, saw the pale light of -dawn behind the Anafarta hills.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no longer any need for precautions. -The "bogey" on the engine-room casings soon burnt -brightly, and soon he and Marchant were sharing -a big bowl of cocoa, and ravenously eating some -more clumsy sandwiches which the men cut for them. -Neither of them as yet felt sleepy, because the -excitement of success kept them wide awake, though -neither had slept for two whole days and nights.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By seven-thirty it became light enough for them -to see, ahead of them, on their way from Suvla or -Anzac, ten or twelve "water-beetles", a dozen or more -trawlers, with long strings of transports' boats, -pontoons, and lighters towing behind them; some twenty -steamboats, also with their "tows", and several small -tugs. The Suvla distilling steamer—the </span><em class="italics">Bacchus</em><span>—which -for four months had been constantly shelled, -was steaming on her way to Mudros; and patrolling -destroyers, trawlers, and drifters swept the sea just as -they always had done, and just as though nothing -had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Boom! Boom! came the rumble and thud of the -firing of two big guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The </span><em class="italics">Cornwallis</em><span>, sir, at Suvla," the coxswain said, -turning to look, and making the Orphan turn to watch -Turkish shells bursting down by the water's -edge—just as usual. They had commenced their early -morning "hate"—on empty beaches.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By all that is wonderful, sir!" said the coxswain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At half-past eight the picket-boat entered Kephalo -harbour; and the Orphan knew, by the cheering which -greeted him from the troops packed together aboard -two large transports anchored inside, that the -evacuation of Anzac had been completed as successfully as -that at Suvla.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned over his four boats to a battleship, and -threaded his way through the throng of steamboats, -trawlers, and motor-lighters which jostled each other -in the harbour, eventually reached the shore, and -landed to report himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found the Fierce One, who had only just -returned from Suvla, and the Not So Fierce One at -breakfast in their little wooden hut.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hum! You've come back, have you?" growled -the Fierce One. "A very good two nights' work; -very good, indeed!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Not So Fierce One, looking at the Orphan, -said: "You look pretty well fagged out; have a cup -of tea, or something."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-terrible-night"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A Terrible Night</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Orphan had returned to Kephalo at nine o'clock -in the morning—that Monday morning after the -evacuation of Suvla. He had had no sleep for forty-eight -hours, and was allowed none now. In the afternoon -the largest tug received orders to tow four picket-boats -and a steam pinnace to Mudros—the two picket-boats -belonging to the </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson</em><span>, the boat belonging -to the </span><em class="italics">Swiftsure</em><span>, another, and the steam pinnace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan thought this would be rather a "spree", -and did not notice that the north-easterly breeze which -had held all that past week had backed to the south-west.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At half-past four in the afternoon, he and the other -boats followed the tug out of harbour under their -own steam. Beyond the "nets" the tug waited for -them to come along and make fast, one behind the -other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is just the time when it's best to be last," -Marchant, his coxswain, suggested. "I don't feel -quite certain of the weather, and if we are the last boat -we can slip whenever we want to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan agreed, and wasted a good deal of -time—on purpose—going out of harbour, and found -the other boats all secured to each other, in one long -line, by the time he joined them. The captain of the -tug was not very polite to him, but he did not worry -about that, and made fast his tow-rope to the last -boat—the </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson's</em><span> No. 1 picket-boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Cheese-mite shouted across: "I say, Orphan, -you've cut me out of the stern billet—I wanted that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So did I," the Orphan laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Away they all went, one after another, the tug -steaming very slowly; and outside Suvla Point they -found quite a fresh breeze, blowing straight in their -faces, and the sea which had been so calm had already -begun to cover itself with little "white horses".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Four "water-beetles" joined company, puffing along -with them as fast as they could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fires were allowed to die out gradually in all the -steamboats, and there was nothing to do but steer -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The crew now lighted the bogey, made tea, and -fried some bacon. Everyone had a good meal; and -after it the Orphan felt much too comfortable and -sleepy to chaff the Cheese-mite ahead of him through -his megaphone. "I'm going to have a bit of sleep," -he told Marchant, and snuggled down below in the -little cabin, with a rolled-up overcoat as pillow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was bright moonlight when he woke up, and he -felt the picket-boat bumping into waves every other -second. He rubbed his eyes, and jumped on deck to -the wheel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo, what's that?" he said, noticing smoke -coming up out of the funnel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't wake you, sir; there's nothing to worry -about—not yet; but I don't like the look of the weather, -so I'm raising steam in case anything happens. You'd -better get an oilskin on, sir," he added, as the bows -bumped into a wave and the spray came over them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Orphan had not one, so he took the wheel -whilst Marchant went for his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The breeze had indeed risen, and the sea too. The -picket-boats ahead of him were going up and down -like the boats at a circus roundabout; and behind -him those motor-lighters, looking more like -"water-beetles" than ever, in the moonlight, were slowly -falling astern, yawing from side to side and covered with -spray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw Kephalo South Point light and the fires -over at Anzac, which still burnt furiously, and knew -that the boats had only just got past Aliki Bay. He -could not have been asleep for long.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wind and sea increased every minute, and made -the steering of the picket-boat quite a hard job. -Marchant came back and took the wheel from him. -"I've known this boat for nearly three years, sir," he -said; and the Orphan, knowing how he hated letting -anyone steer his own old picket-boat, knew what he -meant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What extraordinary luck, sir!" Marchant said -presently. "Fancy if it had blown like this last night! -Right on shore it would have been, and not a boat -could have gone near it. We could not possibly have -taken the soldiers off, to say nothing about their guns."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In half an hour the motor-lighters were evidently in -difficulties. In order to keep their screws in the water -they had to be much ballasted down by the stern. -This made their bluff bows come right out of the -water; and every sea hitting them, besides almost -stopping their way, tended to throw them off their -course. They could not steer properly, yawing this -way, yawing that; and it was impossible for them to -keep up with the five and a half knots of the tug, -which was then about the speed she was towing the -picket-boats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stopped and, as the motor-lighters struggled -towards her, hailed them, and made two come alongside, -abreast each other, on each side of her. She -made them fast, and with them working their motors -and doing their best to steer, she went on again. But -you can imagine what a terribly clumsy "tow" they -made, bumping into each other, bumping into the -tug, simply covered with spray minute after minute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, sir," said Marchant presently, as the -weather rapidly grew worse; "if those lighters break -adrift, they'll come down on us and finish us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What d'you want to do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like to slip, and try and get along by ourselves. -We can do it, sir; she's a very good steamer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan didn't know quite what to do. He -realized the danger, but he didn't relish the idea of -steaming nearly fifty miles to wind'ard, in the teeth of -the rapidly rising wind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, he realized that Marchant probably knew, -better than he did, what the boat could or could not do; -so he agreed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He seized the megaphone and yelled to the Cheese-mite -to slip his tow-rope. The Cheese-mite, who -also had raised steam, wanted to know where he was -going.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Make for Mudros!" yelled the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"D'you know the way?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The coxswain does."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll follow you," the Cheese-mite shouted, as the -tow-rope fell into the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two of them swerved outside the clumsy -motor-lighters and gradually forged ahead, lost sight of -them, and went plunging into the head seas, steering -by compass and by the glow of the fires of Anzac. In -a very short time they had to batten down everything—the -forepeak hatch, the engine-room, and the -stokehold hatches. The Orphan and Marchant (who had -taken off his boots and oilskin) were wet through, -waves washed a foot deep over the picket-boat, and -she made very little progress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For two hours they struggled on; but by that time -a regular gale was blowing, driving a short steep sea -in front of it so fiercely that the picket-boat not only -made scarcely any way, but could hardly keep her -bows to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We can't do it, sir," Marchant at last said, when, -at one extra lurch, two of the spare water-barricoes -(full they were) tore themselves from their lashings -round the engine-room casings and went overboard. -"We haven't enough water now—to say nothing of coal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll have to go back, sir!" he shouted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right-o!" yelled the Orphan, clinging to the rail -round the cabin, and not at all liking the idea of -turning the boat round in such a sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Very gently Marchant edged her round; a wave -buried her bows and threw her over; she righted -herself, and the next wave, catching her almost -broadside on, simply flung her on her beam-ends. For a -moment the Orphan thought she would never right -herself; then she did with a jerk, a wave came green -almost over the wheel, the picket-boat lurched more -heavily than before. The Orphan, swept off his feet, -clung to the rail, and by the time he had gained his -feet again she was round, and going ahead with the -waves roaring after her, lifting her stern, foaming over -the counter and trying to fling it round. He groped -his way aft, clinging to the cabin rail, and found that -already there were two feet of water in the stern-sheets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He suddenly remembered "Kaiser Bill", jumped -down into the water, went into the cabin, and found -his box floating about. He took it out into the -moonlight, and was much relieved when the tortoise peeped -out of his shell to see what all the "bobbery" was -about. He jammed the box in a rack inside the cabin, -near the top of it, and went back to the wheel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Much, sir?" Marchant asked anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two feet!" the Orphan shouted, and told him -about rescuing "Kaiser Bill".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd forgotten all about him, sir. We're all right -now, he'll bring us through. We must get that water -out of her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan knew that the ejector was choked, so -he made his way for'ard, clinging to the wire round -the engine-room casings, the funnel-stays, and the -gun-mounting, to call two of the men, huddled down -under the forepeak, to come aft and bale the water out -with buckets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They came and worked hard, but the waves constantly -lopped in, and the amount of water diminished -very slowly. He knew that if her stern swung round -and she "broached to", the seas would fill the big -stern-sheets completely, and as he could not trust to -the engine-room bulkhead being watertight, she would -probably sink. He understood then why Marchant -had taken off his boots and oilskin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went back to the steering-wheel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then the stokehold hatch opened, the stoker -drew himself out, and scrambled cautiously aft. He -began unlashing one of the two remaining barricoes -of water, when a sudden lurch of the boat threw him -off his feet, and he slid overboard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Like lightning Marchant, shouting "Take the -wheel, sir!" jumped in front of the protecting shield, -flung himself down, gripping the wire round the -engine-room casing with one hand, leant over the -gunwale, and seized the stoker almost before he had -fallen completely over the side. There was the crash -of something being overturned, the sizzle of red-hot -cinders falling in the water, and Marchant, with a jerk, -wrenched the man against the boat's side. He gripped -the life-line; Marchant gave a heave, and he climbed -on board again. It all happened in the twinkling of -an eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marchant came back and took the wheel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty quick work, that!" the Orphan said. -"He'd have been drowned; we couldn't have turned -round to pick him up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; it wouldn't have been safe," Marchant shouted -back, meeting a vicious swerve of the stern with a -touch of helm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at my hands and face, sir," he said, when -the picket-boat had quieted herself. "I knocked -over that bogey; it hadn't gone out, and the cinders -burnt me or scalded me when they fell into the -water."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the moonlight the Orphan saw that his face -and hands were very red.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't see that </span><em class="italics">Lord Nelson's</em><span> boat, sir," -Marchant shouted in a minute or two. "She ought -to have seen us turn and followed. I can't see her -now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan looked astern and could see nothing. -In ordinary circumstances he would have gone back -to look for her; but with that raging, roaring, steep -sea racing after them, both he and Marchant knew -this was now out of the question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The only thing they could do they did; Marchant -going aft, lighting a lantern, and lashing it to show -astern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He left the wheel to the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the time Marchant came back the tug hove in -sight, tossing and tumbling in the white foaming -seas, evidently standing by two motor-lighters which -had broken adrift and were almost hidden in spray, -broadside-on to the waves. They saw nothing of the -other two.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They passed them, and caught up with one of the -other picket-boats. Marchant roared through his -megaphone for her to keep Kephalo Light well clear -to port because of the "submarine detector" nets. -He knew where they were, and this steamboat seemed -to be steering for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's one caught in them, over there, sir!" -Marchant shouted, pointing far away to port. "She'll -probably drift on to the rocks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't we go and help?" the Orphan shouted, -knowing full well that this was impossible, for once -the propeller fouled those nets his picket-boat would -be helpless, and drift on the rocks herself when the -waves tore her out of the nets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marchant shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In half an hour they had Kephalo Light a couple -of miles on their port beam; half an hour later they -had edged the picket-boat into comparatively smooth -water, and by eleven o'clock that night they went in -through the gate in the submarine net at Kephalo, -and ran alongside the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time Marchant's face and hands had begun -to swell and blister from that scald or burn, and were -very painful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan sent him inboard to Dr. Gordon, and -took his steamboat round the sunken breakwater ships -alongside the landing-place. Then he stumbled, wet -through and fearfully tired, up to the wooden hut, -woke the Fierce One, and reported himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He became horribly unpopular, and was ordered to -report in the morning. So back he went to the picket-boat, -tied her up alongside the sunken Oruba; and he -and his crew went to sleep, and would have slept for -ever, if the crew of another picket-boat, tied up close -to them, had not given them a "shake" next morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the forenoon the Orphan was sent outside the -harbour to search for the other picket-boats which had -not arrived. He saw the Cheese-mite's boat hard and -fast on shore, and another breaking up not far from -her. He expected that the crews had swum or -scrambled ashore (they had done so); but the seas ran -much too high for him to go in and give assistance, -so back he came into harbour and reported this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hum!" growled the Fierce One. "You don't -belong to me any more; go back to your ship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tired midshipman, thinking that he had -disgraced himself, went back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles met him at the top of the gangway—his -face redder, and his chuckling, snorting noises louder -than ever. "Orphan! Orphan!" he blurted out; -"you and I are off to 'W' beach. The Sub went -there yesterday, and we're going to-night. Really—honour -bright!" as he saw that the Orphan thought -that his leg was being "pulled".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Phew! That's grand! My word, what luck!" -the Orphan burst out, his tired eyes lighting up as he -realized that Bubbles meant it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marchant, with his left hand bandaged up and his -face all oily and red, was waiting to go down into the -boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye!" the Orphan said. "We've had a -splendid time together, haven't we? Good luck to -you!" and darted away to see the Commander and get -his orders; but then, remembering "Kaiser Bill", ran -back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's all right; they're bringing him up along -with your gear," Bubbles told him. "I'll look after -everything. You do look a prize burglar!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found the Commander. "Yes, you are to go -across in a trawler—about five o'clock. The Captain -wishes to see you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So aft he went, and found Captain Macfarlane in -his cabin smoking a cigarette, as usual.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hum!" he said, smiling when he saw how -unkempt the Orphan looked, his face dirty, and his -clothes hardly dry from last night's soaking. "Hum, -Mr. Orpen! We don't seem to be able to carry on -this war without you, do we? You have to go across -to 'W' beach to-night, and you'll probably be there -for some time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are they going to evacuate Helles, sir?" the -Orphan asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect you will be able to tell me that, when -you've been there a few days. You were out in that -gale last night, I hear, and the only one of those five -boats to get back. Hum! You seem lucky."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We had 'Kaiser Bill' on board. Old Fletcher, -the stoker, made me take him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! was that it?" smiled the Captain, tugging -his beard. "Well, off you go, and good luck to you! -You'll have plenty of shells to dodge—over there. -You'd better take 'Kaiser Bill' with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will, sir, if Fletcher lets me." And the Orphan, -hugely happy and delighted, went away to the -gun-room to tell all his adventures.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At four o'clock that afternoon Bubbles and the -Orphan stood at the top of the accommodation ladder, -with all the clothes and gear they wanted in two -ordinary sailor's kit-bags, and their bedding made up in -two bundles. On top of the bundles rested "Kaiser -Bill's" wooden box, with the tortoise inside. Old -Fletcher had come aft, and was "fussing" round him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll look after him all right. Thank you for -lending him!" they called out as they went down into -the Hun's steam pinnace. "Kaiser Bill" and their -gear were carried down after them, and the Hun took -them across to the waiting trawler.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By five o'clock the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> was once more out of -sight, and the trawler was steaming towards Cape -Helles with the remnants of last night's gale on her -starboard beam. The two midshipmen both wore -once again the khaki which the Fierce One had -forbidden, the same clothes they had worn when they -left "W" beach at the end of May, six months and a -half ago; and they felt supremely happy, crouching -in the lee of the trawler's galley, and watching the -island of Kephalo gradually fading out of sight till -darkness hid it altogether.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At half-past six the trawler ran alongside a sunken -steamer—the outer hulk of Pier No. 1; a steamboat -came for them, and landed them and their gear at -No. 3 Pier—the pier they had watched being -commenced by the Sappers the very day of the landing. -By the light of a single lantern they found the -Pier-master—a Sub-lieutenant, R.N.R.—and were ordered -to report themselves to the Naval Transport Officer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd better go up to the Mess," the R.N.R. Sub -told them. "You'll probably find him up there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He gave them two men to carry their gear, and -with "Kaiser Bill" under the Orphan's arm they -stumbled along the pier in the dark till their feet -scrunched into the sand on "W" beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a time since we were here!" Bubbles blurted -out; and: "Isn't it grand to get back again?" the -Orphan chuckled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were no flares now, the shore was absolutely dark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They started off along the beach towards where the -main gully road used to be; but everything had so -changed, and it was so dark, that they soon had to let -the two seamen with their bundles lead the way—off -that beach, up a broad, firm road, turning to the left -along a narrow path, then down some wooden steps, -and so to a dark "cutting" in the side of the slope, at -the end of which a glow of light showed through -half-opened folding-doors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here's the Officers' Mess, sir. Glad to see you on -shore, sir," said one of the seamen; and the Orphan -recognized Plunky Bill's voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello! You here? How are things going?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty quiet, sir; nothing much doing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are they going to evacuate the place?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ain't 'eard nothing. We've been landing a good -many of the soldiers round from Suvla—a good show—down -there, sir. I ain't 'eard nothing about nobody -going off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles, looking in through the doors and seeing -no one inside, asked him where the Sub was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't see much of him, sir. I works down -at No. 1 Pier—mostly. Well, we'll stick your gear -'ere. Some of the officers will be a-coming up soon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Kaiser Bill' has come along—for luck," the -Orphan said; and Plunky Bill stepped into the -lamp-light from the half-open door to have a look at him -in his box.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'E will bring luck all right, sir. I wish we'd 'ad -'im at that there Ajano place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they were left alone, went inside through the -door—evidently the folding-doors from the saloon of -one of the sunken steamers—into a pantry sort of -place, through it into a long room some 9 feet high, -20 feet long, and 12 feet broad, with a wooden floor -and a wooden ceiling, from which an oil-lamp hung—the -lamp which had glowed through the doorway—over -a long wooden table littered with newspapers, -and with a wooden bench on either side of it. At the -far end was a fire-place—alight and burning cosily—some -deck chairs round it, a packing-case full of coal -in the corner, and a very dilapidated card-table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look how they make cupboards!" said Bubbles -excitedly, and pointed to two shell-boxes let into the -clay walls. "Isn't that 'cute'?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then from outside came a loud voice. "My jumping -Jimmy! D'you think I'm going to land a hundred -tons of hay a night like this? Not if I know it. It -would all get soaked. Tell him to wait till the -morning; the sea will have gone down by then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub came in, calling out: "Outside! Outside! -Pantry! Pantry! Bring me a bottle of beer!" And -seeing the two midshipmen, burst out with: "Yoicks, -my merry kippers! My bubbling Bubbles! My -perishing Orphan! Pantry! Pantry! Bring three -bottles!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They've sent you two here, have they? Good -egg! Well, you'll have lots to do, and a lot of -shell-dodging. They've got a better brand in stock -now—burst every time. Hello! There goes one!" he said, -as the roaring thud of a bursting shell came from -somewhere up the ridge, and some bits of dried clay -broke away from the walls and rattled down on the -wooden floor. "That fell in the Ordnance Stores. -They've had a lot there lately."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's it from? Achi Baba?" asked the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old 'Asiatic Annie'—a 6-inch. She's a -confounded nuisance. What d'you think of my -'dug-out'? Come and see where I 'pig' it;" and the Sub -took them past the fire-place into a little room beyond, -and, flashing his electric torch, showed them two -beds, a small table, cupboard places in the mud walls, -a stove, and two little wash-stands—evidently taken -out of a ship. "We've got lots of stuff from these -sunken hulks. Snug little place, isn't it?—especially -when we light the stove in the corner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are we going to live here?" the midshipmen asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good heavens, no, my wriggling worms! You -won't live with the aristocracy. Come along, and I'll -show you your 'pigsty'—another 'dug-out', which -we call the dormitory."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A fine-looking old Leading Seaman, an old Naval -Reserve man named Richards—he may have been -fifty, he may have been sixty—came in with the three -glasses of beer, just as another tremendous roar shook -the wooden beams overhead and made the tin lamp-shade -rattle—it sounded not twenty yards away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the Sappers' place, that one, sir; they're -starting early to-night," the old chap said, putting the -tray on the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Send these officers' gear round to the dormitory; -you'll find it outside," the Sub told him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They've gone already, sir," Richards said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's on top of those beams?" the Orphan -asked, a little anxiously, as another roaring explosion -thudded the air, not quite so near as the last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A new tarpaulin, my Orphan! I stole it yesterday. -It's waterproof, too!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can those things come in here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's nothing to prevent 'em," grinned the Sub. -"Come along, and we'll peg out a claim for you two -in the dormitory. Hello! what the devil have you -got there?" he said, seeing "Kaiser Bill's" box on the -table, and opening it, roared with laughter. "Old -Fletcher made you bring him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He made me take him for Suvla evacuation—for -luck—and the Captain told me I'd better bring him -here, as he'd brought luck there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are they going to evacuate this place?" they both -asked at the same time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub shook his head. "I don't think so. So -you were at Suvla? Of course you were; you'll have -to tell me all about it. What a splendid show that -was! Our chaps here made a pretence of advancing -that same day—lost a lot of people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By now he had taken them through the cutting. -"That's the kitchen," he said, as he took them out of -the mess and they passed a place with a light in it; -"old Richards looks after it, and us, like a -mother." He led them through another deep cutting, and -through an opening closed by a door—evidently a -door taken from the cabin of one of the sunken -hulks. "More loot," the Sub said, switching on -his torch and leading the way into a long place -with a few planks laid over the clayey earth, with -earth walls and a timber roof. Six beds were already -there, with bags between them, and their own bundles -lay, lonely, in the middle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He showed them a corner where they could spread -out their beds. "I'll get some planks put there in -the morning," he told them. "You'd better come -along and see the Captain now; he'll be up in his -'dug-out' by this time, I expect."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they went out on to the open slope, climbed up -to a road which ran immediately at the back of the -dormitory, another high-explosive shell burst high up -the ridge, lighting up a few white tents.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan winced and Bubbles chuckled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then it was all dark again. "Mind those steps; -keep close to me; here we are," and the Sub took -them along another cutting to the Naval Transport -Officer's "dug-out".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They found this naval Captain there, washing the -sand off his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two of our midshipmen, sir; the two we expected."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned round—a short, thick-set man with a -bullet-shaped, closely cropped head—and he wiped the -soap-suds off his mahogany-coloured face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right; the Sub will show you where to go; -glad to have you," and he waved them away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went back towards the Mess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll have to take charge of a picket-boat," the -Sub told Bubbles; "and you, Orphan, will have to -do odd jobs under me—all sorts of things: cleaning -up the camp, fetching coal, any old thing. Ah! look -out! here comes another!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They heard the whistling swish of a shell, and then -another glare, and another tremendous explosion -burst, just the other side of the Naval Mess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instinctively they had thrown themselves down on -the ground; something hurtled past and buried itself -in the sand close by; and as they scrambled to their -feet the Sub said angrily: "Confound them! Come -along back to the Mess; you can have a wash in my -basin, and then it will be time for dinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two soldiers—a Major and a subaltern, the Military -Landing Officers—a R.N.R. lieutenant, and two -R.N.R. sub-lieutenants came in at odd times for -dinner. The Sub hurried through his meal, put on -a thick coat, and warmed himself in front of the fire -before going down to the beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there much to do to-night?" asked one of the -soldier officers—the subaltern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Absolutely nothing, old chap, except to get off a -tug, two steamboats, something like half a dozen -lighters driven ashore last night; try and repair about -twenty feet of No. 1 Pier washed away by the other -gale, and see what can be done with the 'Inner Hulk'—she -broke her back when the pier 'went', and we'll -have to try and get a gangway across the gap; -otherwise I can't think of anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two of the R.N.R. officers went with him, but he -sent the two midshipmen to turn in. Neither of them -had had any proper sleep for three days, and they -both had been nodding and yawning, and looking -stupidly tired all through that meal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So they turned in, put "Kaiser Bill" between -them for luck, and slept like "tops".</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="in-dug-outs-at-cape-helles"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">"In 'Dug-outs' at Cape Helles"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Richards, that splendid old Leading Seaman who -"ran" the Mess, brought them both a cup of tea in -the morning. "Four bells just struck, sirs; breeze -gone round to the north-east, pretty nippy outside it -is, but fine. Hands 'fall in' at half-past six." He -lighted an oil-lamp and left them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles snuggled down under the blankets and -would have gone to sleep again, had not the Orphan -pulled them off him and made him turn out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They dressed hurriedly, saw that "Kaiser Bill" -was safe in his corner; and by seven o'clock, just -before the dawn commenced, Bubbles had taken -charge of a very much battered, old picket-boat lying -alongside No. 3 Pier; and the Orphan, with a party of -five stokers, was sent up behind the Mess to deepen -a shallow gutter-way between it and the road, to -prevent rain washing off the road on to the top of the -dormitory and that new tarpaulin which the Sub had -stolen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He met the Sub coming back from his night's work -on the beach, wet through and very fagged. "I got -some of those lighters off, but there's another week's -work down there at that job," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When daylight came, the Orphan found that "W" -beach had altered very much since he had been there, -six months and a half ago. The cliffs beyond were -crowned by a vast number of hospital tents and -marquees; where, previously, the horse and mule "lines" -had been, tents and marquees, and huge masses of -stores, protected by tarpaulins, now occupied these -spaces, and the irregular sandy track up the gully -to the ridge had become a wide well-made road -with well-metalled roads branching away to left and -right. Everywhere there were "dug-outs", not open -ones as in those early days, but covered with wooden -or galvanized-iron roofs, over which at least one -protecting layer of sand-bags had been laid. -Motor-lorries dashed along the roads continuously, and -seemed to have taken the place of horses and mules -almost entirely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Along the face of the steep cliff, on the far side of -the gully from where those one-inch Nordenfeldts and -maxims had played such havoc among the Lancashire -Fusiliers on the day of the landing, a steep -road had been cut in the face of it, and the Orphan -saw hundreds of "dug-outs" up there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fifty yards below him was the beach itself, with its -four little piers—No. 1 Pier to his right, with a gap -in it made by the first of the south-west gales; beyond -it the "Inner Hulk", a sunken steamer with her back -broken; and beyond her, at right angles, another -sunken steamer, the "Outer Hulk". At his feet was -No. 2 Pier, the first pier the Sappers had begun on -the 25th April; and beyond this the longer No. 3 Pier, -with its end curving towards the "Outer Hulk", so -that a small harbour[#] had been formed in which now -lay two little "coaster" steamers, several lighters, and -a trawler.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] This harbour was called Port Talbot after the Captain -of the poor old </span><em class="italics small">Majestic</em><span class="small">.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Beyond and to the left, under the high cliff, was -No. 4 Pier, more of a mole or jetty than a pier, -protected a little from the east by a reef of rocks. It was -on this pier that the Orphan, later on, had so much -work to do. Farther along still, several lighters -had stranded, and one or two were already broken up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Out towards Tenedos and over against the Asiatic -shore the usual trawlers and drifters and a couple of -destroyers patrolled for submarines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But what struck the Orphan most vividly was the -emptiness of the Straits between him and the Asiatic -shore. In May they had been almost crowded with -battleships, transports, hospital ships, ships of all -sorts and sizes; now a solitary hospital ship lay off -Helles, and only two or three small craft and tugs -were anchored inshore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Turks fired no shells that morning until the -breakfast hour, when two fell among the Sappers' -stores and tents, without, however, doing any damage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After breakfast the Orphan and his stokers had -more digging to do, extending the beach party's -"dug-outs" at the foot of the low cliff, below the -Mess "dug-out", and commencing others. Shells -came over every now and then all the morning, but -none burst near the Orphan's party. When they -knocked off work and started dinner, the Turks over -on the Asiatic shore fired many big 6-inch high -explosives, which did very little material damage, -though they racked his nerves exceedingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan never even pretended that he did not -hate those shells; and when, that afternoon, he -received orders to take twenty men, embark in a tug, -and go down to Rabbit Island to draw coal, he felt -extremely pleased to get away from them. Rabbit -Island is a tiny little island at the mouth of the -Straits, and when he arrived there he found two small -monitors with long-range guns busily bombarding -the Asiatic guns. The Turks were firing back, and -when he went alongside the collier to get his filled -coal-bags, one of their wretched shells fell so close to -the tug as to splash the bows. The Orphan loaded -his coal-bags and started back to "W" beach, -realizing that the only thing to do, if he meant to -enjoy himself, was simply not to think of shells at all. -Of course, in twenty-four hours he had made -friends with Richards, that Leading Seaman; and the -old man could not help noticing that he flinched -whenever a big shell moaned through the air, and -burst with its horrid, rending roar. "Look here, -sir," he said; "it's just like this: don't you worry -about them—it's no use worrying. If you're meant to -be killed, killed you will be, wherever you go or -whatever you do; so just pay no attention to them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is difficult for a youngster to take comfort from -such a fatalistic conviction; but by the end of the -week the Orphan was able to tell Bubbles that he had -not "ducked" once during the last twenty-four hours. -"That shows I'm not such a duffer, doesn't it, old -chap?" he said proudly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During those first few days a good deal of -mysterious landing and embarking of troops went on, -which nobody seemed able to explain—though, as -far as anyone in the Naval Mess knew, many more -were coming than going. Also, it became known -that the new-comers were taking over—gradually—the -French section of the line, and that French troops -and guns embarked every night. The Turks -naturally knew that our men were occupying the French -trenches immediately opposite them, so that there -was no need for secrecy, and many of the French -guns were towed away from "V" beach in broad -daylight. A tug would take away a heavily loaded -lighter at the end of a very long tow-rope, and -"Asiatic Annie" and her sisters often made "towing-target" -practice at this lighter and its guns—though -without ever hitting them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan himself never went to "V" beach, -but Bubbles often did so, and found quite a good -harbour there, made by a big Messageries Maritimes -steamer sunk this side of the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span> (apparently -none the worse for her seven months of being shelled), -and an obsolete old French battleship hulk—the -</span><em class="italics">Massena</em><span>—sunk almost to close the gap between them. -Whenever the French happened to have a slack night, -most of the British nightly reinforcements (from the -9th Corps, which had been at Suvla) landed there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Christmas Day arrived, and the Turks greeted it -with a more than usually heavy shelling of both -beaches, the Sappers' and Ordnance Store Depots -suffering considerably. This, and an extra good -dinner that night—when Richards produced two -turkeys, obtained from one of the Greek islands, and -several officers contributed Christmas puddings and -mince-pies, sent from home by the Christmas mail—marked -the day. Otherwise all work went on as usual.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every now and again the French battleship </span><em class="italics">Suffren</em><span> -came along up the Straits, with her protecting -destroyers and trawlers and her "spotting" aeroplane, -and bombarded the Asiatic guns for a couple of -hours or so. At other times a British battleship -repeated the performance with even greater zest; but -though those annoying guns remained quiet whilst -they were being bombarded, they always opened a -very vigorous fire on the beaches directly the -battleships had left.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the other side of the Peninsula, round the -"left flank" coast, assisting destroyers very -frequently harassed the Turkish trenches on the Achi -Baba right flank, and a big monitor almost daily -bombarded Achi Baba or Chanak Fort with her big -14-inch guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everything went on as usual, and as though we -intended to hold the end of the Peninsula for ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everyone in the Naval Mess was far too busy -embarking and disembarking troops and stores by night, -preparing for the winter, strengthening their "dug-outs", -repairing piers, and patching damaged boats -by day, to know exactly what was happening up in -the front-line trenches. Intermittent artillery duels, -at all hours of every day, went on in the usual manner, -and without any apparent especial military object. -At night, when working on the piers, they often -heard furious bursts of rifle and machine-gun firing, -sometimes the bursting of trench bombs; at times -field-guns also used to "chip in" at night; but -everyone had become so accustomed to all this that no one -paid any attention to it or remarked about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shells fell on the beaches and above them just as -usual; 6-inch high explosives came from the Asiatic -side—two or three an hour—from daylight until two -o'clock next morning, at which time the Turkish -gunners "packed up". During the men's "stand -easy", in the middle of the day, perhaps twenty would -come along; and again, at nine o'clock at night, they -would start fairly brisk firing for three-quarters of an -hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Naval Camp, lying as it did just below the -R.E. "Park", and not far from the Ordnance Stores—both -favourite targets of "Asiatic Annie "—received -a good many of her misses, and most of the "shorts" -fell on the beach itself. By this time the men -working within this shell area had become so accustomed -and hardened to these intermittent noises of shells -shrieking towards them and bursting, that work was -seldom interrupted. At night, sentries along the beach -would watch for the glare made by the flash of the -Asiatic howitzers, and would call out "Take cover!" Eighteen -seconds afterwards the shell, if fired at "V" -beach, would burst there; but if fired at "W" beach -twenty seconds elapsed, after the warning shout, before -the shell could be heard rushing through the night -air with a rapidly increasing "swishing" noise. In -twenty-five seconds it arrived, burst with a very vivid -flash and that nerve-shaking, rending roar, and did -whatever damage it had found to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes, in the silence which followed, would be -heard the melancholy call, "Stretcher! Stretcher!" -but most frequently a hole in the ground, or a few -scattered boxes of stores or bundles of fodder, alone -marked where it had fallen and burst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From Achi Baba came the little 4.1-inch shells at -all hours of the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>People told the Orphan that some ten days after -the Belgrade-Nish-Constantinople railway had been -reopened through conquered Serbia, it became -evident that the Turks were much more lavish with their -ammunition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They must have received ample additional supplies, -and, what was still more noticeable, the new shells -nearly always burst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan gradually grew accustomed to these -shells, but he was always "mighty" glad when the -two big "hates" of the day were finished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everyone had marvellous escapes; in fact, marvellous -escapes were so common that the recounting -of them soon failed to interest others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One morning the Orphan was sleeping soundly in -the dormitory, and at about ten o'clock Bubbles, who -had somehow or other fallen overboard from his -picket-boat, ran up to shift his wet clothes, and could -not resist the temptation of waking up the Orphan. -He had just commenced to get some sense into him -and make him take an interest in his accident, when -in through the roof smashed a shell, passed between -the Orphan sitting on his bed and Bubbles standing -over him, buried itself in the ground, and burst. -Bubbles was thrown to the other side of the dormitory, -the Orphan found himself on top of an awakened and -angry R.N.R. Lieutenant, and all three, covered with -dust, dashed through the smoke out into the open air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kaiser Bill!" the Orphan cried, darted back -again, and brought out the tortoise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was under my bed, he wasn't quite buried; -he doesn't seem to have been hit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They tried anxiously to make him put out his head, -but he wouldn't. Bubbles, seizing him, looked inside -the shell. "He's all right," he said, much relieved; -"I saw his mouth move."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I bet that he got the fright of his life,", Bubbles -gurgled; and then noticed that the Orphan's wrist, -the right one, was bleeding, and that blood was coming -through his own soaked trousers. They found a small -cut on the Orphan's right wrist, and that Bubbles had -a little gash behind the left knee—quite trivial things, -only requiring a bandage round each. Actually, that -was all the damage done to those two midshipmen, -although the shell had burst immediately behind and -between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fancy what might have happened if 'Kaiser Bill' -had not been there," the superstitious Orphan, a little -"shaken", kept saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The R.N.R. Lieutenant, having fixed them up with -bandages, took them inside the dormitory to dig their -things out again and get the place tidied up. They -shook the sand and clay from their bedding; dug out -the clothes which had been lying on the floor; found -some of the fragments of the shell, probably a 4.1-inch -from Achi Baba; looked at the jagged hole in the -wooden roof; and when Bubbles, having changed his -wet clothes, went away, limping a little, to take charge -of his picket-boat again, the other two turned in and -slept until midday. Directly the Orphan woke he -hunted round for the tortoise, and felt greatly relieved -when he saw "Kaiser Bill's" cunning old head -peeping out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the next night it blew hard from the north-east—away -from the end of the Peninsula. Unfortunately -for Bubbles, he had the job, that night, of towing a -big Malta lighter, full of mules, out to a transport, -and when away from the shelter of the land something -went wrong with the tow-rope, and it fouled the screw -of his picket-boat. Both lighter and picket-boat -drifted helplessly out to sea, and eventually became -separated. It was a bitterly cold night—so dark that -you could not see fifty yards in front of you, and two -miles from the end of the Peninsula a very unpleasant -sea was running. The lighter full of mules drifted -away, but by some lucky chance stranded on Rabbit -Island, and Bubbles in his helpless, waterlogged -picket-boat had the luck to be found and picked -up by a patrolling trawler, which towed him into safety.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not get back to "W" beach until long after -daylight, and was then sent up to get his breakfast -and some sleep. For some reason or other, his bed -had been moved into the small "sleeping 'dug-out'" -at the side of the Mess opposite to the dormitory, and -almost at the same hour as the day before, a big shell -from "Asiatic Annie" came in and completely -wrecked it. No one else slept there that morning, -and he had a most marvellous escape. The three -empty beds, the wash-stands, and little stove were -destroyed, and a macintosh which he had pulled over -his blankets had several gashes torn in it, but he -himself had not a scratch. Old Richards, running in -through the Mess, and unable to see owing to the dust -and smoke, switched on an electric torch and called -out "Are you all right, sir?" never thinking that he -could possibly be alive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I woke up," said Bubbles afterwards, bubbling -over with excitement, "and found the whole place -blooming dark; everything seemed to be tumbling -down on top of me, and my hair was full of sand and -stuff. I couldn't think what was the matter, and the -smell of the place was simply beastly. It wasn't till -old Richards came in, flashed his torch, wanted to -know whether I was alive or not, and told me a shell -had come in, that I knew what had happened. It -spoilt that new macintosh I paid one pound ten for -yesterday up at the Ordnance, confound it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rest of the morning Bubbles and Richards -spent digging out his "gear". They found his -watch some two feet under the sand, still going, but -the glass cracked. The "dug-out" was completely -wrecked and quite uninhabitable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shifted back again into the dormitory, but had -no more time for sleep. "I'll stick nearer to old -'Kaiser Bill' another time," he told the Orphan, -poking fun at him and his superstitions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The very next day, when on his way to the Mess -for a hasty lunch, he stopped to speak to Richards, -the Leading Seaman, who had just come out of the -kitchen. At that moment a shell came past them, -fell through the open kitchen door, and burst inside. -Richards calmly put down the tureen of pea soup -which he was carrying, and together they went in -through the smoke to see if anyone had been injured. -One man lay dead, and another had been badly cut -about the shoulder by a splinter. He was carried -away immediately to the Casualty Clearing-station -beyond the gully, and the dead man covered up and -removed. "Poor chap!" Richards muttered, "he -only landed two hours ago for the first time. It's a -strange thing how some get picked off, sir, isn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, that's the third close shave for me—in three -days too. I'll tell the Orphan that. He'll think it -tremendously lucky," Bubbles said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shouldn't like to say that it isn't, sir," Richards -replied thoughtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These three "experiences" seemed to have absolutely -no effect on this midshipman's nerves, and the -Orphan marvelled at him, and despised himself for -hating and dreading shells so much.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>By now they had made themselves quite cosy in -their corner of the dormitory; a sand-bag was placed -over the shell hole in the roof; their beds were raised -from the ground on some planks; they looted a washstand -and a looking-glass from one of the hulks, and -had much fun digging "cupboards" for themselves -in the clay walls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kaiser Bill", too, seemed quite at home, and -enjoyed his occasional exercises on the slope below the -Mess, waking up, sprinting gaily for three or four -yards, and then sulking because nothing green grew -there. However, they managed to get him green stuff -occasionally, and in the evenings, whenever they were -off duty, they took him into the Mess after dinner, -and he became quite frisky in the warmth of the fire. -Those evenings were very jolly after a hard day's work -and a good dinner, sitting in "deck" chairs in front -of the cheerful fire, yarning, and not worrying much -about the shells which, every now and then, burst -along the ridge and made the dry "clayey" walls -shake bits down on the wooden floor—not worrying -about them, in spite of the fact that if one fell on top -of the Mess the Sub's tarpaulin and the timber roof -would not keep it out, nor would the long skylight -hatchway, taken bodily out of one of the hulks and -now fitted into the roof of the Mess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was one of their amusements to see "Kaiser Bill" -"duck" when he heard a shell burst. He might be -scampering over the floor—or the table—at the rate of -two feet a minute, with his head and neck stretched -out, or be nibbling enthusiastically at a piece of fresh -cabbage leaf or onion stalk; but directly he heard the -thud and roar of a shell bursting, however far away, -in would go his head and legs, and nothing would -entice him to put them out again for at least half an -hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles and the Orphan always placed him down -between their bunks when they turned in—for luck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Food was good and plentiful—the army cheese -simply grand; water was fairly plentiful from wells -and springs; as for the Ordnance stores, they could -supply everything from an electric torch to a stove, -from a wheelbarrow to a motor bicycle, from a pair of -trench gloves to a pair of india-rubber trench boots -coming half-way up your thigh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In fact, everything went on comfortably, and a week -after the two midshipmen had landed they had entirely -forgotten about "evacuation", and only thought it a -joke when a Turkish aeroplane dropped the message: -"Good-bye, British soldiers; we know you are going, -and are sorry to lose you".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Flies had of course disappeared with the cold -weather—disappeared long ago, and the only bothering live -things were rats—great, fat, sleek fellows, who ran -hurdle races round the dormitory at night to keep -themselves in good condition, jumping over the -sleeping midshipmen and the other officers there.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One night the Orphan met Bubbles, and saw by -his face that something unusual had occurred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it? Any news?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're sending every one of those Greek labourers[#] -away to-night. They've given them two hours to -pack up, and you and I have to embark them. What -does that mean, I wonder?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Some two hundred Greek labourers had been -employed ever since the landing, and had, for the most part, -worked well; constantly under fire.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Perhaps they've caught them spying; making -signals or getting information across to the Turks,' -the Orphan suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know; it's jolly rummy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's a lot of ammunition to be landed to-night, -some time after ten o'clock," the Sub said, joining -them. "You'll have to go out in the lighter, Orphan, -so you'll have a busy time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, just before ten o'clock, when the Orphan -had started to warp the empty lighter away from -No. 4 Pier, a messenger came down from the -N.T.O. to tell him that this ammunition was not to be landed, -and he heard afterwards that it went back to Mudros -immediately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This roused their curiosity; and when, next night, -three lieutenants and many more bluejackets arrived, -and half a dozen of those motor-lighters (the -"water-beetles") and many more picket-boats came across -from Kephalo, everyone guessed that the final -evacuation had been determined upon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, on the last day of the year, Captain Macfarlane -came to take charge of the elaborate organization -required to embark all the troops, guns, horses, and -stores without the knowledge of the Turks. He -became Senior Naval Transport Officer, and lived in his -big "dug-out" along a path cut in the cliff beyond -the Naval Mess, and known as "Park Lane" because -all the senior officers had their "dug-outs" there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub, Bubbles, and the Orphan were immensely -pleased that he had come—he had such a kind, -good-humoured way of giving orders, and nothing ever -flustered him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From now onward, there were no more troops or -stores to disembark; but the work of sending away the -enormous accumulation of stores, and of gradually -withdrawing troops, guns, horses, and mules, went on -at high pressure. This took place at night. After -dark, transports and store ships would come across -from Kephalo or Mudros, anchor off "W" beach or -"V" beach (which now had been handed over by the -French to the British), and all through the dark hours -large "soldier" working parties and the Naval beach -parties would toil, carrying down the most valuable of -the Ordnance and Sappers' and Commissariat stores, -and loading them in lighters (wooden lighters, which -had to be towed, or motor-lighters). When full, -these would be sent off to the store ships, unloaded, -and sent back again. Every night a troop-carrier -would come slowly alongside the "Outer Hulk", -make fast, and battalions of infantry, with their -baggage and their maxims, would be taken across -to her in motor-lighters from No. 3 Pier. Every -night, too, many horses and many mules went off to -the big transports anchored farther out, and were -hoisted on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An hour and a half before dawn, every steamship, -transport, and troop-carrier had to be away and out -of sight; and if, as the time for departure arrived, any -still had half-emptied lighters alongside, tugs would -dash out and bring them back. Nothing whatever -was allowed to delay these big ships, because upon -their arrival and departure being absolutely hidden -from the Turks the whole success of the operation -depended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At one time, before the first of those south-west -gales had broken a gap in No. 1 Pier, it had been -possible to walk along it, then up a gangway on board -the "Inner Hulk", and from her to the "Outer -Hulk", and so on board anything lying alongside -her. This had made the embarking and disembarking -of troops a very simple and rapid process; and as -simplicity and rapidity would be so necessary on the -last night of the evacuation, attempts were made to -bridge the gap. The Orphan took part in this, -working in the day-time under the orders of the -Pier-master, a Naval lieutenant named Armstrong, a great -solid man who always spoke extremely deliberately, -weighing every syllable, and never appearing to get -even mildly excited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>First of all a big pontoon was wedged in the gap, -but did not quite fill it; the vacant intervals were then -closed by means of barrels lashed stoutly together -and held in place by wires and hawsers. If anything -did go wrong, Mr. Armstrong would fill his pipe and -say: "I say—my—blooming—oath—you—blokes— -will—have—to—reeve—another—pretty—big—wire—there"; -or, "I—say—Orpen—we—shall—have—to— -lay—out—another—anchor—go—round—and—find— -a—thundering—big—chap".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When at last these were all fixed to his liking, a -broad wooden gangway platform was laid over all, -between the broken-away ends of the gap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This business occupied two whole days, during -which time the Orphan had generally more wet clothes -than dry. "If—you—don't—take—care—you'll—get -—your—feet—wet," Mr. Armstrong told him one day, -after he had been wading up to his waist in the shallow -water, on and off for an hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Troops now could march straight on board the -"Inner Hulk", then across to the "Outer Hulk", -and so to whatever troop-carrier happened to be -alongside her. This naturally relieved the congestion at -No. 2 and No. 3 Piers, from which horses and stores -were embarked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the job which the Orphan liked best was down -at No. 4 Pier, working with the Sub and a very energetic -warrant officer, getting off guns, motor-lorries, -motor field-workshops, "caterpillar" traction engines, -and motor ambulances.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before dark they would get a couple of lighters -alongside this pier, make them fast to the wall, then -dash up to the Mess for a rapid dinner, and down again -about an hour after dark, when the guns would -commence to come rumbling down the ridge to the -beach—field-guns, stumpy howitzers, and long 60-pounders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Horse teams or "caterpillar" tractors dragged -them through the sand to just above No. 4 Pier, -unhitched, and left them there with their "crews". -Then the beach party on the pier would make "fast" -hook-ropes, and hauling on them, whilst the artillerymen -man-handled the spokes of gun and limber -wheels, along would come the gun and its limber, -jolting aboard the lighter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One after the other the guns would be coaxed -aboard until the lighter could hold no more. Then -the artillerymen, picking up their rifles and kits, -would scramble on board, squat down between the gun -wheels, cling on to the spokes, stow themselves away -anywhere so long as they did not get in the way of the -lighter's crew, who now hauled on a warp-rope, made -"fast" to the end of No. 3 Pier, and warped the -heavily laden lighter away from the wall of No. 4 Pier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A picket-boat, waiting there, would get hold of her, -and tow her out to the plucky and beautifully handled -little tug T1. Then away she would be towed by -that tug to search for the transport which had -anchored off Cape Helles after dark. Presently the -big ship would loom up, the lighter would be towed -alongside, made "fast" under a derrick, and left -there to unload. If any very heavy guns, or heavy, -cumbrous things such as motor-lorries or "caterpillar" -tractors, went off, the Sub or the Gunner -always took charge of the lighter; but if the load -consisted of field-guns, or such things as "general -service" wagons, he sent the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was just the job the Orphan enjoyed—the -taking charge of the soldier officers and their artillerymen, -the warping off from No. 4 Pier, the tow-out in -the darkness of those very dark nights, the job of -getting his lighter safely secured to the big ship, and -the delicate business of safely slinging each gun and -limber or wagon to the ship's derrick "purchase". -The purchase would be lowered with its great hook, -the slings of one gun slipped over it, the Orphan -would shout "Hoist away!" and whilst that gun -dangled overhead in the dark, would busily secure -the slings to the next, so that time should not be -wasted when the purchase-hook came down again. -It sometimes took a couple of hours to unload a -lighter, but this depended entirely upon the officers -and crew of the transport ship. One ship—the </span><em class="italics">Queen -Louise</em><span>—would do the work in half the time which -some others occupied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan always felt so happy when the last -wagon or the last gun of any particular load had been -hoisted out of the lighter. It was so grand to know -that "that little lot" would not fall into the hands of -the Turks. Best of all, it was such fun to be -hoodwinking "the old Turk" all this while.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Generally, from the time a loaded lighter shoved -off from No. 4 Pier until she returned alongside, -empty, at least two hours had elapsed, and as it often -took an hour—sometimes a good deal more—to load -up again, each lighter seldom made more than two -trips a night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Practically all this work went on in complete -darkness. There was no moonlight, and the only lights -allowed to be shown were small oil-lamps, one on -each pier, and one on the far end of the "Outer Hulk". -Fortunately, what breeze blew during the first nine -nights came from the north-east, and did not interfere -with the work; on most of these nights the air was -absolutely still and the sea absolutely calm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before leaving off work in the morning, they would -see that any guns remaining on the beach or in the -lighters were carefully covered up with tarpaulins, so -that the Turks could not see them from their inquisitive -aeroplanes, which constantly came circling over, -trying to find out what the British really intended to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, perhaps at half-past seven in the morning, -thoroughly worn out, probably nearly wet through, -back they would drag themselves up to the Mess, find -Richards always ready for them with cocoa or coffee, -bacon, sometimes eggs, and have their breakfast. -Afterwards they would "turn in".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My perishing Orphan!" the Sub would say, as -he threw himself on his bed. "That's not a bad -night's work—twelve guns, and any number of -wagons and things. But I'm pretty well fagged out, -and you look 'done to a turn'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They would sleep till the middle of the day, get up, -wash, have lunch, and probably go to sleep again till -four or half-past. Then a good "high tea" Richards -would provide for them; and, after that, all those who -were on night duty—nearly all in fact—gathered in -the Mess, smoked and yarned, and told how things -were "going"—how many troops, how many guns, -how many horses and mules, and how much stores -had been safely sent away the night before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everyone knew and felt that every man, every gun, -horse or mule, every motor-lorry, every ton of stores -and ammunition sent off was so much to the good; -and everyone—especially as the day for the final -evacuation drew nearer—grew anxious lest the Turks -should find out what was happening, and lest the -gentle north-east breeze should give place to a -south-westerly wind, which would drive seas against the -different beaches, and delay—perhaps fatally -delay—the final embarkation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was always the chance of this, and of the -two or three thousand last troops to come marching -back from the empty trenches being hotly pressed by -the Turks, and of them and the whole of the beach -parties finding it impossible to get off. To the Orphan, -and to many more; it also seemed so absolutely -unbelievable that the Turks could be deceived again; and -they thought that they must really know about what -was going on, and were only waiting until the trenches -were so weakly held that they could make a successful -assault, drive all that remained down to the sea, and -capture them.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-evacuation-of-cape-helles"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Evacuation of Cape Helles</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Friday morning, the 7th January, came, and the -Turks had given no sign whatever that they guessed -what was going on. Shells burst as usual, and -"Cuthbert", the aeroplane, circled overhead, saw -what he could, dropped a few bombs on the ridge -above "W" beach and near the old </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>, and -went home again before our own pursuing aeroplanes -could catch him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At two o'clock that afternoon the Turks commenced -a fierce bombardment of the whole front-line trenches. -The Asiatic guns tried to enfilade them, too, and for -nearly three hours every gun they possessed blazed -away for all it was worth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The few guns we had remaining did their utmost to -conceal the smallness of their numbers by the rapidity -of their fire, though, naturally, everyone imagined -that the Turks must realize how few they were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At five o'clock the Turks evidently intended to -storm the front which they had battered so severely, -but, except on our extreme left, their men could not -be induced to leave their trenches.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But here some five or six hundred did advance, and, -unfortunately for them, came in full view of a -battleship which had but lately come out from England, -fearfully keen to fire her guns, and now happened to be -zigzagging along the coast, attracted by the continual -roar of the Turkish artillery. Eagerly looking for -something to fire at, she saw, all at once, these poor -devils of Turks streaming out of their trenches across -open ground, and let go salvo after salvo into the -middle of them. Not two hundred came anywhere -near our thinly held trenches; some twenty reached -them, and were promptly bayoneted; perhaps a dozen -got back to their own. After this no further attack -was made, and all firing died down at dusk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The "last night but one" commenced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All night long the work went on; more troops -(after their nerve-shaking experience of that -afternoon's three hours' bombardment) marched down -with their baggage and their maxims, filed along -No. 1 Pier across the "hulks" into the </span><em class="italics">Ermine</em><span> and -other troop-carriers, and were taken away. Many of -the still remaining guns came back and were sent off -from No. 4 Pier; very many horses were embarked -from No. 3 Pier; and soldiers, like ants, streamed -backwards and forwards between the beach and those -store depots, bringing down stores and hurrying back -for more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All night long the Orphan listened with tingling -ears for the sound of anything more than the customary -sniping and passing bursts of nervous rifle-firing. -But the Turks had had a sufficiently severe handling -in the afternoon; they made no attempt to attack, and -the night passed absolutely quietly, daylight on -Saturday morning coming with everything going on just as -usual. The troop-carriers, horse-transports, and store -ships were long since hidden in Kephalo, or below the -horizon on their way to Mudros; and though the -aeroplane came over to reconnoitre and be driven home -again, there was nothing unusual for it to report.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Exactly how many troops remained or how many -guns, neither Bubbles nor the Orphan knew; but they -did know that the very scantiest number of troops held -the first-line trenches, and that the guns could almost -be counted on fingers and toes. All these troops -had to be got off that night, and almost all the guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would the weather hold for the last night?" That -was what everyone asked himself. The sun rose -behind Achi Baba not quite so clearly as it had done -throughout the past week, but the breeze still blew -gently from the north-east, and hardly a cloud flecked -the blue sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane, tugging at his pointed beard, -looked satisfied, and went up to his "dug-out" for -breakfast and to turn in, after his all-night's work, -and sleep for a few hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles, who had spent the night at "V" beach in -his picket-boat, pulled the sleepy Orphan along the -path to the Mess. "What d'you think I had last -night? A bath—a hot bath—aboard the </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>! -It was the last drop of hot water she had aboard her, -for a shell came in half an hour before and cut a -steam-pipe or something. Wasn't I lucky?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had this their last breakfast in Gallipoli, and -then lay down on their beds and slept.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At midday they were called, turned out—horribly -sleepy—and began to roll up their bedding and pack -up the rest of their "gear", ready to be taken down to -the beach. Most of the officers spent the morning -doing the same.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The barometer had now begun to fall—ever so -slightly—-and some clouds to gather in the west, low -down in the horizon, behind the island of Tenedos.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everyone felt a little anxious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At three o'clock in the afternoon the breeze definitely -shifted round to the south-west—the dangerous -quarter—and all knew that if it increased much it would -drive seas right on to the beaches, and add -tremendously to the difficulties of this last night's -work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At five o'clock that afternoon many of the officers -gathered in the Mess, which they were leaving for -ever, and drank to the success of the evacuation. -"Kaiser Bill" was taken out of his box, placed on -the table, and drank a little milk out of a saucer for -"good luck"; then Bubbles took him away to his -picket-boat to make certain that he would not be left -behind, </span><em class="italics">whatever happened</em><span>; and everybody went down -to the beach and their different jobs, looking -doubtfully and anxiously at the sun setting behind a -gloomy bank of clouds, and the little "white horses" -which already ruffled the surface of the sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be all right," the Orphan told the Sub -confidently as they walked down to No. 4 Pier. "If -"Kaiser Bill" hadn't drunk his milk we might have -been rather miserable."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> a silly ass," the Sub laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Night fell. The breeze freshened steadily, and the -two lighters alongside No. 4 Pier already banged -up against the stone wall in a very uncomfortable -manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently some of those remaining guns began -rumbling over the ridge to the beach, and their teams -went round to No. 3 Pier, or cantered back over the -ridge, with a jangle of harness and thudding of hoofs, -to fetch more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the first lighter had been loaded—with -field-guns mostly—her crew hauled her off by the warps, -the south-west breeze blowing freshly in their faces, -and the little waves already splashing against her -bows. A picket-boat took hold of her and handed her -over to tug T1, which towed her away to sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan went with this first load, and found it -a very different matter to-night. Though the breeze -had not yet attained any great strength, a slight, -lumpy sea and swell ran, outside, and when he at -last reached the transport's huge side he had much -difficulty in bringing the clumsy, heavily loaded -lighter alongside and making her "fast". As it was, -she bumped and rose and fell so much that it took -nearly two hours to hoist out all those guns, and their -"crews", laden with their heavy kits, and most of -them sea-sick, could hardly climb the awkward Jacob's -ladders dangling down the ship's dark side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last the lighter was cleared, and the tug, lurching -out of the darkness, brought off the Gunner with -another heavily laden lighter, left him alongside, and -towed the Orphan back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now nearly eleven o'clock; the breeze had -become a strong wind, and meeting the current flowing -out of the Dardanelles, raised an angry, steep sea. -This immensely increased the difficulties of handling -the motor-lighters, steamboats, and small tugs which -simply swarmed off "W" beach and its piers. The -clumsy motor-lighters were a danger to themselves and -a terror to others, for they often refused to answer -their helms when they left the lee of the sunken hulks -and their bows first met the seas. It required much -skilful seamanship for the steamboats to get hold of -them in the pitchy darkness and turn them in the -right way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan found more guns waiting to be taken -off, and he was about to commence to haul them on -board his lighter when an order came that they were -to be destroyed where they stood. Some Sappers -arrived, and began fixing gun-cotton charges in them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are the last of the guns to be sent off," said -the officer in charge of them. "It does seem rough -luck, doesn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What was it like when you left?" asked the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perfectly quiet; that was an hour ago," he told him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan had nothing to do now but wait for -further orders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was so much wind blowing inshore, towards -the trenches, that though he strained his ears he could -not hear the sound of the usual sniping, rifle-firing—in -fact he could hear nothing from the direction of the -trenches. Every now and then a momentary flash -showed out behind the ridge on the Asiatic shore, -and one of "Asiatic Annie's" shells came along; -to-night they nearly all burst on the ridge close to -Cape Helles lighthouse, and absolutely harmlessly. -Occasionally a big monitor, half-way across the -Straits, fired a 12-inch gun, and then everything -round "W" beach, and the white tents above it, -were lighted up momentarily—like the click of a -camera shutter—and the Orphan would catch a sudden -glimpse of motor-lighters and picket-boats, horses -and men, on No. 3 Pier, perhaps long lines of troops -coming down the road from the ridge, or a motor-lorry -or motor-ambulance coming down to the beach. -Then the blackness shut down again, except for the -tiny flicker of the oil-lamp tied to a post at one corner -of the pier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan passed this time of waiting talking to -the disappointed Gunner officer, who told him yarns -of yesterday's fierce bombardment, and said how -annoyed they had been when that battleship had wiped -out their beautiful "target" of advancing Turks. -"You'll hear, all right, if the Turks do get into our -trenches to-night, after our chaps have left them," he -said. "They are all mined, and most of the -communication trenches too. There will be the most -infernal noise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then out of the darkness came Captain Macfarlane -and the Sub. The Orphan heard the Captain say: -"All right, you can try and take those guns off. If -you can't manage it, blow them up in the lighter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he was sent round to No. 1 Pier to find out -why two motor-lighters could not get off. He -scrambled along the beach, past the end of No. 3 -Pier, where a large number of gun- and limber-teams -were waiting to embark in lighters—the horses -waiting much more patiently and quietly than "humans" -would have done—and then past a regiment which -had just marched in from the trenches, most of the -men lying down to relieve the weight of their heavy -packs. The Orphan guessed correctly that most of -these packs had a Turkish shell—or two—in them as -"curios".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the time he reached No. 1 Pier and found -Mr. Armstrong, things were in a bad way. Two crowded -motor-lighters lay there, lashed side by side, bumping -uneasily, and the new platform over the pontoon and -those barrels which filled the gap in it was swaying -and creaking in a most unpleasant manner, waves -thudding against it every moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Curse—the—lighters—curse—everything!" swore -the Lieutenant, pronouncing each syllable very -deliberately, and without the faintest trace of excitement. -"The—whole—show—will—go—in—a—minute— -barrels—pontoon—and—lighters—as—well. One— -of—the—con-founded—lighters—can't—start—her— -engines—and—the—other—one—has—smashed—hers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Captain is sending a tug in to help," the -Orphan shouted loudly—one had to shout because of -the creaking and grinding of the pontoon and barrels, -the noise of the wind and waves, and the bumping of -the motor-lighters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then a tug did back gingerly in, passed a tow-rope -aboard the lighters, and started to tow them out; but -the rope "parted" as it took the strain, and the two -crowded motor-lighters, catching an eddy of the -strong wind and current, began drifting helplessly -back again on to the damaged pier. In another -half-minute they would have been hopelessly crushed -against it; but, in the nick of time, the engine of -one of them took it into its head to start, and just -managed to move the two of them sufficiently to give -the tug a chance of getting hold of them and towing -them out to sea and safety.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My—blooming—oath!" said Mr. Armstrong; -"that—was—a—near—thing," and he sucked hard at -his pipe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A man, coming from the "Inner Hulk" over the -straining pontoon, shouted to him: "A destroyer has -just made 'fast' inside the 'Outer Hulk', sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All—right; I'll—send—the—troops—along. -Go—along—and—fetch—'em," he told the Orphan; -"those—blokes—sitting—along—the—thundering—beach. -Tell—'em—to—thundering—well—get—a -—move—on—if—they—don't—want—to—be—left—behind. -Con-found—this—pipe!" As the Orphan -darted away he heard the rending sound of timber -cracking and ropes "parting". He found some -officers; they passed the "word" along; gave orders, -and No. 1 Company of that battalion rose to their -feet, picked up their rifles, and commenced to straggle -down to the pier. As the Orphan and the first of -them reached it, there came a loud crashing of -smashing woodwork, loud shouts of "She's carried away, -sir!" people came running back from where the -pontoon had been; and Mr. Armstrong, walking slowly -up to him, said: "The—thundering—thing's—carried -—away—al-to-gether. It's—the—very—devil. -Go—and—tell—the—N.-T.-O. See—if—you—can—find— -me—a—bit—of—wire—my—pipe's—choked."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Back went the Orphan to No. 4 Pier, but Captain -Macfarlane was not there, nor at No. 3 Pier. -Someone took him to the new office "dug-out" at the top -of the beach; and there he found him, sitting at a -table with an oil-lamp hanging above it, smoking -a cigarette, tugging at his beard, and looking quaintly -amused at a number of officers who were all asking -him questions at the same time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan wriggled his way through them, and -burst out with: "The 'barrel pier' has gone, -sir—washed away!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How very annoying, Mr. Orpen; very annoying -indeed!" he said, smiling grimly. "We shall have -to send the soldiers off from No. 3 Pier. Go down -and tell the pier-master to embark them on the two -'stand-by' motor-lighters, and tell Mr. Armstrong to -go down and help him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, noticing that the lamp was hanging -by a piece of wire, thought that there might be some -more somewhere about, looked round, and saw a piece -lying under the table—just what Mr. Armstrong -would like. He picked it up, and was just wriggling -his way out again when the Captain wanted to know -what he was doing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Armstrong's pipe is choked, sir, and I saw -this bit of wire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me! dear me!" smiled the Captain. "Misfortunes -never come singly; do they, Mr. Open?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir," said the Orphan, not knowing what else -to say, and dashed off; found the Pier-master—another -Naval Lieutenant—and gave his message. Then he -went off with his piece of wire to clear Mr. Armstrong's -pipe, and tell him to go down to No. 3 Pier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All—right—hold—this—thundering—megaphone— -whilst—I—clean—my—pipe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At No. 3 Pier these latest arrived troops were -already marching down into the "stand-by" motor-lighters, -with a scuffling of tired feet, a clatter of rifle-butts, -and the continual, monotonous, weary sound of -"Form two deep! Form two deep!" as more infantry -neared the shore end of the pier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were tired and dirty and trench-stained, and -they cursed as they stumbled against each other in -the dark, but they were very cheerful. As soon as -one lighter had taken as many as she could hold, she -shoved off, and grunted and snorted across to the -"Outer Hulk".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nip over there; jump into that steamboat," the -Pier-master called out. "Find out how many more -men that destroyer can take."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan jumped down into a picket-boat lying -alongside, and found Bubbles there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he took him across to the destroyer, the Orphan -asked him what he had been doing all night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Generals, and their Staffs," Bubbles shouted -happily. "You've no idea what a lot of trouble I've -had with them. Some of them have actually started -giving me orders. I've 'told 'em off' properly. They -get quite tame then. I've taken some off from 'V' -beach as well; everything's going on well down there. -This sea running in is pretty beastly, isn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan climbed up the destroyer's side, and -found her deck crammed with soldiers. He pushed -his way up to the fore bridge, and heard her Captain -yelling down to the men on the "Outer Hulk": "Get -some more fenders along. Slack off that hawser." He -was told that "If you don't 'get out of it' in a 'brace -of shakes' you'll get a sea-passage, for nothing. I'm -just going to shove off out of it. I can't take another -soldier, and I'll stove my side in if I stay here much -longer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan went back to the steamboat, across to -the pier, and reported that the destroyer was just -shoving off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can see that for myself," grumbled the Pier-master, -as a flash from the monitor's gun suddenly -showed the destroyer backing out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This same flash also showed a heavily-laden lighter -being warped off from No. 4 Pier, so the Orphan -knew that the Sub had managed to start his journey -with those last guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then two teams of horses came jangling down to -the pier unexpectedly, and the irritated Pier-master -sent Bubbles to try and find a horse-boat or lighter -alongside the "Inner Hulk". He came back with -one; was nearly run down by another destroyer; got -it alongside. Those twelve horses walked down into -it as if they knew all about the business, and the very -last horse to be taken off from "W" beach was towed -away into the darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane came down and told them that -he had received a telephone message from -Headquarters Office that the trenches had been finally -evacuated, and the covering brigades withdrawn. -"Everything IS absolutely quiet up there," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan and Bubbles were greatly excited at -that news. They tried to picture these last troops -stealthily creeping out of their long line of -trenches—extending from Ghurka Bluff and the Nullah, across -the plain in front of Krithia, along the lower slopes -of Achi Baba, and across and along the ravines past -Sedd-el-Bahr—coming down the communication -trenches, treading softly, and not making a sound, -expecting all the time that Turkish patrols would -give the alarm, and that the Turks would only be -waiting for that moment to light the plain with star -shells and rush down on them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We should hear the mines blow up, anyway," the -Orphan said, as both snotties stood and listened, -hearing nothing but the howling of the wind and the -lapping of the waves, and the bumping of the -picket-boat against the pier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must be exciting for them," Bubbles said, -bubbling with excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After having secured several empty motor-lighters -alongside, in readiness to embark the last troops, -there was nothing to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have—a—sand-wich?" said Mr. Armstrong, -producing a bulky package which Richards had -prepared for him. They ate them sitting on the top of -the picket-boat's cabin, as she bobbed and bumped -against the side of the pier. Mr. Armstrong told them -that one of the Generals coming down was a cousin -of his named Bailey, and that if he did come down -to this pier he wasn't to go off without seeing him. -General Bailey had a brother who had been a Sub -in charge of a gun-room when Mr. Armstrong was a -midshipman in it. "A—thundering—good—chap," -Mr. Armstrong said. "He—used—to—beat—me— -thundering—hard—have—an-other—sandwich."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the sandwiches were finished, the Orphan -had to go up to the Captain's beach office. The Senior -Military Landing Officer, rather upset about -something, was talking nervously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Mr. Orpen, there are some men who can't -be taken off from Gully Beach, round by the left -flank, on account of the heavy sea," the Captain said -calmly. "They are starting to march this way. Go -down and tell the Pier-master and Mr. Armstrong -to collect as many empty motor-lighters as -possible. Come back here when you have given this -message."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he returned, the Captain gave him a signal -to take up to the temporary "wireless" station, a little -way along the top of the cliff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You had better hurry," he said, good-humouredly, -looking at his watch, "if you really don't mind, or -they'll be packed up before you get there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan dashed off up the main road, and then -along the branch path to where he knew the -"wireless" station had been "put up".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're just in time," the Naval Lieutenant in -charge of it said; "I was just going to give the order -to 'pack up'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here!" he shouted to the operator. "Call up -those two destroyers; they'll be wanted to come -alongside the 'Outer Hulk'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The N.T.O. says you can pack up when you get -those signals through, sir," the Orphan said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right; those destroyers will have the deuce of -a time getting alongside if the wind goes on increasing -as it's been doing for the last half-hour," the -Lieu-tenant said. "What d'they want 'em for? anything -gone wrong?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan told him, and as he turned back he -ran into some soldiers carrying heavy square tins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you doing?" he asked one of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Going off to soak the stores with petrol," he said, -and hurried on up to the Ordnance Depot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down the main road were now coming the first of -the "covering parties"—some of the men who had -actually stayed in the trenches till the last moment, -many of them limping heavily, most of them talking -cheerily. Some had maxim guns on their shoulders, -others carried the tripod-stands, others maxim -belt-boxes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which way for the Margate steamer?" a Cockney -voice called out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turn to your right when you get on the beach," -the Orphan shouted as he passed them; and the same -voice called back: "Hi, Guv'nor! I've lost me return -ticket. I ain't got no money, and I don't want to be -left behind—I ain't 'ankering after a trip to -Constantinople."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tired men began to laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The midshipman found Captain Macfarlane in his -office, and told him that these men were coming down. -He went out and stood at the top of the beach as they -went past, their feet scrunching on the stones and -shuffling through the sand as they marched down to -No. 3 Pier, straight aboard the motor-lighters waiting -for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A little officer came past, walking with a very tall one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that General Bailey?" called Captain Macfarlane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo, Macfarlane! I knew your voice," he -replied, stopping.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything all right?" asked the Captain; and the -Orphan remembered that this was Mr. Armstrong's -cousin, and listened eagerly for what the General, who -had just gone through this terribly anxious time, had -to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A pipeful of ship's tobacco, and I should be a -happy man," was what he actually did say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know where I can get some, sir," the Orphan -interrupted. "Mr. Armstrong has plenty down at -No. 3 Pier."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's a picket-boat waiting for you there, -General. Mr. Orpen will show you the way. -Everything all quiet when you left?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything. The Turks haven't stirred from their -trenches; have hardly fired a shot all night. We've -brought everyone back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan piloted the General and his Staff Officer -through the crowd of men round No. 3 Pier, and found -Mr. Armstrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"General Bailey, sir; he wants a pipeful of ship's -tobacco," he said, and left them there; hearing -Mr. Armstrong's funny drawl: "You're—a—sort—of -—cousin—of—mine—sir—your—brother—in—the— -Navy—used—to—beat—me—thundering—hard—a— -thundering—good—chap—take—the—whole— -blessed—pouchful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bubbles!" the Orphan called, as he found the -picket-boat, "I've brought you another General."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put him down below in the cabin with 'Kaiser -Bill'," Bubbles sang out laughingly. "What 'Kaiser -Bill' doesn't know about looking after Generals isn't -worth knowing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wind by now had increased to almost the force -of a gale, and a most unpleasant sea was swirling in -through the gap in No. 1 Pier—where the pontoon -had been—and round and between the ends of the -sunken "hulks". In spite of this, those "covering -parties" were safely taken off; the clumsy -motor-lighters pushed and shoved out past the "Outer -Hulk" by tugs and picket-boats, and then there was -nothing much to do until those men marching back -from the left flank and Gully Beach arrived. The -Orphan was sent with some of the beach party to -bring down the "gear" from the "wireless" station, -and when he came back he found a white-painted -hospital motor-lighter alongside No. 3 Pier. The Army -doctor in charge had asked to be given an opportunity -of trying to save the most valuable of the surgical -stores still left in the Casualty Clearing-stations, and -now was up there with nearly a hundred R.A.M.C. orderlies, -bringing down cases of surgical instruments -and expensive apparatus as fast as they could. They -had already filled two big ambulance wagons, and -man-handled them down on to the beach, and -everyone was helping to unload them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a matter of fact, the last night of the evacuation -had gone off so smoothly, in spite of the unfortunate -change of weather, that people hardly realized that -the original scheme had been drafted under the -impression that the "covering parties" would probably -have to fight their way back. The maxims in the -picket-boats had been placed in them so that the -picket-boats should try and cover the embarkation of -those last few people who would rush down to the -beach; the white-painted hospital lighter was there to, -if possible, take off any wounded who could crawl or -hobble to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the complete absence of any interference by the -Turks this fact had been almost forgotten.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sapper working-parties, who had been sprinkling -petrol over the Ordnance and Commissariat stores, -now began to return, and set to work with pick-axes -to smash the engines of some motor-lorries which had -to be left behind, and rip their tyres to shreds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan having nothing whatever to do, and -feeling very tired, wandered down to No. 3 Pier and -found Bubbles and his picket-boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, Bubbles, got anything to eat?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bubbles had. He produced a packet of sandwiches -out of a haversack, and the crew brought the two of -them a bowl of hot cocoa. They sat on the top of the -picket-boat's cabin, and whilst they were munching -away happily, they heard someone singing out: "'Ave -you seen Mr. Orpen about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Plunky Bill's voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello! What d'you want?" the Orphan called; -"I'm here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Plunky Bill came aboard. "Beg pardon, sir; I -thought as 'ow you and t'other young gen'l'man could -do with a couple of army macintoshes. I've just -'appened to come across two;" and he added -confidentially: "If you'd like any more, I knows where I -might be able to lay me 'ands on 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where did you get them?" they asked; but -Plunky Bill only told them that "he'd been looking -round a bit". "I'll just stick 'em alongside 'Kaiser -Bill', and then they'll be safe. You'll find a couple -of them there 'lectric torches in the pockets."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever else have you got?" Bubbles laughed, -seeing that he was bulged out with things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothin' much, sir; nothin' but a few pairs of them -injy-rubber trench boots, sir. It do seem such a -shame to leave 'em for the Turks, and they'll come in -'andy on board."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He put these boots down below under the forepeak, -and went away again, towards the beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That makes up for the macintosh spoilt by -that shell the other day," Bubbles said. "They're -jolly good things; you can wear them in plain -clothes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They did think of calling him back and asking, him -to bring down some more for the rest of the gun-room, -but a picket-boat came lurching alongside with the -Sub in it, and in their eagerness to know whether he -had managed to get off the last of those guns they -forgot about macintoshes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're half-way to Mudros by this time," the -Sub shouted happily. "I'm off to tell the Skipper. -What's the delay? What are we waiting for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They told him of the men from the left flank, and -away he went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At about three o'clock the first destroyer came -alongside the "Outer Hulk" and made fast. This -would have been a difficult job in daylight, on account -of the heavy sea which was running, the strong wind, -a very strong current swirling down from the -Dardanelles, the very limited space for manoeuvring, and -the dangerous proximity of the lee shore. In the -pitchy darkness of the night it was ten times as difficult.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thank goodness, just about this time, the first of -those men began to tramp down the road from the -ridge, footsore and weary after their long and anxious -march—long march, that is, for men who had spent -so many weeks continually in trenches. The Orphan -helped to guide them down to No. 3 Pier, and they -limped into the waiting motor-lighters, and were -taken across to the destroyer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By a quarter to four, not a single soldier remained -on the Gallipoli Peninsula except a Sapper "demolition" -party busy setting fire to the petrol-soaked -stores, and waiting to ignite the fuses which should -blow up the magazines containing all the ammunition -and explosives which had to be abandoned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By four o'clock these Sappers had come back to the -beach and embarked aboard a motor-lighter. The -whole circle of the ridge above "W" beach and the -slopes of the gully now began to flicker with little -flames, and in an incredibly short time the strong -wind fanned them until the whole place was a mass -of roaring, crackling fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane, the few of his officers who had -not yet gone off, and a few of his men, now collected -at the end of No. 3 Pier, alongside which lay two -steamboats and that white-painted motor-lighter laden -with medical and surgical stores, a few injured men -(including two soldiers with sprained ankles—actually -the two last men to come down to "W" beach), and -some R.A.M.C. orderlies. Bubbles, with his last load -of military officers, with "Kaiser Bill" and the two -macintoshes, had already gone out to sea, and was -steaming across to Kephalo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those flames lighted up the whole of "W" beach -in the most extraordinary manner, and everything all -round was visible—the little group on the pier, the -stones on the beach, a white-tilted ambulance wagon -with its Red Cross, half-way down the beach, the broad -road running up between the huge masses of flame, -the white hospital tents, an abandoned motor-lorry -with its engines destroyed and its tyres hacked to -pieces, the white stones which marked the boundary -of the Naval Camp, and even the two "cuttings" -which led to the Naval Mess "dug-out". Out by -the "hulks" some of those last soldiers could be -seen still scrambling aboard the destroyer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane gave the order for the hospital-lighter -to shove off, and for everyone to embark, so -the Sub, the Orphan, Mr. Armstrong, and many -more crowded into one of those steamboats and started -away. The time was now about ten minutes past -four, and before they had gone a hundred yards the -magazine on shore blew up. It contained all the -explosives which it had not been possible to take off, -and made the most earth-rending, stupendous noise, -sending up a huge mass of flame like a volcano, and -flaming masses flew gyrating and twisting like huge -gigantic Chinese crackers high up into the sky and -spreading far and wide in every direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My—blooming—oath—what—price—that—for—fireworks!" -drawled Mr. Armstrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep down! Keep down!" people shouted, as -masses of rock came splashing into the water all round -the steamboat, but none hit her; and as she turned -round the end of the "Outer Hulk", on the inner side -of which the destroyer and several motor-lighters -still lay, crowded with troops, and faced the sea, the -Orphan saw the other steamboat following, with -Captain Macfarlane and the rest of his officers and -men, and the white hospital lighter struggling out, -with the water splashing up all round her, just as -though she were under a heavy fire. A tremendous -crackle of musketry broke out from the beach, and for -a moment the Orphan thought that the Turks had -come down to the ridge at last; but a Sapper officer -in the boat told him that this was only the abandoned -small-arm ammunition exploding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane, passing them in his steamboat, -sent them back to assist the hospital lighter if -necessary; but she managed to make her way out safely, so -in a few minutes they followed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another destroyer waited for them outside; they -saw her, steamed alongside, and climbed aboard with -some difficulty owing to the heavy sea. The huge -blaze on shore lighted up every face, and the first -person the Orphan recognized was Dr. Gordon, the -Volunteer Surgeon of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We've just had some pieces of rock fall on board," -he said, "but no one is hurt. How about you? They -were falling all round your boat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you doing here, sir?" the Orphan asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They've sent a doctor to every destroyer to-night. -Thank God, everyone has got off safely! You go -and lie down; you look absolutely 'played out'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We got off all the men and the last guns—the -very last they intended to take off," the Orphan said. -"Isn't that grand?" But he would not go and lie down. -He stood watching the flames and the destroyer -silhouetted against them, as she backed out to let another -take her place and empty the remaining motor-lighters. -The motor-lighters came out and headed into the -heavy sea; the destroyer backed out and went ahead -into safety, and the last that the Orphan saw was a -solitary little picket-boat pushing her way in towards -No. 3 Pier and the flames, to make a final search for -anyone left there, and then coming out again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now about a quarter to five in the morning, -and the marvellous evacuation had been successfully -completed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Orphan staggered aft, crawled below, -almost fell on to one of the leather cushions down in -the ward-room, and went fast asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Gordon, coming down a few minutes later, -found him there, and felt his clothes. They were wet -through, so he pulled a couple of blankets off a bunk -and covered him up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time there were very few of the beach party -or its officers who had not found somewhere to stretch -themselves and go to sleep. The strain of those last -ten days and nights had been very great—fourteen -hours of hard work day and night for most of them; -for some a great deal more—and even the Sub, strong -as he was, could not have "stood" many more such -days and nights without a rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the destroyer they were aboard had not finished -her job. She and a cruiser now had to shepherd -every tug, motor-lighter, trawler, and steamboat safely -on its way across to Kephalo—especially those -troublesome motor-lighters, which behaved so badly in a -heavy sea. She went up the Straits, past "V" beach, -where the fires blazing there showed up the castle -walls of Sedd-el-Bahr and the poor old </span><em class="italics">River Clyde</em><span>; -steamed up as far as Morto Bay to see that no craft of -any kind had been left behind; and it was not until -nearly seven o'clock, and after the Turks had been -shelling the beaches for nearly two hours, both from -Achi Baba and the Asiatic shore, that she started -away for Kephalo. By eight o'clock she ran into -that crowded harbour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had left for Mudros several days -previously, and thither Dr. Gordon, the Sub, Bubbles, -the Orphan, and "Kaiser Bill" followed her late that -afternoon in the troop-carrier </span><em class="italics">Ermine</em><span>. As this plucky -little steamer passed Cape Tekke and Cape Helles the -fires still raged, and a cruiser, a monitor, and two -destroyers were bombarding the shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the Orphan looked his last at Gallipoli -Peninsula, as the </span><em class="italics">Ermine</em><span> steamed away to the west, the -cliffs of Cape Tekke glowed in the rays of the setting -sun, with a great pall of black smoke above them, the -masts of the sunken hulks at their feet, our own shells -were bursting on the beaches, and a huge splash leapt -up under the stern of the cruiser as a shell from -"Asiatic Annie" fell into the sea close to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By nine o'clock, after a wet and "bumpy" passage -through the head sea left by last night's gale, the Sub, -Bubbles, and the Orphan found themselves once more -in the Honourable Mess, where everybody asked -hundreds of questions at the same time, and where -Barnes soon had a glorious "feed" waiting for them. -Fletcher, the stoker, had come aft directly they reached -the ship, to find out whether they had brought the -tortoise back safely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was all due to him," the Orphan told Fletcher -joyfully. "You said he would bring good luck, and -he has."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kaiser Bill", however, did not show the slightest -interest in getting back to the ship or his owner, and -refused even to put out his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His nerves are a bit out of order, I expect," Uncle -Podger suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You should have seen him 'duck' when he heard -the shells burst!" the Orphan laughed. "You're a -bigger funk than I am; aren't you, old 'Kaiser Bill'?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-achates-returns-to-malta"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The "Achates" Returns to Malta</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At nine o'clock on Sunday morning, the 9th January, -a general "wireless" signal was made by the Naval -Commander-in-Chief—"Helles evacuated successfully"; -and every battleship, scout, sloop, and destroyer -scattered widely over the Eastern Mediterranean -received the welcome news at the same moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The greatest enthusiasm prevailed among the whole -fleet, for everyone realized that though the evacuation -was actually a retreat, yet it had been a wonderful -achievement in the face of difficulties which had at -one time seemed insuperable; moreover, it set free a -large and seasoned army for employment elsewhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, later on in the day, the officers and men -who had taken part in the evacuation returned to their -own ships at Mudros with yarns of last night's adventures, -everyone marvelled how it had been possible to -hoodwink the wily Turk a second time so completely, -and to do so in the teeth of that south-west gale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the gun-room of the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> that night, the Sub, -Bubbles, and the Orphan tried to answer questions -and eat at the same time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was that south-west wind that sprang up," the -Lamp-post said. "Directly it started blowing, the -Turks thought to themselves, 'Well, they won't try -to slip away to-night, at any rate', got out their -hubble-bubble pipes, and began playing 'patience'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must have been there, old Lampy," Uncle -Podger laughed. "Was it pretty to watch? What -kind of patience did they play?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know what I mean," the Lamp-post said. -"Don't try to be funny."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe he's right," the Sub said, with his mouth -full. "My jumping Jimmies, didn't we have luck?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll sat listening, with his eyes opening -and shutting, and his mouth wide open, fearfully -excited, especially when the Orphan, in the interval of -"Another helping, please, Barnes!" told them all -about the shells coming into the "dug-outs", and -the third one which just missed Bubbles outside the -kitchen door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the middle of all this, the Pimple rushed in, -shouting: "We're off to Malta! Off to Malta to -refit! The signal has just come through! As soon -as ever we get back all our men, off we go! You can't -say I don't bring you news, can you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment the evacuation, and the bursting shells, -and all the thrilling adventures—even the two -macintoshes and electric torches looted by Plunky -Bill—had been entirely forgotten. They all yelled with joy, -and wondered how long the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> would remain at -Malta, where she would go afterwards, and what ships -would be there for them to challenge at cricket or -hockey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll have to give me that dinner there, Rawlins, -old chap," grinned the Lamp-post, referring to the -"race" in their "water-beetles".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ra-ther!" said Rawlins. "We'll have a regular -slap-up 'eat-till-you-burst' show at the Club, won't we?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Gordon put his head into the gun-room to see -whether Bubbles and the Orphan had finished "feeding" -and were ready to come for'ard to the sick-bay -and have their slight wounds properly dressed. But -no one could worry about little things like that—now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, sir! Come in!" they shouted. "Isn't -it grand about Malta? Where do you think we'll go -afterwards?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know; I haven't the faintest idea," -Dr. Gordon answered in his nervous way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hadn't we better have a bath first, sir?" the two -wounded warriors asked him. "We want one -frightfully badly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," Dr. Gordon smiled. "I'll get the -bandages and things into my cabin. Come along -there, afterwards."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had their baths, they had their scratches -dressed; and then it was simply no use to try—they -could not keep awake any longer, and they turned -into their hammocks—on the half-deck—and slept like -logs; though not before the Pimple, shaking Bubbles, -told him that he must keep the forenoon watch next -day. "I've been keeping double watches ever since -you went skylarking over at Helles," he complained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, bother you!" Bubbles groaned, and went to sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning, as Bubbles kept his "forenoon", -the Orphan came to talk to him. He had a great idea -of doing something for "Kaiser Bill", "so that he -should always remember how he'd brought luck -wherever he went, and all the righting and things he'd -been through". They had a very long and secret -conversation, and then the Orphan, saying: "I'm -certain I can get it made on board—there's a stoker -petty officer who says he can do it—I'll go and see -him now," went away again.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Three days later, just before sunset, the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> -steamed out through the "gate" in the double row of -submarine nets, left Mudros for the last time, and -commenced to zigzag her way to Malta.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the ward-room that night the Sub dined with -Mr. Meredith, and the Orphan dined with the War -Baby, sitting next to Dr. O'Neill, the Fleet-Surgeon, -who was so delighted at getting away from the -Dardanelles that he actually made himself quite agreeable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not so much of the 'rats-in-a-trap' now, Doc," -the cheery Fleet-Paymaster called across the table. -"More of the 'bird-in-a-gilded-cage', eh? Don't -cheer up too soon; we shall be right in the thick of -the submarines to-night and to-morrow. You'd better -blow up your safety waistcoat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right, Pay. It's hanging up in my -cabin, blown up tight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good! I'll know where to steal it," grinned the -Fleet-Paymaster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After dinner the other gun-room officers were invited -to come along and start a "sing-song". They came -in, and the Lamp-post, itching to get at the piano, -was stuck down in front of it and told to play.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As his fingers drew music from the battered, -uncared-for old instrument, he lost himself in another -world altogether. He didn't hear the Navigator -asking why the China Doll had not come; or the Pimple -and Rawlins say: "Oh, we forgot him; we left him -in the gun-room"; nor notice them rush away with -the Orphan, Bubbles, and the War Baby, and bring -back the Assistant Clerk lashed in a bamboo stretcher, -with a big cardboard label—pointing the wrong -way—"This side up. Fragile—with care."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They rushed him through the ward-room door, his -squeals drowned by their shouts and the Lamp-posts -music, and stood him upside down on his head, -against the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's frightfully fragile! Listen how he cracks if -you touch him!" And the Pimple nipped his ankle, -the poor China Doll giving a squeak of pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's hardly comfortable, is it?" Dr. Gordon -suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, look at the label, sir. 'This side up', so -it must be right," they laughed. But Dr. Gordon -made them unbuckle the stretcher and take it away, -whilst the China Doll was "stood up" the right way, -blinking his eyes, and opening and shutting his -mouth. "Look at his lovely pink socks!" they cried, -pulling up his trouser legs. "Aren't they pretty?" But -the Assistant Clerk, with a frightened look at the -Sub, who had forbidden him to wear them in uniform, -tried to hide them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post stopped playing and "came to -earth" again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's simply marvellous how you do it, old Lampy," -said Uncle Podger, who had listened to every note. -"That right hand of yours gave those black notes the -time of their life; your left hand simply wasn't in -it—never had a look in. You ought to give it a good -start next time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be an ass!" the Lamp-post smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Mr. Meredith had to sing, and everyone -joined in the chorus. After that the China Doll, -pretending to be very shy, was pulled forward, and -bleated some song like "Put me among the Girls", -and received such an ovation for his silly performance, -and became so highly delighted with himself and his -popularity, that he thought he'd brave the Sub's -displeasure, and not creep away and change those pink -socks as he had intended to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Commander went off to bed very soon; but just -as the last chorus of "The Midshipmite" came to a -tremendous end, the door opened, and in came Captain -Macfarlane, smoking a cigar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everyone stood up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have a whisky and soda, sir?" the Fleet-Paymaster -and Navigator asked him. "We're having -a sing-song."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought I heard a slight noise," smiled the -Captain tugging at his pointed, yellow beard. "May I -ask what </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> are doing, Mr. Chaplain?" The little -Padre happened to be taking lessons from the Sub -as to how best to crawl through the back of one of -the ward-room chairs, and had just got himself -firmly wedged in, unable to move the chair up or -down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can </span><em class="italics">nearly</em><span> do it, sir," he said, standing up with -the back of the chair round his chest, and his usually -pale face almost purple.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nearly do it, Mr. Chaplain! nearly do it! How -long have you been in the Service? I'll show you how -to do it properly;" and throwing off his mess-jacket, -and placing his cigar in safety, Captain Macfarlane -wriggled his head and shoulders through the back of -another chair, and slipped it down to his feet in half a -minute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's very easily done, Mr. Chaplain," he said, just -a little out of breath, as he resumed his cigar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's all very well for you, sir. You are thin all -the way down—the Padre's only thin 'up topsides'." -the Navigator laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain sang a song, and joined in the choruses -of others till the time came for his usual visit to the -bridge. Then he put on his mess-jacket and wished -them all "good night".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, sir!" everyone said, standing up as -he went away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After this the sing-song became a little more -boisterous, until finally the climax came when the -Fleet-Paymaster, bursting in with a cushion he had -borrowed from the Padre's cabin, endeavoured to score -a "try" between the legs of the piano. He was -forced into touch, banged against the ship's side, -the cushion seized, and a most delightful game of -Rugby football followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Gordon had a little work to do—mending -people—afterwards, whilst the sing-song gradually -broke up, the clamour subsided, and one after the -other all went away to turn in, and peace and -quietness reigned once more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the way back to the gun-room the Sub asked -Uncle Podger to come into his cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, Uncle, that youngster of yours took -advantage of my dining in the ward-room to-night to -wear those pink socks. I don't care a tinker's curse -if he wears all the colours of the rainbow </span><em class="italics">out</em><span> of -uniform, but I had told him not to do so </span><em class="italics">in</em><span> uniform. -It's just this: the snotties—all of us—are spoiling him, -treating him like a plaything or a little girl. He -can't even talk sensibly now, or make an ordinary -remark without saying something silly to try and -make us laugh at him. He wore those socks to-night -to make the snotties laugh at him and "rag" him; -and that silly song he sang, and that silly blinking of -his eyes when the ward-room officers clapped him—well, -it's got to be stopped. What a horrible time he -will have, when he goes to another ship and tries his -baby tricks there! and what will he be like when he -grows up? He's a good little chap, really, and as -plucky as paint at sports. We </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> do something."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," Uncle Podger reflected. "I feel -just as you do. He's being absolutely spoiled. He's -absolutely useless in the office; I do believe he spends -his time thinking of what he can do next to make -them laugh at him. They were talking at dinner -to-night of getting up a gun-room court martial and -trying him one night before we get to Malta. The snotties -knew you had ordered him not to wear those socks, -and thought of trying him for that. The China -Doll thinks he's going to have the time of his life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right," said the Sub, "and I'll take 'President'; -he </span><em class="italics">shall</em><span> have the time of his life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't be too hard on him?" Uncle Podger -asked, a little anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right-o, old chap! Good night! I won't break him."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>By the next morning the </span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span> had passed -through the narrow Doro channel, where so many -ships had been attacked by submarines, and -zigzagged her way along the coast of Greece. In the -gun-room, great preparations were made for the China -Doll's court martial, which would be really done -"top-hole" fashion now that the Sub had offered to be -"President". All details were settled that afternoon. -The Orphan must be "Prisoner's Friend", and Uncle -Podger "Judge-Advocate". The War Baby had -been asked to dine as the guest of the Honourable -Mess, and afterwards to act as "Provost-Marshal", -"Master-at-Arms", "Second Executioner", and -"Prisoner's Escort". The Pimple appointed himself -"First Executioner", and Rawlins and the Hun -appointed themselves "Comic Jailers". But the Hun, -who had not been well for some days, had again to be -put on the sick-list and be slung in a cot on the -half-deck, so that Bubbles took his place as "Second -Jailer". The Lamp-post, of course, would be the -"Prosecutor", and make up a really funny speech.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before dinner they shifted the Hun in his cot, and -slung him just outside the gun-room door so that he -could look in and see the fun. "You'll have to be -the 'crowd'," they told him, "and groan and hoot -when the 'Prisoner' is dragged in or out—that is, -if you feel well enough, old Hun."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had a grand, cheery dinner, the most cheery -and noisy since the ship had left Ieros; they entirely -forgot Cape Helles or Suvla, the shells or the -submarines. The China Doll simply giggled with -excitement all the time. He longed for the trial to -begin, and for himself to be the central figure and be -able to "answer back" so cheekily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the meal was at last finished and everything -cleared away, he helped to carry in the Master-at-Arms' -table, and stood it across the top of the Mess, -in front of the sideboard, for the Sub to sit behind as -"Judge" and "President"; he helped bring in the -Padre's reading-desk to make the witness-box, and he -cleared all the litter of coats and boots from the brass -"beading", or fender, which surrounded the place -where the stove had stood in the old days. This was -to be the Bar, and he would have to stand in the -middle of it, facing the witness-box, with a "Jailer" -on each side of him, and the War Baby, with his -very long sword, behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He himself had no sword, and would not be -entitled to one until he reached the exalted rank of -Clerk, so he was ordered to provide himself with a -pen from the ship's office to take its place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Directly after "Commander's rounds" at nine -o'clock, the "Court" was "cleared", and the China -Doll, trembling with excitement, was sent to stand -by his sea-chest until the "Jailers" and the -"Master-at-Arms" came for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Punctually at ten past nine the War Baby, in -helmet, tunic, and those beautiful scarlet-striped -trousers of his, his long sword at the "carry", did the -"goose step" solemnly along the half-deck, followed -by Bubbles and Rawlins, their helmets on, the wrong -way round, their monkey-jackets stuffed out with -swimming-belts to make them look more "funny", and -their drawn dirks in their hands. They dragged -behind them the chain from one of the hatchway -ladders, and having snapped a pair of handcuffs -round the China Doll's wrists, lashed his arms to his -side with the chain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they escorted him solemnly back to the -gun-room, amidst derisive shouts of "Go it, pickpocket! -Wearer of Pink Socks! Booh! Pooh! Booh!" from -the "crowd"—the Hun in his cot outside the gun-room door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Behind the little table sat the Sub, smoking his -pipe—that office pen, which represented the "Prisoner's" -sword, and the gun-room cane in front of him. On -his left, at the end of the little table, sat Uncle Podger -with his "cocked" hat on, his sword between his -knees, and a roll of papers in his hands. In front -and on the right of the "Judge" was the stove fender -for the "Prisoner at the Bar", and in front and on -the left, the Padre's reading-desk, laden with a pile of -volumes of Chambers's </span><em class="italics">Encyclopædia</em><span>, borrowed from -the ward-room. The Lamp-post, as "Prosecutor", -leant "gracefully" against it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Behind the "Judge" stood the Pimple—a black -mask hiding most of his face—brandishing a huge -meat-chopper, kindly lent by the marine butcher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan had vanished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll was now marched to the Bar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Attention! Silence in Court!" shouted the War -Baby in a shrill falsetto; and the two "Jailers", -standing on each side of the China Doll, repeated it after -him, trying to make funny faces, and jerking the ends -of the chain coiled round the "Prisoner's" chest, -whilst that luckless youth opened and shut his eyes, -and kept saying: "Shut up! you're hurting!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silence, or comparative silence, having been -obtained, Uncle Podger gravely read, from a long roll -of paper, the horrible charge: "Whereas, Mr. Charles -Stokes, commonly known as the China Doll, did, -after being duly warned and cautioned not to wear -pink socks"—(loud "booing" from the "crowd", and -a request from the "crowd" for his cot to be shifted -a little farther for'ard, so that he could see better).</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After this interruption, and the Court had settled -down again, the "Judge-Advocate" resumed: "pink -socks, not in accordance with the Uniform Regulations -of His Majesty's Navy, and also infringing the -customs of the Honourable Mess, and being distasteful -to the Honourable Members thereof, and did -indulge this noxious habit on sundry and divers -occasions, to wit, notably at dinner on the thirteenth day -of the first month of the year nineteen hundred and -sixteen; therefore, the aforesaid Mr. Charles Stokes be -now brought before a Court Martial, duly assembled, -and his crime diligently, and with all due formality, -examined into, and death or other such punishment -as be deemed necessary, awarded."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Prisoner at the Bar," the "Judge-Advocate" began -sternly—("Tremble, China Doll," Rawlins implored -in a whisper. "Shake the chain and the -handcuffs.")—"having heard the grave charge, do you plead -guilty or not guilty?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Guilty, my Lord," squeaked the "Prisoner", -knowing that this was just what no one would want -him to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The 'Prisoner at the Bar' pleads 'Not guilty'—not -guilty, my Lord!'" shrieked the "Provost-Marshal", -"Master-at-Arms", "Second Executioner", -and "Prisoner's Escort", all rolled in one, waving -his long sword; the two comic "Jailers" joined in to -drown the "Prisoner's" voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was now heard, from the deck outside, shouts -of "Justice! Justice!" and a rather mild "booing" -from the "crowd"; in rushed the Orphan and struck -an attitude. "Am I too late to save my young -friend's life?" he cried tragically, holding one hand -against the front of his monkey-jacket, beneath which -something bulged out. "The prisoner pleads 'Not -guilty, my Lord!' and I am here to prove his innocence. -Fleeing from the Dardanelles, flying from the -post of danger, I—I—I—— Oh, hang it all; I can't -remember any more!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So down the Orphan sat, amidst groans from the -"Jailers", the "First and Second Executioners", and -the "crowd" outside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The 'Prisoner at the Bar' having pleaded 'Not -guilty, my Lord!'" continued the "Judge-Advocate", -"I will now request my honourable friend, -'Mr. Prosecutor', to proceed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So the Lamp-post, having cleared his throat several -times, and fixed the "Prisoner" with an "eagle -glance", before which the China Doll's knees shook -in the most realistic manner, proceeded: "My Lord, -in my researches among my legal books" (here he -rested his hand on the Encyclopædia) "I find but little -mention of socks, and none of pink socks, which is -sufficient proof that the crime, of which the 'Prisoner -at the Bar' is charged, is one of a unique and most -dangerous character. But" (and he banged the -reading-desk) "in the article on 'Dyes' I find this: 'Pink -dye is produced from coal-tar'"—(great sensation in -Court; Bubbles pretended to faint against the bulkhead; -the Pimple waved the meat-chopper so close to -the "Judge's" head that he was told to put it down in -the corner; and there was prolonged hissing from the -"crowd").</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the "Prosecutor", lightly touching on coal-tar -soap, tarred roads—their advantage to motors and -disadvantage to the fish in the streams which ran -alongside them, briefly mentioned the good old custom -of "tar and feathering", which he trusted the Court -would inflict on the wretched "Prisoner at the Bar". -"These," he said, suddenly holding aloft the two -incriminating socks, "are the abominated vestments -or 'what-nots' owned and worn by that trembling, -terrified tadpole, that cringing criminal in the dock. -I will now, my Lord, proceed to call my witnesses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're doing it spiffingly!" whispered Rawlins -to the China Doll. "If you could only wink up a -tear, and shake the chains a bit more!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One by one, Uncle Podger, the "Jailers", and -Barnes (in his shirt-sleeves) were called to the -reading-desk, sworn on the office copy of the King's -Regulations and Admiralty Instructions, and each -identified those socks as having been worn by the -"Prisoner" on the occasion in question. The War -Baby further gave evidence that he had found them -that night concealed in the "Prisoner's" chest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan, with some hazy idea of judicial -procedure, tried unsuccessfully to obtain a hearing. At -last he was heard to say: "That the 'Prisoner at the -Bar' denied ever having seen them before; that -having been brought up from the tenderest age on 'Pink -Pills for Pale Piccaninnies', he so abominated that -colour that he invariably fainted on seeing it". Here, -with his free hand (for the other hand still clasped -the bulge beneath his monkey-jacket), he seized the -pink socks from the "Prosecutor" and held them in -front of the "Prisoner's" face.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 66%" id="figure-69"> -<span id="the-gun-room-court-martial-on-the-china-doll"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="THE GUN-ROOM COURT MARTIAL ON THE CHINA DOLL." src="images/img-410.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">THE GUN-ROOM COURT MARTIAL ON THE CHINA DOLL.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll promptly fell back into the arms -of the "Jailers" and "Provost-Marshal".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See, my Lord!" and the Orphan pointed triumphantly -(as Rawlins whispered, "Keep on fainting—I'll -tell you when to stop"); "can the Court require -further proof of his innocence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>("Yes! Yes! Booh! Booh! Yah!" from the -"crowd" and the Pimple.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I will produce the real criminal, the owner -of those hateful socks;" and putting his hand inside -his monkey-jacket, the Orphan drew out "Kaiser -Bill", with his head out and legs dangling from his -shell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There he is! Come to save the innocent life of -that young officer—at the risk of his own shell!" (Tremendous -sensation in Court; the "Jailers" flung their -arms round each other and wept loudly—even the -"Judge" smiled as he refilled his pipe.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will now confront him with those socks, and -the Court will see him recognize them," went on the -Orphan, and dangled a sock in front of "Kaiser Bill". -Unfortunately, just at that moment the Pimple dropped -the meat-chopper, and "Kaiser Bill", thinking, -probably, that "Asiatic Annie" was getting busy again, -promptly "ducked" inside his shell, and nothing -would induce him to come out again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Lamp-post banged the reading-desk. "My -Lord, you have seen for yourself that the Witness -for the Defence refuses to perjure himself: the case is -clear; I submit that the charge is proved."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the general clamour and booing which followed, -the China Doll endeavoured to make himself heard; -but every time he opened his mouth, Rawlins or -Bubbles slapped a wet sponge (thoughtfully provided -by the Pimple) over his mouth, and the War Baby -sawed gently at his neck with his sword.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amid the general uproar, the Orphan was understood -to be pleading for the clemency of the Court. -"The 'Prisoner at the Bar'," he was heard to say, -"resolved, at a tender age, to devote his life to his -King and Country, and, leaving several disconsolate, -doting wives and children to mourn his loss, had come -to sea to make toast for the Honourable Mess."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But he doesn't make it now; he never did! He -always ate it himself!" yelled the "Jailers", the -"First Executioner", and the "crowd".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I look to the justice of the Court to acquit the -miserable little worm—I mean, this gallant and -impetuous officer—of the foul charge -which—which—which—— Oh, hang it all! I've -forgotten what comes -next," the Orphan said, and, amidst "loud and -prolonged cheering" from the Hun in his cot outside, -sat down on the gun-room table with "Kaiser Bill" -on his knees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub banged the table. "Has the 'Prisoner at -the Bar' anything to say in his defence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The China Doll, thinking that at last the time had -come for him to make the funny remarks he expected -everyone to laugh at, began, in his most squeaky -voice, his eyes opening and shutting: "My Lord, -old Lampy is——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Prosecutor! the Prosecutor!" they all shouted, -whilst the "Jailers" clapped the sponge over his -mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is an ass!" shrieked the China Doll, struggling free.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Muzzle the 'Prisoner'! Shove the sponge in his -mouth! Cut his head off!" shouted the "Jailers", the -"Provost-Marshal", the "First Executioner", and the -"crowd".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub banged the table for silence, and roared: -"'Provost-Marshal', remove the 'Prisoner', and send -back the 'Jailers'!" Whereupon the China Doll was -lifted up, kicking and squeaking, and taken out into -the half-deck, the War Baby keeping guard whilst -the two "Comic Jailers" came back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now look here," began the Sub, "we've had too -much of this fooling of the Assistant Clerk. He's not -a bad little chap, and we're simply spoiling him. He -thinks of nothing but how he can make us laugh at -him. When he goes to another ship he'll have a -rotten time, and grow up to be a 'rotter'. He wore -those pink socks after I had told him not to do so, and -to make you laugh at him all the more. Now all this -'rot' has to stop—from this very moment. He is not -to be called China Doll any longer—the name will -stick to him, and sooner or later spoil him. Stokes -is his name, and Stokes—and nothing else—nothing -else, do you understand?—you will call him in future. -You can 'scrap' with him as much as you like, but -you are to talk sensibly to him—and you are never -again to call him China Doll. Go and fetch the -'Prisoner'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The snotties never expected any ending like this, -and, rather bewildered, brought back the excited -Mr. Stokes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take off those handcuffs and foolhardy chains," -the Sub called out, "and bring Mr. Stokes over here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Assistant Clerk stood opposite the Sub, wondering -why the others didn't giggle at the abject look -of silly fright he tried to show.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stand up when I speak to you!" growled the -Sub, and the Assistant Clerk straightened himself and -looked frightened—naturally; he didn't know what -was the matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have taken 'President of the Court' to-night, -Mr. Stokes," the Sub began sternly, "and let you have -your fun out of it, but I am going to say a few things -to you which you are to remember. If you intend to -become a credit to yourself and the Navy you must -learn to obey orders—that is the first thing. Then -you must learn to be manly, which you are not trying -to do here. If you hadn't been just a silly, little -puppy I should have beaten you; but from now on, -you are to be called by your proper name—Stokes—and -by nothing else—and—and—dash it all—come -with me to my cabin and talk it over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ten minutes later they both came back, the -Assistant Clerk looking as if he had shed tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub put his hand on his shoulder. "Have a -drink, Stokes?" and Mr. Stokes looking up, with a -suspicion of a tremble on his lips, said: "Thank you, -sir, I should like a ginger beer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Barnes!" called the Sub; "bring me a whisky -and soda, and a ginger beer for Mr. Stokes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The others kept very quiet.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The evening after that court martial had taken place, -and just before dinner, Bubbles and the Orphan, -vastly excited, knocked at the door of the Sub's cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We've had this made for 'Kaiser Bill'," they -both began saying, bursting in. "Could we get -Fletcher and the tortoise down to the gun-room after -dinner, and present it to him—properly?" and they -pulled out a brass cross, shaped like a German "Iron -Cross", suspended on a piece of coloured ribbon with -a proper brooch and four "clasps".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Sub examined it, smiling as he read on one -side of the cross "Kaiser Bill—the Tortoise", on the -other "Good Luck"; and on the clasps: "</span><em class="italics">Achates</em><span>, -1915-16"—"Smyrna"—"'W' beach"—and on the -fourth—a very broad one: "Evacuation, Suvla—Helles".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We got it made on board," they said. "Haven't -they done it well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where did you get the ribbon?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Off the War Baby's straw hat. He'll never want -it. Can we tell Fletcher to come down after dinner, -and will you give 'Kaiser Bill' the medal? It would -be best to come from you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right; tell him to come to the gun-room after -'rounds'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So off they rushed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just after nine o'clock old Fletcher came aft with -the tortoise. They all met him outside, escorted him -into the gun-room, and made him sit down in the one -easy-chair, with the tortoise on his knees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Sub said: "We've had a medal made for -'Kaiser Bill', Fletcher; we thought you'd like to -have it, just to remember what he had been through, -and remind you about it later on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old stoker took the medal and its clasps, pulled -his gold spectacles out of their case from inside his -"jumper", fixed them on his nose, and beamed when -he read the inscriptions. "Thank you very much, -gentlemen! Thank you all, very much! I'll take it -home with me, and I hope I'll take 'Kaiser Bill' -home too. He did bring luck, didn't he? If we'd -only had him with us, that last time in the picket-boat, -we shouldn't have lost her. Should we, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Stokes, very nervous because this was his -first public appearance under his real name, stuttered: -"And, Fletcher, the Sub wants me to give you this -box of cigars; he thinks 'Kaiser Bill' likes the smell -of cigar smoke!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's very kind of you all; thank you very much, -gentlemen;" and the old stoker, beaming at them -through his gold spectacles, added, artlessly: "If -'Kaiser Bill' doesn't enjoy the smell of them, I -know someone who does. Thank you all, very much -indeed!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning, just after daybreak, every one of the -midshipmen (except the Hun in his cot) came on -deck to see the old walls of Malta standing up out of -the glittering sea, ahead of the ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they watched, and chaffed Rawlins about the -dinner he had to "stand" the Lamp-post at the Club, -the messenger-boy from the "wireless" room brought -aft the usual morning "Wireless Press News".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beg pardon, sir, but there's something about you -this morning," he said, coming up to the Orphan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"About me! What d'you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, sir," and the messenger-boy pointed to the -end of the last page.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They all crowded round the Orphan, who read: -"The following additional Naval honours appeared -in last night's </span><em class="italics">Gazette</em><span>", and at the end of the list -came—and the Orphan's head buzzed—"Distinguished -Service Cross—Midshipman Vincent Orpen".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a minute he wondered whether it was possible -that there could be another midshipman of the same -name; but whilst the others thumped him on the back -and congratulated him, another messenger came flying -down from the bridge: "The Captain wants you, sir, -at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not knowing whether he was on his head or his -heels, the Orphan flew up to the fore bridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Macfarlane smiled at him and tugged his -beard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it really true, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I imagine so; I sent your name in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's it for, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, Mr. Orpen, for working that maxim in -your picket-boat, at Ajano."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you awfully, sir! but Plunky Bill was -wounded twice, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was he the seaman who fired it before you 'took -on'?" asked the Captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir; he was hit twice before he gave up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, Mr. Orpen, you'll find that he has not -been forgotten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir, awfully! I—I—must go and tell -the Hun and the Sub—won't they be pleased?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Orphan thereupon dashed down the bridge ladder.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN -<br /></span><em class="italics small">At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 92%" id="figure-70"> -<span id="sketch-map-of-gallipoli-and-the-dardanelles"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Sketch map of Gallipoli and The Dardanelles" src="images/img-416.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Sketch map of Gallipoli and The Dardanelles</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">BY FLEET SURGEON T. T. JEANS, R.N.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">"The manifold excellences of Fleet Surgeon Jeans' work—its freshness, -<br />its originality, and above all its abiding humour."—Outlook.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics">Large crown 8vo, cloth extra. Illustrated</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Gunboat and Gun-runner: A Tale of the Persian Gulf.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"That boy must be a dullard whose pulse does not quicken, or his -imagination begin to glow, -when he reads this exciting tale."—Bookman.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John Graham, Sub-Lieutenant, R.N.: A Tale of the -Atlantic Fleet.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"A real workaday narrative of midshipmen's life -as seen through the eyes -of a young gunroom officer. -We cannot imagine a better book for the -mature boy."—Evening Standard.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On Foreign Service: or, The Santa Cruz Revolution.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"His book is among the very first we would -recommend."— Glasgow Herald.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Ford of H.M.S. 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