diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-22 02:44:40 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-22 02:44:40 -0800 |
| commit | 83d0fb446e4b926d729ed590e987eee96f80315c (patch) | |
| tree | 6a1153b25be65bd64e51179b0fd928f526c4d7f4 | |
| parent | 6d6df498f1eb7750d225dbc982d4f8093f7663a7 (diff) | |
24 files changed, 17 insertions, 28782 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e5c2480 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67661 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67661) diff --git a/old/67661-0.txt b/old/67661-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 98b205c..0000000 --- a/old/67661-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12952 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Gallipoli Diary, by John Graham Gillam - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Gallipoli Diary - -Author: John Graham Gillam - -Release Date: March 20, 2022 [eBook #67661] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, Quentin Campbell and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALLIPOLI DIARY *** - - - Transcriber’s Note - -In the following transcription, italic text is denoted by _underscores_. -Small capitals in the original text have been transcribed as ALL -CAPITALS. - -See end of this document for details of corrections and other changes. - - ————————————— Start of Book ————————————— - - - - - GALLIPOLI DIARY - - - BY - MAJOR JOHN GRAHAM GILLAM - D.S.O. - - - [Illustration: Colophon] - - - LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD. - RUSKIN HOUSE 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C. 1 - - - - - _First published in 1918_ - - - (_All rights reserved_) - - - - - PREFACE - - -In the kind and courteous letter which you will read on p. 15 General -Sir Aylmer Hunter-Weston says that it is not possible for him to write -a Preface to this book. That is my own and the reader’s great loss, for -General Hunter-Weston, as is well known, commanded the 29th Division at -the landing on the Gallipoli Peninsula on April 25, 1915, and during -those early months of desperate fighting, until to the universal -regret of all who served under him he became one of the victims of -the sickness that began to ravage our ranks; and as one of the chief -players of the great game that was there enacted, his comments would -have been of supreme interest and would have added immeasurably to -such small value as there may be in this Diary of one of the pawns in -that same game. But since the player cannot, the pawn may perhaps be -allowed to say a few words by way of comment on and explanation of the -following pages. - -Towards the completion of the mobilization of the 29th Division in the -Leamington area in early 1915, I heard secretly that the Division was -bound for the Dardanelles at an early date, instead of for France as -we had at first expected. By this I knew that in all probability the -Division was destined to play a most romantic part in the Great War. -I had visions of trekking up the Gallipoli Peninsula with the Navy -bombarding a way for us up the Straits and along the coast-line of the -Sea of Marmora, until after a brief campaign we entered triumphantly -Constantinople, there to meet the Russian Army, which would link up -with ourselves to form part of a great chain encircling and throttling -the Central Empires. I sailed from England on March 20, 1915, firmly -convinced that my vision would actually come true and that some time -in 1915 the paper-boys would be singing out in the streets of London: -“Fall of Constantinople—British link hands with the Russians”; and I -am sure that all who knew the secret of our destination were as firmly -convinced as I was that we should meet with complete success. We little -appreciated the difficulties of our task. - -For these reasons, and perhaps because the very names—Gallipoli, -Dardanelles, Constantinople—sounded so romantic and full of adventure, -I determined to revive an old, if egotistic, hobby of mine—the keeping -of a diary. Throughout the Gallipoli campaign, therefore, almost -religiously every day and with very few exceptions I recorded, as -I have done in the past, the daily happenings of my life and the -impressions such happenings made on me, and the thoughts that they -created. The diary was written by me to myself, as most diaries are, to -be read possibly by myself and my nearest relations after the war, but -with no thought of publication. - -But when the Division was in Egypt, after the evacuation, and just -prior to its embarking for France, a Supply Officer joined us whom I -had met and talked to on the Peninsula, as one meets hundreds of men, -without knowing, or caring to know, anything more about them than that -they are trying to do their job as one tries to do one’s own. His name -is Launcelot Cayley Shadwell, and we became firm friends. We talked -often of Gallipoli, and one day, in France, I showed him my diary. -He read it, and then told me that I should try to get it published. -I laughed at the idea, but he assured me that these first-hand -impressions might interest a wider circle than that for which they were -primarily intended, but that beforehand the diary should be pruned -and edited, for of course there was much in it which was too personal -to be of interest to anybody but myself. I asked him if he would edit -it for me. He consented, and very kindly undertook the necessary blue -pencilling, and in addition to his labour of excision was good enough -to insert a few passages describing, so far as words can, the exquisite -loveliness of the Peninsula. For these, which far surpass the powers -of my own pen, I am deeply indebted to him. They will be found under -dates:—_May 2nd, Moonlight at Helles; May 13th, The sensations one -experiences when a shell is addressed to you; May 26th, Moonlight -scenes; May 30th, Colouring of Imbros; July 15th, Alexandria; September -16th and 17th, The bathing cove_. - -I am also indebted to the kindness of Captain Jocelyn Bray, the A.P.M. -of the 29th Division on the Peninsula, for many excellent photographs. - -The diary next had to be submitted to the Censor, who naturally refused -to pass it until the Dardanelles Commission had finished its sittings, -and it was nearly a year before it came back into my hands, passed -for publication, but with a few further blue pencillings, this time -not personal, but official. And in this form—hastily scribbled by -me from day to day, with a stumpy indelible pencil on odd sheets of -paper, pruned, edited and improved by Shadwell, and extra-edited, if -not notably improved, by the Censor—my diary is now presented for the -consideration of an all-indulgent public. - -Enough has been said to show, if internal evidence did not shout it -aloud, that my diary has no literary pretensions whatsoever. I am no -John Masefield, and do not seek to compete with my betters. Those who -desire to survey the whole amazing Gallipoli campaign in perspective -must look elsewhere than in these pages. Their sole object was to -record the personal impressions, feeling, and doings from day to day -of one supply officer to a Division whose gallantry in that campaign -well earned for it the epithet “Immortal.” If in spite of its many -deficiencies my diary should succeed in interesting the reader, and -if, in particular, I have been able to place in the proper light the -services of that indispensable but underrated arm, the A.S.C., I am -more than content. - -I have now seen the A.S.C. at work in England, Egypt, France and -Flanders, as well as in Gallipoli, and the result is always just the -same. Tommy is hungry three times a day without distinction of place, -and without distinction of place three times a day, as regularly as -the sun rises and sets, food is forthcoming for him, food in abundance -with no queues or meat cards. The A.S.C. must never fail, and it never -does fail, for its organization is one of the most brilliant the Army -knows. But few, other than those in the A.S.C. itself or on the staffs -of armies, can appreciate its vastness and its infallibility. To do -so one should watch the supply ships dodging the enemy submarines and -arriving at the bases, the supply hangars at the base supply depots -receiving and disgorging the supplies to the pack trains, the arrival -of the trains at the regulating stations on the lines of communication, -whence they are dispatched to the railheads just behind the line, the -staff of the deputy directors of supplies and transport of armies at -work, following carefully the movements of formations and the rise -and fall of strengths, to ensure that not only shall sufficient food -arrive regularly each day at the railheads, but that there shall be no -surpluses to choke the railheads. It is hardly less important that -there should not be too much than that there should not be too little. - -The slightest miscalculation may easily lead to chaos—to the blocking -of trains carrying wounded back and ammunition forward, or the -deprivation of a few thousand men of their food at a critical moment. -One should watch the arrival of the supply pack trains at the railheads -where the supply columns of motor lorries or the divisional trains -of horse transport unload the pack trains and load their vehicles, -regularly each day at scheduled times, under all conditions, even those -caused by a 14-inch enemy shell bursting at intervals of five minutes -in the railhead yard, causing all and sundry to get to cover, except -the A.S.C., who must never fail to clear the train at the scheduled -time. One should watch the divisional train H.Q. at work, following -its division and arranging for the daily correct distribution and the -delivery of the rations to units. Often horse transport, by careful -managing on the part of train H.Q., is released for other duties than -those of drawing and delivering supplies to units. Then one may watch -the A.S.C. driver delivering R.E. material, etc., to the line, along -roads swept by high-explosive shell and shrapnel and machine guns, -where all but the A.S.C. driver can get to ground, while he must stand -by his horses and get cover for them and himself as best he can. Then, -although one has only seen the skeleton framework of this vast service, -and has had no opportunity to go into the technicalities of the system -or to investigate the many safety valves of base supply depots, field -supply depots, reserve parks and emergency ration dumps in the line, -all of which are ready to come to the rescue should a pack train be -blown up or a convoy scuppered, nor to study the wonderfully efficient -organization of transport, covering mechanical transport, horse -transport, Foden lorries and tractors which ply from the base to the -line, carrying, as well as supplies, ammunition, R.E. material, and -every imaginable necessity of war, and moving heavy guns in and out of -position, at times under the very noses of the enemy, yet one cannot -fail to have gained a great respect for that vast and wonderfully -silent organization, the Army Service Corps. - - J. G. G. - - FRANCE, - _May 1918_. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - PREFACE 5 - - INTRODUCTION 15 - - THE CLIMATE AT THE DARDANELLES 17 - - PROLOGUE—MARCH 1915 23 - - APRIL 25 - - MAY 62 - - JUNE 114 - - JULY 156 - - AUGUST 180 - - SEPTEMBER 218 - - OCTOBER 237 - - NOVEMBER 256 - - DECEMBER 282 - - JANUARY 1916 310 - - EPILOGUE 325 - - INDEX 326 - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS - - - FACING PAGE - - THE GANGWAY OF THE _RIVER CLYDE_, OUT OF WHICH TROOPS - POURED AS SOON AS THE SHIP GROUNDED ON APRIL 25, - 1915. CAPE HELLES 32 - - BATHING OFF GULLY BEACH, HELLES 64 - - “Y” BEACH, CAPE HELLES, WHERE THE K.O.S.B.’S LANDED - ON APRIL 25, 1915, HAVING TO EVACUATE THEREFROM - ON THE FOLLOWING DAY 64 - - 29TH DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS, GULLY BEACH, AT THE - FOOT OF THE GULLY, HELLES 92 - - VIEW OF “V” BEACH, CAPE HELLES, TAKEN FROM THE - _RIVER CLYDE_ 92 - - COAST LINE, CAPE HELLES 176 - - A VIEW OF THE GULLY, CAPE HELLES, LOOKING TOWARDS - THE ENEMY LINES 176 - - A VIEW OF THE PROMONTORY, SUVLA BAY, TAKEN FROM 29TH - DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS 200 - - A CAPTURED TURKISH TRENCH, SUVLA BAY 216 - - A VIEW OF SUVLA BAY 216 - - GENERAL DE LISLE’S HEADQUARTERS, SUVLA BAY 224 - - 4·5 HOWITZER IN ACTION, SUVLA BAY 244 - - 29TH DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS, SUVLA BAY, HIDDEN FROM - THE ENEMY BY THE SLOPE OF THE HILL 244 - - - - - INTRODUCTION - -LETTER FROM LIEUT.-GENERAL SIR AYLMER HUNTER-WESTON, K.C.B., C.B., - D.S.O., M.P., D.L., WHO COMMANDED THE DIVISION AT THE LANDING, - APRIL 25, 1915. - - -DEAR GILLAM, - -The Diary of a man who, like yourself, took part in the historic -landing at Gallipoli, and was present on the Peninsula during the -subsequent fighting, will, I know, be of interest to many besides -myself. There are but few of us who, in those strenuous days, were able -to keep diaries, and even fewer were those who had the gift of making -of their daily entries a narrative that would be of interest to others. - -I should like to have time to write a Preface for this book of yours, -giving the salient points of our great adventure and the effect it had -both on us and on the enemy. I should also have liked to have shown -the influence that you and the Army Service Corps generally had on our -operations by the successful manner in which you were able to keep the -troops fed and supplied under circumstances of apparently insuperable -difficulty. - -But being, as I am, in command of a big Army Corps on one of the most -difficult parts of the Front, it is impossible for me to find any time -for writing such a Preface. - -I can but wish your book the greatest success, and hope that it will be -widely read. - - Yours sincerely, - AYLMER HUNTER-WESTON. - - HEADQUARTERS, VIII CORPS, B.E.F., - _February 18, 1918_. - - - - - THE CLIMATE AT THE DARDANELLES - - By HENRY E. PEARS - - -[After the evacuation of the Peninsula, the following article, which - appeared in the _Westminster Gazette_ early in September 1915, - was shown to me. After reading it through, I compared the weather - forecasts that the author sets forth, and was interested to find that - they agreed very closely with the notes on the weather that I had - made in my Diary. The article is therefore republished here, as it - may be of interest to the reader.—J. G. G.] - - -The dispatch of August 31st of Reuter’s Special Correspondent with -the Mediterranean Forces, of which a summary was published in the -_Westminster Gazette_ of the 18th inst., speaks of the weather at the -Dardanelles and as to there being two months of fine autumn weather in -which to pile up stores, etc. It would be more correct to say three -months rather than two. - -It may be interesting to some of your readers to have a few remarks -on the weather in the Marmora. Such remarks are based on the results -of observations made by a close observer of nature during a period -of over thirty years. The fact that particular interest was taken -in weather conditions at such a place arose from a cause other -than a meteorological interest in the weather, the object being an -endeavour to throw light on the migration of birds. Bird naturalists -in general, and especially Frenchmen, have fully recognized that the -two stretches of land, namely the shores of the Bosphorus and that of -the Dardanelles, being the closest points of junction between Europe -and Asia, as also the European coast between these points, are the -concentrated passage way or route for the huge migratory flocks of -birds proceeding from the western half of Europe into Asia. Three -results stand out in respect to this migration. First, the absolute -regularity of the autumn migration or passage; secondly, certain -conditions of weather at almost fixed dates; thirdly, the result of the -weather conditions as affecting the density of the flights, the resting -and stopping of various birds at certain places. The subject is a very -wide one, and is somewhat foreign to the real purpose of my remarks. - -Taking the month of September to begin with, the weather is very fine, -a continuation of summer; cloudless skies day after day, with perhaps -a rain and thunder storm or two, only—one generally in the first -week, and another about September 17th, but always brought on by a -north to north-west wind. As a rule the constant summer land breezes -(north-east about) are of less intensity in September than in August, -which allows for a keeping up of an average day temperature, as the -Marmora, Bosphorus, and Dardanelles owe their moderate day temperature -to these daily breezes (called “Meltem”) from the north to north-east -during the summer. The wind generally dies away at sunset, which fact, -however, rather tends to make the night temperature higher during the -summer; the result being that, as between day and night temperature, -when the north wind blows during the day, there is but little drop in -the temperature and the nights are hot. - -About September 21st to 24th there is, however, a marked period in -the weather. It is either a calm as regards winds, and consequently -very hot, or such period is marked by southerly winds, but not of any -great intensity or strength—very dry, hot winds. These are the first -southerly winds of autumn, but as a general rule such period is in -nautical terms “calm and fine, with southerly airs.” - -From such time up to the end of September the north or north-easterly -winds set in again, but later on, generally about the first week of -October, the winds get more to the north and north-west, and there is a -heavy thunderstorm or so, and as a result a drop in temperature. - -From October 10th to 14th there is a period of uncertainty; sometimes -a south-westerly wind, which veers round to the north-west, and a good -rain-storm. The first distinct drop in temperature now takes place -(about the 10th to the 14th), one feels autumn in the air, the nights -continue fairly warm; and this period continues fine and generally calm -up to about the 20th—sometimes the 18th or 19th—when a well defined and -almost absolutely regular period is entered upon. - -This spell begins with three or four days of very heavy northerly or -north-westerly wind, sometimes a gale, generally accompanied by rain -for several days, and it is this period—from October 20th to 25th—which -is intensely interesting to naturalists owing to the big passage of -all kinds of birds, the arrival of the first woodcock, the clockwork -precision of the passage of the stock-doves (pigeons); in fact, it is -the moment of the big migration, when the air night and day is full -of birds on the move. Towards the end of October, and in the way of a -counter-coup or reaction to the northerly gales, there is generally -experienced a fierce three or four days of southerly winds, sometimes -gales. - -It is to be noted that these gales or changes in the weather are -usually of three or seven days’ duration, the first day generally being -the strongest, and for some of these regular winds the natives have -special names. - -November almost always comes in fine, with a lovely first ten days -or so. It, however, becomes rather sharp at night, and a very marked -period now of cold weather is to be expected—a cold snap, in fact. - -This snap is generally in the second or third week of the month, and -only lasts a few days, the weather going back to fine, warm, and calm -till the end of the month. Barring such cold snap the month is marked -by fine weather and absence of wind, and many people consider it the -most glorious month of the year, the sunsets being especially fine. The -cold snap is rather a peculiar one. Snow has been seen on November 4th, -and, if I remember rightly, the battle of Lule Bourgas three years ago -was fought on November 5th, 6th, and 7th, and during such time there -raged a storm of rain and sleet, succeeded by two or three nights of -hard frost, which caused the death of many a poor fellow who had been -wounded and was lying out. - -Another year there was a very heavy snow-storm on November 16th and -17th. Although the weather may be of this nature for several days, it -recovers and drops back into calm, warm weather. - -In the last days of November or the first days of December another -period is entered upon. There is generally a heavy south wind lasting -from three to seven days, which is succeeded by a lovely spell of fine -weather, generally perfectly calm and warm, which brings one well -through December. From a little before Christmas or just after, the -weather varies greatly. The marked periods are passed—the weather may -be anything, sometimes calm and mild, sometimes varied by rains, with -strong north winds, but no seriously bad weather; in one word, no real -winter weather need be looked for until, as the natives put it, the old -New Year—otherwise the New Year, old style, which is January 14th, our -style—comes in. - -After January 14th, or a few days later, the weather is almost -invariably bad; there is always a snow blizzard or two, generally -between January 20th and 25th. These are real bad blizzards, which -sometimes last from three to seven days; and anything in the way of -weather may happen for the next six weeks or two months. The snow has -been known to lie for six weeks. Strong southerly gales succeed, as a -rule, the northerly gales, but one thing is to be noted: that the south -and west winds no longer bring rain; it is the north and north-east -which bring snow and rain. - -This winter period is difficult to speak of with anything like -precision; nothing appears to be regular. Some years the weather is -severe, other years snow is only seen once or twice. Winter is said to -have finished on April 15th. The only point about a severe winter is -that a period of cold is generally followed by a period of calm warm -weather of ten days or so. It has often been noted that a very cold -winter in England and France, etc., generally gives the south-east -corner of Europe about which we are speaking a mild winter with a -prevalence of southerly airs, whereas a mild winter in England and -France marks the south-east corner of Europe for a severe winter, -with a prevalence of northerly winds. No doubt experts will be able -to explain this. Of late years no great cold has visited the Marmora. -In 1893 the Golden Horn from the Inner Bridge at Constantinople was -frozen over sufficiently for people to walk over the ice, and the inner -harbour had floes knocking about for some weeks. That winter, however, -was an exceptional one, but even then the winter only began about -January 18th, lasting into March. The great point about the climate -is that, however hot or cold a spell may be, it is always succeeded -by calm weather, a blue sky, and a warm sun, quite a different state -of things from winter weather under English conditions. To those who -have relations or friends at the Dardanelles (and I quote from a letter -from a friend), let them send good strong warm stockings for the -men, besides the usual waistcoats and mufflers; and as for creature -comforts, sweets, chocolate, and tobacco, especially cigarettes. It is -the Turks who will suffer from the cold; they cannot stand it long, and -being fed generally mainly on bread, they have no stamina to meet cold -weather. Most of their troops come from warm climes. - - - - - PROLOGUE—MARCH 1915 - - -On March 20th, 1915, I embarked on the S.S. _Arcadian_ for the seat -of war. My destination, I learned, was to be the Dardanelles, and the -campaign, I surmised, was likely to be more romantic than any other -military undertaking of modern times. Our ship carried, besides various -small units, part of the General Staff of the Expedition. The voyage -was not to be as monotonous as I first thought, for I found many old -friends on board. After the usual orderly panic consequent on the -loading of a troopship we glided from the quay, our only send-off being -supplied by a musical Tommy on shore, who performed with great delicacy -and feeling “The Girl I left Behind Me” on a tin whistle. The night -was calm and beautiful, and the new crescent moon swung above in the -velvet sky—a symbol, as I thought, of the land we were bound for. As we -passed the last point a voice sang out, “Are we downhearted?” and the -usual “No!” bawled by enthusiastic soldiers on board, vibrated through -the ship, and so with our escort of six destroyers we left the coast of -Old England behind us. Nothing of interest happened during the passage -across the Bay. On arrival at Gibraltar searchlights at once picked us -up, and a small boat from a gunboat near by came alongside—we dropped -two bags of mails into her and in return received our orders. As we -sailed through the Mediterranean, hugging the African coast, the view -of the purple mountains cut sharp against the emerald sky was very -beautiful. - -Our next stop was Malta, which struck me as very picturesque. The -island showed up buff colour against the blue sky, and the creamy -colour of the flat-roofed houses made a curious colour scheme. As we -went slowly up the fair way of Valetta Harbour, we passed several -French warships, on one of which the band played “God Save the King,” -followed by “Tipperary,” our men cheering by way of answering the -compliment. The grand harbour was very interesting, swarming with -shipping of all kinds, the small native boats darting over the blue -water interesting me greatly. The buff background of the hills, dotted -with the creamy-coloured buildings and a few forts, the pale-blue sky -and deeper tint of the water, the wheeling gulls, all went to make up -a charming picture. We went ashore for a short time and found the town -full of interest. We visited the Club, a fine old building, once one of -the _auberges_ of the Knights of Malta, where we were made guests for -the day. Afterwards we strolled round the town; the flat-roofed houses -made the view quite Eastern, and the curious mixture of fashionable -and native clothing at once struck me. The women wore a head-dress not -unlike that of a nun—black, and kept away from the face by a stiffening -of wire. We passed many fine buildings, for Malta is full of them, and -one particularly we noticed, namely the Governor’s Palace, with its -charming gardens. As to the country itself, what I saw of it was all -arranged in stone terraces, no hedges, except a few clumps of cactus -being visible. In the evening we returned to the ship, and before very -long set sail once more. I found that two foreign officers had joined -us; one was a Russian and the other French, but both belonged to the -French Army and both spoke English perfectly. - -On April 1st, after an uneventful trip from Malta, we arrived at -Alexandria, our Base, and from this date the Diary proper begins. - - - - - GALLIPOLI DIARY - - APRIL - - -_April 1st to 17th._ - -We arrived at Alexandria on April 1st. The harbour is very fine, about -three miles wide, and protected from the open sea by a boom. The -docks are very extensive, and, just now, are of course seething with -industry. All the transports have arrived safely. The harbour itself -is full of shipping, and anchored in a long row I am delighted to see -a number of German liners which have been either captured on the high -seas or captured in port at the beginning of hostilities and interned. -All the Division disembarks and goes to four camps on the outskirts of -the town. My destination was bare desert, and reminded me irresistibly -of the wilderness as mentioned in the Bible. There was a salt-water -lake near by, with a big salt-works quite near it. - -In the centre of Alexandria is a fine square flanked by splendid -up-to-date hotels and picturesque boulevards; but the native quarter -is most depressing, consisting of mud hovels sheltering grimy women -and still grimier children. The huts themselves are without windows -and only partially roofed. Flies abound upon the filthy interstices; -a noxious smell of cooking, tainted with the scent of onions, greets -the nose of the passer-by at all hours. I find my work at the docks -rather arduous, as, after the troops have disembarked, we have to -take stock of what supplies remain on board, and then make up all -shortages. I sleep and have my meals on a different ship almost every -day—which is interesting. About the fifth of the month the troops -return to re-embark—I have to work very hard on the ships with gangs -of Arabs. These folk are just like children, and have to be treated -as such—watched and urged on every moment; if one leaves them to -themselves for an instant they start jabbering like a lot of monkeys. I -finally find myself on a fine Red Star boat, the S.S. _Southland_. - -There are a lot of our Staff on board—also French Staff, including -General D’Amade, the French G.O.C., who did such good work in France -in the retreat. He is a distinguished-looking old man with white hair, -moustache, and imperial. I hear that Way and myself are to be the first -Supply Officers ashore at the landing. Half the A.S.C. have been left -behind in Alexandria, and there are only five of my people with me. - - -_Sunday, April 18th._ - -We are now steaming through crowds of little islands, some as small -as a cottage garden, others as large as Hyde Park. Sea beautifully -calm, and troops just had their Church Parade. We have the King’s Own -Scottish Borderers on board, and it is very nice having their pipers -instead of the bugle. - -On account of drifting mines we are keeping off the usual route. - - -_2 o’clock._ - -Arrive at our _rendez-vous_, Lemnos, a big island, with a fine harbour. -Seven battleships in, and all our transport fleet as well as some -of the French and Australian. We remain in the outer harbour awhile -opposite a battleship that had been in the wars, one funnel being -nearly blown away. All battleships painted a curious mottled colour, -and look weird. One of our cargo-boats has been converted into a dummy -battleship to act as a decoy, very cleverly done too. Later, we go into -the inner harbour and moor alongside another transport, the _Aragon_, -on which is my Brigade Staff and the Hampshires, who were at Stratford -with me. The Staff Captain hands over to me a box, which I find is my -long-lost torch and batteries from Gamage. - -French Headquarter Staff and General D’Amade leave and go on board -_Arcadian_. The transport _Manitou_, one of the boats on which I ate -and slept, and which left Alexandria two in front of our transport, -was stopped by a Turkish destroyer off Rhodes and three torpedoes were -discharged at her. The first two torpedoes missed and the troops rushed -to the boats. Owing to some muddle, two boats fell into the sea and -a ship’s officer and fifty soldiers were drowned. The third torpedo -struck, but did not explode, as the percussion pin had not been pulled -out. Two cruisers arrived on the scene and chased the destroyer off, -which ran ashore, the crew being captured. - -After dinner go on board _Aragon_ with Hampshire officers and see -Panton. Also talk to Brigade-Major and Captain Reid, of Hampshires. - - -_Monday morning, April 19th._ - -Lovely morning. Fleet left. Troops, with full kit on, marching round -deck to the tune of piano. Most thrilling. Piano plays “Who’s your Lady -Friend?” soldiers singing. What men! Splendid! What luck to be with the -29th! - - -_April 22nd._ - -This is a fine harbour, very broad, and there are quite a hundred ships -here, including the Fleet and transports, amongst which are some of -our best liners. I had to go to a horse-boat lying in the mouth of the -harbour two mornings ago and took two non-commissioned officers and a -crew of twelve men. We got there all right, a row of two and a half -miles, but the sea was so heavy that it was impossible to row back. I -had to return, and fortunately managed to get taken back in a pinnace -that happened to call; but the rest had to remain on board till the -next day, and then took three hours to row back. This gives us an idea -of the difficult task our landing will be at Gallipoli. For a time we -were moored alongside the boat on which was the Headquarters of the -88th Brigade, and it was cheering to be able to walk to and fro between -the two ships and to see all my pals of the Hampshires. - -The Hampshires and the Worcesters spend the day marching, with full -kit on, round the deck to the cheery strains of popular airs played -by a talented Tommy. The effect, with the regular tramp, is very -exhilarating. - -Later, I am ordered to join another ship, the _Dongola_, in which are -the Essex and the Royal Scots, the other regiments of my Brigade. Two -Essex officers were staying in the “Warwick Arms” with me, and it was -good seeing them again. The harbour at night is a fine sight. A moon is -shining and not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature about 50°. - -The last few days, however, have been wet and drizzling, just like a -typical day in June in England when one has been invited to a garden -party. - -One can see the outline of the low irregular hills on shore, and the -ships are constantly signalling to one another, silently sending -orders, planning and arranging for the great adventure. - -Have to go up to the signalling deck above the bridge to take a message -flashed from a tiny little “Tinker Bell” light away on our starboard. -The sight is wonderful. Busy little dot-dash flashes all around the -harbour. How the signallers find out which is which beats me. - -The view of the hills in the background contrasts strangely with the -scenes of modern science and ingenuity afloat. - -I saw the _Queen Elizabeth_ at close quarters two days ago, and I -hope to go over her to-morrow. Also the _Askold_, a Russian cruiser, -with five funnels. Tommies call her “The packet of Woodbines.” It is -interesting to note the confidence the Army and Navy have in each -other. While being rowed over here by some bluejackets, “stroke” told -me that he was in the _Irresistible_ when she was sunk. He looked -sullen, and then said, “However, they’ll catch it now the khaki boys -have arrived.” The prevailing opinion amongst the Tommies is that the -landing will be a soft job, with _Queen Bess_ and her sisters pounding -the land defences with shells. Then the confidence French, British, and -Russians have in one another is encouraging. The feeling prevails that -when once the landing is effected Turkey will cave in, and that will -have a great influence on the duration of the war. But a Scotsman said -to me to-day, “Remember, Kitchener said ‘A three years’ war.’” - -Sir Ian Hamilton this evening sent round a brief exhortation beginning, -“Soldiers of France and of the King,” which bucked up everybody. - - -_April 23rd._ - -A bright day. Took estimate of stores on board to see if troops had -enough rations. Found shortage; signalled Headquarters, who send stores -to make up. Received orders where to land on Sunday. Have to go ashore -at “V” Beach with the first load of supplies and start depot on beach. -Naval officer on board with a party. Breezy, good-looking young man, -very keen on his job. - -The first boat of the fleet leaves, named the _River Clyde_, an old -tramp steamer, painted khaki. She contains the Dublin and Munster -Fusiliers. Fore and aft on starboard and port the sides are cut -away, but fastened like doors. She will be beached at “V” Beach, and -immediately that is over, her sides will be opened and the troops -aboard will swarm out on to the shore. Good luck to those on board! She -slowly passes the battleships, and turning round the boom, is soon out -of sight. - -The strains of the Russian National Anthem float over the harbour from -the _Askold_ and the first large transport leaves the harbour, a big -Cunarder, the _Aucania_, with some of the 86th Brigade on board. Great -cheering. What a drama, and how impressive the Russian National Anthem -is. Evening again. Little “Tinker Bell” flashes begin to get busy. - -On lower deck the Tommies give a concert, with an orchestra composed of -a tin can, a few mouth-organs, and combs and paper—“Tipperary,” “Who’s -your Lady Friend?” etc. - -Feel just a bit lonely and homesick. Longing for the time when I can -see my sisters again and punt up the river at dear old Guildford. But -what about the Tommies on board?—they have just the same feeling, and -yet keep playing their mouth-organs. Hear that Ian Hamilton feels -a bit anxious over this job, but that Hunter-Weston, our Divisional -General, is full of pluck and confidence. He says that he will not -“down” the man who makes mistakes yet tries to remedy them, but that -the man that he _will_ “down” will be the one who slacks and avoids -work. - - -_April 24th._ - -Another bright day. Some transports and battleships leaving harbour. -Issue extra days’ rations to troops on board, which makes four days’ -that they will have to carry. Their packs and equipment now equal sixty -pounds. How they will fight to-morrow beats me. I tried a pack on and -was astonished at its weight. We have left harbour and are steaming for -the scene of the great adventure. Hope we shall not meet a submarine or -drifting mines. Have spent the evening with some young officers of the -Essex. They all seem a trifle nervous, yet brave and cheery. They play -a Naval game called “Priest of the Parish,” but it falls flat. I felt -nervous myself, but after cheering them up, felt better. Told them it -was going to be a soft job. - -We arrive at five in the morning, and troops are to land at six. London -will be ringing with the news on Monday or Tuesday. - -If successful, the war out here will soon be over, we think. - - -_April 25th._ - -Was awakened up at four by the noise of the distant rumbling of guns, -and coming to my senses, I realized that the great effort had started. -I dressed hastily and went on deck, and there found the Essex and -Royal Scots falling in on parade, with full packs on, two bags of iron -rations, and the unexpended portion of the day’s rations (for they had -breakfasted), entrenching tools, two hundred rounds of ammunition, -rifle and bayonet. I stood and watched—watched their faces, listened to -what they said to each other, and could trace no sign of fear in their -faces and no words of apprehension at forthcoming events in their -conversation. - -It was a simple “fall in,” just as of old in the days of peace parades, -with the familiar faces of their N.C.O.’s and officers before them, -like one big family party. - -They seemed to be rather weighed down with their packs, and I pity them -for the work that this parade is called for. The booming of the guns -grows louder. It is very misty, but on going forward I can just see -land, and the first officer points out to me the entrance through the -Dardanelles. How narrow it seems; like the Thames at Gravesend almost. -I can see the _Askold_ distinctly. A Tommy said, “There’s the old -packet of Woodbines giving them what-ho!” She is firing broadsides, and -columns of dust and smoke arise from shore. The din is getting louder. -I can’t quite make out which is the Asiatic side and which Gallipoli. -It is getting clearer and a lovely day is developing. Seagulls are -swooping over the calm sea above the din, and a thunderous roar bursts -out now and again from _Queen Bess_. Her 15-inch guns are at work, and -she is firing enormous shrapnel shells—terrible shells, which seem to -burst 30 feet from the ground. - - -_8 a.m._ - -The Essex are disembarking now, going down the rope ladders slowly -and with difficulty. One slips on stepping into a boat and twists his -ankle. An onlooking Tommy is heard to remark, “Somebody will get hurt -over this job soon.” Young Milward, the Naval Landing Officer, is -controlling the disembarkation. He has a typical sailor’s face—keen -blue eyes, straight nose and firm mouth, with a good chin. They are -landing in small open boats. A tug takes a string of them in tow, and -slowly they steam away for “W” Beach. We hear the Lancashires have -landed at “W” Beach, and are a hundred yards inshore fighting for dear -life. Tug after tug takes these strings of white open boats away from -our ship towards land, with their overladen khaki freight. Slowly they -wend their way towards the green shore in front of us, winding in and -out among transports, roaring battleships, and angry destroyers, -towards the land of the Great Adventure. Never, surely, was Navy and -Army so closely allied. - -I go below to get breakfast, but hardly eat any. The breakfast-tables -are almost empty, except for a few Quartermasters and people like -myself who do not fight. I feel ashamed to be there, and a friend says -the same. The steward calmly hands the menu round, just as he might on -a peaceful voyage. What a contrast! Two boiled eggs, coffee, toast, and -marmalade. - -Here we are sitting down to a good meal and men are fighting up the -cliffs a few hundred yards away. I get it over and go up on deck again. - - -_8.30 a.m._ - -It is quite clear now, and I can just see through my glasses the little -khaki figures on shore at “W” Beach and on the top of the cliff, while -at “V” Beach, where the _River Clyde_ is lying beached, all seems hell -and confusion. Some fool near me says, “Look, they are bathing at ‘V’ -Beach.” I get my glasses on to it and see about a hundred khaki figures -crouching behind a sand dune close to the water’s edge. On a hopper -which somehow or other has been moored in between the _River Clyde_ and -the shore I see khaki figures lying, many apparently dead. I also see -the horrible sight of some little white boats drifting, with motionless -khaki freight, helplessly out to sea on the strong current that is -coming down the Straits. The battleships incessantly belch spurts of -flame, followed by clouds of buff-coloured smoke, and above it all a -deafening roar. It is ear-splitting. I shall get used to it in time, -I suppose. Some pinnace comes alongside our ship with orders, and the -midshipman in command says the Australians have landed, but with many -casualties, and have got John Turk on the run across the Peninsula. I -turn my glasses up the coast to see if I can see them, but they are too -far away. I can only see brown hills and bursting shells, a sea dead -calm, and a perfect day. The work of the Creator and the destroying -hand of man in close intimacy. A seaplane swoops from the pale blue of -the sky and settles like a beautiful bird on the dark blue of the -sea alongside a great battleship, while hellish destructive shells deal -out death and injury to God’s creatures on shore. This is war! and I am -watching as from a box at the theatre. - -[Illustration: THE GANGWAY OF THE _RIVER CLYDE_, OUT OF WHICH TROOPS -POURED AS SOON AS THE SHIP GROUNDED ON APRIL 25, 1915. CAPE HELLES.] - - -_10.20 a.m._ - -Imbros is peaceful and beautiful, Gallipoli beautiful and awful. We -have moved closer in to the beach and they are trying to hit us from -the shore. Two shells have just dropped near us, twenty yards away; -the din is ear-splitting, especially from _Queen Bess_. I can hear -the crack-crack of the rifles on shore, which reminds me of Bulford. -I shall be glad when we land. This boat is getting on my nerves. We -are just off the “Horse of Troy,” as we call the _River Clyde_. Are we -going to land at “V” Beach? I can see no sign of life there. Nothing -but columns of earth thrown into the air and bits of the houses of -Sed-el-Bahr flying around, and always those crouching figures behind -the sand dunes. Only the Royal Scots left on board. Perhaps they are -going to land and make good. I get near Milward to see if he has any -orders. He goes up to the bridge to take a signal. - - -_11.30 a.m._ - -We are going out to sea again. A tug comes alongside with wounded, -and they are carefully hoisted on board by slings. They are the first -wounded that I have ever seen in my life, and I look over the side with -curiosity and study their faces. They are mostly Lancashire Fusiliers -from “W” Beach. Some look pale and stern, some are groaning now and -again, while others are smoking and joking with the crew of the tug. - -I talk to one of the more slightly wounded, and he tells me that it -was “fun” when once they got ashore, but they “copped it” from machine -guns in getting out of the boats into shallow water, where they found -venomous barbed wire was thickly laid. He laid out four John Turks and -then “copped it” through the thigh, and three hours afterwards was -picked up by sailors. - -And then, “Any chance of Blighty, sir?” and I said, “I’m afraid not; it -will be Malta or Alex, and back here again,” to which he replied, “Yes; -I want to get back to the regiment.” - - -_12 noon._ - -We are going closer in again, and the Royal Scots are leaving. The -Quartermaster, Lieutenant Steel, remains behind with ration parties. -He is very impatient and wants to get off; a curious man: tells me he -doesn’t think he will come off Gallipoli alive. - - -_2.15 p.m._ - -I have a dismal lunch, just like the breakfast. I can see French troops -pouring out of small boats now on to the Asiatic side and forming up -in platoons and marching in open order inland, while shrapnel bursts -overhead. During lunch I find that we went out to sea, but are nearing -the land now. Oh! when shall I get off this ship? I wonder. Milward -tells me that the delay occurred because at first we were to land at -“V” Beach, but that it has become so hot there that landing to-day is -impossible. He says that I shall land at 4 p.m. I hear a cheer, a real -British one. Is that a charge? My imagination had conjured up a mass -of yelling and maddened men rushing forward helter-skelter. What I see -is crouching figures, some almost bent double, others jog-trotting -over the grass with bright sun-rays flashing on their bayonets. Now -and again a figure falls and lies still—very still in a crumpled heap; -while all the time the crack-crack of musketry and the pop-popping of -machine guns never ceases. That is what a charge looks like. I chat to -Milward, and he tells me that the Navy are doing their job well, and -he will be surprised if a single Turk is alive for three miles inshore -by nightfall, but he expresses surprise that we have only the 29th and -Australians; as he figures it we want six Divisions and the job over in -a month. This depresses me. - -I have orders to leave, and I must get ready. - - -_4 p.m._ - -I give orders to my servant and to the corporal and private of the -advanced Supply Section, who are to accompany me, to get kit ready. I -am to land at once on “W” Beach with seven days’ rations and water, and -a quantity of S.A. ammunition for my Brigade. I superintend the loading -of the supplies from the forward hold to the lighter which has moored -alongside, my corporal on the lighter checking it, and doing his job -just as methodically as he used to at Bulford. While at work, a few -shells drop into the sea quite near, throwing up waterspouts as high as -the funnel of the ship. Two small boats are made fast to the lighter, -and my servant and I get into the lighter down the rope ladder. Beastly -things, rope ladders. We sit down on the boxes and wait. We wait a -devil of a time while others join us, among whom are the 88th Field -Ambulance and the Padre. Suddenly Padre gets a message that he is not -to go, and we find that he was trying to smuggle himself ashore. At -last up comes a small pinnace with a very baby of a midshipman at the -wheel, and a lot of orders are sung out in a shrill voice to men old -enough to be his father. We slowly steam for shore. - -Passing across the bows of the _Implacable_, we nearly have our heads -blown off by the blast of her forward guns, and the funny thing is, I -can hardly see a man on board. Pinnaces, tugs, destroyers are rushing -in and out of the fleet of transports and warships. A tug passes close -to us on its way to the _Dongola_, the ship I have just left, loaded -with wounded, all slight cases, and they give us a cheer and shout -“Best of luck, boys!” We wave back. We approach close into “W” Beach, -where lighters are moored to more lighters beached high on the sand, -and then the “snotty,” making a sweep with his pinnace, swings us -round. He gives the order to cast adrift, and then shouts in a baby -voice: “I can’t do any more for you; you must get ashore the best you -can.” - -We fortunately manage with difficulty to grab a rope from one of the -moored lighters and make fast while the two boats are rowed ashore. -There we stick. I _dare_ not leave those seven days’ rations and water -for four thousand men, and I shout to seamen on shore to try to push -us in and so beach us. The bombardment begins to ease off somewhat. The -sun begins to sink behind Imbros, and gradually it turns bitterly cold. -I sit and shiver, munching the unexpired portion of my day’s ration. I -want a coat badly, but by this time my kit is on shore with my servant. -We appear to have been forgotten altogether. On the cliffs in front of -us Tommies are limping back wounded. One comes perilously near the edge -of the cliff, stumbling and swaying like a drunken man. We shout loudly -to him as time after time he all but falls over the edge. Two R.A.M.C. -grabbed him eventually and led him safely down. I have a smoke, and -view the scenes on shore. Gradually the beach is becoming filled with -medical stores and supplies. It is gruesome seeing dozens of dead -lying about in all attitudes. It becomes eerie as it gets darker. At -this beach at dawn this morning there landed the Lancashire Fusiliers. -They were waited for until their boats were beached, when, as the -troops stepped out of the boats, they were fired on by the Turks, who -subjected them to heavy machine gun fire from two cliffs on either -side of the beach. The slaughter was terrible. On the right-hand side -of the beach the troops had a check, and terrible fighting took place. -Finally, one by one the machine guns were pulled from their positions -in the cliff, and the sections working them killed in hand-to-hand -struggles. On the left side of the beach the troops found no barbed -wire, and so were able to get on shore, and to the cry of “Lads, follow -me!” from an officer they swarmed up a 50-feet steep cliff, clearing -the upper ridge of Turks, but losing heavily. They fought their way -inland, and after a while were able to enfilade the Turks holding up -our men on the right of the beach, until at last, by 6 a.m., the whole -beach was won and John Turk was driven five hundred yards or more -inshore. - -Midshipmen and Naval Lieutenants were in charge of the pinnaces -towing strings of boats, and as they approached the shore, fired for -all they were worth with machine guns mounted forward, protected by -shields. Then, swinging round, they cast the boats adrift. Each boat -had a few sailors, who rowed for shore like mad, and many in so doing -lost their lives, shot in the back. To row an open boat, unprotected, -into murderous machine gun and rifle fire requires pluck backed by -a discipline which only the British Navy can supply. Some of the -sailors grabbed rifles from dead and wounded soldiers and fought as -infantrymen. I can see many such dead Naval heroes before my eyes now, -lying still on the bloody sand. I am sitting on the boxes now, and -“ping” goes something past my head, and then “ping-ping,” with a long -ringing sound, follows one after the other. The crackle of musketry -begins again, and faster and faster the bullets come. At last I know -what bullets are like. - -The feeling at first is weird. We get behind the pile of boxes, and -bullets hit bully beef and biscuit boxes or pass harmlessly overhead. -At last, boats come alongside and we unload the boxes into them, and -I go ashore with the first batch, and there I meet 86th and 87th -Supply Officers, who landed two hours earlier. My servant meets me and -asks where shall I sleep. What a question! What does he expect me to -answer—“Room 44, first floor”? I say, “Oh, shove my kit down there,” -pointing to some lying figures on the sand. Five minutes after he comes -up, and with a scared voice says, “Them is all stiff corpses, sir; you -can’t sleep there.” I reply, “Oh, damn it; go and sit down on my kit -till I come back.” I start to work to get the stores higher up the -cliff. Oh! the sand. It is devilish heavy going, walking up and down -with my feet sinking in almost ankle-deep. It is quite dark now, and I -stumble at frequent intervals over the dead. Parties are removing them, -not for burial, but higher up the beach out of the way of the working -parties. I run into the Brigade quartermaster-sergeant and ask him, -“How’s the Brigadier?” He replies, “Killed, sir.” I can’t speak for -a moment. “And the Brigade Major?” “Killed also, sir.” That finishes -me. It is my first experience of the real horrors of war—losing those -who had become friends, whom one respected. And I had worked in their -headquarters in England every day for two months, knew them almost -intimately, and looked forward with pleasure to going through the -campaign on their Staff. “How did it happen, Leslie?” I ask. The -General was shot in the stomach while in the pinnace, before he could -step on to the hopper alongside the _River Clyde_, and died shortly -after. The Brigade Major got it walking along the hopper. The _River -Clyde_ was to have been Brigade H.Q., and the Brigade was to have taken -“V” Beach that day. So far, “V” Beach was still Turkish. Their machine -guns kept our men at bay. I wonder what it is like on the _River Clyde_ -at present, and whether those few men are still crouching behind that -sand dune. - -Way comes up and says it is going to be a devil of a job getting those -stores ashore, and that he can’t get enough men. I have a few seamen, -Cooper, Whitbourn, and my servant, so put them on to it, and I myself -help. Thus we struggle on over the sand and up to the grass on the -slope of the cliff. Phew! it is work, and I am getting dead tired. We -work till eleven o’clock and then Foley and I have a rest behind a pile -of boxes on the sand. Bullets steadily “ping” overhead, and now and -again a man gives a little sigh of pain and falls helplessly to the -sand. The strange part is that I do not feel sick at the sight of the -dead and wounded. I think it is because of the excitement, and because -I am dead tired. I get a bit cold sitting still, and can’t find my -coat, so I huddle against Foley behind the boxes. A philosophical Naval -officer sits alongside, smoking a huge pipe. Crack-crack-crack goes the -desultory fire of the rifles. The ships cease firing. It is awfully -quiet and uncanny. Suddenly the musketry and rifle fire breaks out with -a burst which develops into a steady roar. The beach becomes alive -with people once more. All seems confusion. The Naval officer goes on -steadily smoking, and we sit still, wondering how things are going to -develop. The Fleet is silent. But I can just see the outline of the -warships, with a few lights showing. - -Then I hear an officer shouting angrily, “Now then, fall in, you men! -Who are you? Well, fall in. Get a rifle. Find one then, and damn -quick!” Then another officer shouts, “All but R.A.M.C. fall in. Who -are you? Fall in. Into file, right turn, quick march.” About a dozen or -two march off into the night up the cliff—officers’ servants, A.S.C., -seamen, R.N.D.—every man who was not either R.A.M.C. or working on the -dozen or so lighters that had been beached. I pause a bit. I feel a -worm skulking behind these boxes while these events are happening. I -express my feelings to Foley, and he says he feels the same. I say, -“We must do something,” and he replies, “Let’s get rifles,” and off -we go searching for rifles, but can find none in the dark. I lose -my temper—why, Heaven only knows. I see some men falling in, and I -go up to them and say, “Fall in, you men; why aren’t you falling -in?”—although I know they are, and I find an officer in charge and -feel an ass. They move up to man the third-line trench just running -along the edge of the cliff. All the beach parties have moved up to -this trench. I have lost Foley, and so I follow up with no rifle and no -revolver, and shivering with cold. But I feel much better, although I -am still in a temper. Extraordinary this! I am annoyed with everybody -I see. Nerves, I suppose. Then a petty officer comes along and shouts, -“Now then, you men, where the —— is the —— ammunition?” and in the -darkness I discern some seamen carrying boxes of S.A.A. I go to the -first pair, carrying a box between them, and take one side of the box -from one of the seamen, and immediately feel delighted with myself, the -sailor, and everybody. I have got a definite job. Up we pant; half-way -up the cliff, I find Foley on the same job. A voice shouts, “Have you -got the ammunition, Foley?” It is O’Hara’s voice, our D.A.Q.M.G., and -he comes running down to us. - -Suddenly the Fleet open fire, and the infernal din begins all over -again, the flashes lighting up the beach, silhouetting men on shore -and ships lying off, and all the time the song of bullets. Red Hell -and a Sunday night! And this is war at last! I never thought I should -ever get as near it as this, when I was a civilian. O’Hara says, “Who’s -that?” to me, and I answer my name, and he says, “Righto! give us a -hand with this little lot, lad.” He bends down, and he and a sailor -lift a box. Foley and I lift another, and six seamen (I find they are -off the _Implacable_) lift the others, and off we pant up the cliff -over that third-line trench, lined with men of the beach parties with -fixed bayonets. It’s a devil of a walk to the second line, and it -reminds me of hurrying to the railway station with a heavy portmanteau -to catch a train. Foley and I constantly change hands. - -The seamen too find it heavy going. We arrive at the second line and -run into the Adjutant of the Lancashire Fusiliers, calmly walking up -and down his trench with a stick. We halt, open the boxes, and hang -the strings of ammunition around our necks and over our shoulders. I -am almost weighed down with the load. We have a rest, taking cover in -the trench now and again as bullets come rather thicker than usual. -The firing is frightful—now a roar of musketry, and now desultory -firing—while the ships’ guns boom away in the same spasmodic way. -O’Hara then says, “Come along; follow me,” and we go, headed by the -Adjutant of the Lancashire Fusiliers to show us the way, and on over -the grass and gorse into the blackness beyond. We are lucky, for it is -a quiet moment and we have only to go three or four hundred yards, but -just as we approach the first line, out bursts a spell of machine gun -and rifle fire—rapid—and I fall headlong into what I think is space, -but which proves to be our front-line trench. I fall clean on top of -a Tommy, who is the opposite of polite, for my ammunition slings had -tapped his nose painfully. I apologize, and feeling a bit done, lie -down in the mud like a frog, the coolness of the mud soon reviving me. -We pass the ammunition along, each man keeping two or three slings. -O’Hara wanders along the trench, having to keep his head low, for it -is none too deep and bullets are pretty free overhead, while I remain -and chat to the Tommy, another Lancashire Fusilier, who is shivering, -with teeth chattering and wet through, for it is raining. A Tommy on -the other side of me is fast asleep and snoring loudly. The one awake -describes to me the landing of the previous early morning, the machine -gun fire and the venomous barbed wire, with the sea just lapping over -it, and the exciting bayonet work that followed. - -I am enjoying myself now, for I am in the front-line trench with a -regiment which has just added a few more laurels to its glorious -collection. It is curious, but no shells are coming from the Turks, and -bullets are such gentlemanly little things that they do not worry me. -It is funny, but everybody up here appears very cool and confident, -while on the beach they all are inclined to be jumpy. O’Hara comes -back with the two sailors. Foley has disappeared, and the other four -sailors also have gone. We push along to the end of the trench, and -the firing having died down somewhat, we climb out into the open and -wend our way back. We seem to miss our bearing and go wandering off a -devil of a way, when another burst of firing from a few machine guns -forces us to dive promptly into a hole which by Providence we find in -our path. The two sailors have disappeared somewhere. We find two men -crouching in the hole, and on asking who they are, find that they are -Lancashire Fusiliers, separated from their regiment. I can hear the -swish of the machine gun bullets sweeping nearer and nearer, farther -and farther from me, and then nearer as the guns are traversed. We -are evidently lying in a hole which was dug to begin a trench, but -which was abandoned. It is practically only a ditch the shape of a -small right angle. O’Hara and I fall one side, and the two Lancashire -Fusiliers the other, and we crouch for three-quarters of an hour. If -we kneel, our heads are above the parapet. After a while O’Hara says -to me, “I am awfully sorry for getting you in this fix, Gillam,” and I -reply automatically, just as one might in ordinary life, “Not at all; -a pleasure, sir.” Really though, I don’t like it much, but I am much -happier here than I would be on the beach. The firing dies down again. -The ships’ guns are still banging away steadily. O’Hara disappears -somewhere. I follow where I think he has gone, but I hear his voice -after a minute talking to an officer, and I therefore lie down. But -for a while I can’t make out the situation. Firing starts again and I -can almost feel the flight of some bullets, and I lie flat. It dawns -on me that I am lying in front of a trench. I wriggle like a snake -over the heap of earth in front of me, into the trench behind, and -find it not nearly so deep as the one I have just left, nor so roomy. -The firing gets so hot that I try to wriggle in beside a form of a man -which is perfectly still. An extra burst of firing sends me struggling -for room into the trench, and the man whom I thought was dead moves, -which sends a shiver down my spine. I apologize, and he makes room -for me. A little later, the firing dies down again; two figures run -past our trench shouting “All correct, sir,” and an officer shouts -“All correct.” They are runners sent up from the beach. I can hear -O’Hara talking to some officer the other side of a traverse; then he -calls me, and joining him, I follow him down towards the masts of the -ships that we can just see silhouetted against the brightening sky. -Suddenly an advanced sentry cries, “’Alt, who are you?” “Friend.” “Who -are you?” “Friend—friend—friend!” shouts O’Hara. “Hands up; advance -one,” and for some stupid reason I think he means advance one pace, -which I solemnly do. O’Hara catches me a blow in the “tummy” and nearly -winds me, saying, “Stand still, you —— fool,” and I stand stock-still, -gasping for breath, with my hands above my head, while he walks slowly -forward with hands up, and I can just see the sentry covering him with -his rifle the while. I can hear them talking, and after a few sentences -O’Hara calls me and I follow, still with my hands up, until I reach the -sentry. - -I think this frightened me more than all the events of this night. -We continue our way. It is not so dark as it was, and it has ceased -raining. Then a horrid thing happens. I fall headlong over a dead Turk, -with face staring up into the sky and glazed eyes wide open. He wears a -blue uniform, and I think he must have been a sailor from Sed-el-Bahr -fort. Ugh! I almost touched his face with mine. Shortly after this -mishap we arrive at the third-line trench, crowded with troops of all -kinds, made up from the parties on the beaches, and get challenged -again by some Engineers. Safely passing these, we stumble down the -slope to the beach. O’Hara sends me off to look for the stores, and I -last see him going back once more with a rifle and bayonet. - -I run into Foley, who I find has had an adventurous time. Having had -the ammunition taken off him, he tried to find us, but turned the wrong -way up the trench. He got out into the open after a bit and wandered -apparently just behind our front line towards “V” Beach, well the other -side of “W.” The rifle fire was so hot there that he crawled like a -caterpillar back to the second line, and from there doubled back to the -beach, steering himself by the mast-lights of the ships. - -We see that the stores are O.K., and then run into Carver, who has -just landed. Afterwards I find my friend Major Gibbon, of the howitzer -battery, busy getting his guns ashore. Foley and I then go back to the -boxes, and we lie down like dogs, falling to sleep at once on the soft, -comfortable sand. Dawn breaks over the hills of Asia. - - -_Monday, April 26th._ - -I awake about seven and find myself nestling up close against Foley, -who is still asleep. I wake him, and he promptly falls asleep again, -murmuring something about “that —— machine gun.” - -The beach quickly becomes alive with men all working for dear life, and -we get to our feet, go down to the water’s edge and bathe our faces, -and start to finish the work of making a small Supply depot which we -left last night. My servant comes to tell me that breakfast is ready, -and we go up the cliff and join Way and Carver at a repast of biscuits, -jam, bacon, and tea. But the tea tastes strong of sea water. All water -had been carried with us in tins, and we had struck a bad batch, for -most of them leaked. And then our day’s work begins in all seriousness. - -By night O’Hara wishes us to have a proper Supply depot working, the -Quartermasters coming with fatigue parties, presenting their B55’s, and -rations to the full are promptly issued and accounted for in our books. -At frequent intervals the Fleet bombard, but we are quite used to the -roar of the guns now. I am covered and coated with clayey mud and have -no time to clean myself properly. We have to take cover continually -from snipers—unknown enemies who fire at us from Lord knows where. One -open part of the beach is especially dangerous, and I cross that part -about six times during a day—not a very wide space, but I feel each -time I go across that I am taking a long journey. The dead are still -lying about, and as there is no time to bury them, we pass to and fro -by their bodies unheedingly. In addition to these snipers who pick off -one of our number now and again, we have spent bullets flying in all -directions, for our firing-line is but a few hundred yards away. The -Turk, however, does not appear to have a proper firing-line; he only -seems to have advanced posts strongly held, and must have retreated -well inshore. - -It is a blessing for us that no shells come along, only these spent -bullets and the deadly shots from the unseen snipers. Heavy firing -sounds, however, from “V” Beach, a rattle of musketry and a roar of the -battleships and torpedo-boat destroyers lying at the mouth. Colonel -Beadon and Major Streidinger are getting a proper system of supply and -transport working. - -We become venturesome in the late afternoon, and many of us, quite two -to three hundred, go up on the high land on the right and left of the -beach and make a tour of the lately captured trenches. Turkish dead are -lying about in grotesque attitudes; the trenches are full of equipment, -and I notice particularly bundles of remarkably clean linen, and many -loaves of bread, one loaf sticking out of a dead Turk’s pocket. Several -of the dead are dressed in a navy-blue uniform with brass buttons, -but most are in khaki with grey overcoats and cloth hats. Suddenly a -whistle blows, and several cry “Get off the skyline!” and we all run -helter-skelter for the safety of the beach. When darkness arrives we -have a proper Supply depot working, and strings of pack-mules are hard -at work carrying stores. Guns, ammunition, and men are everywhere. The -Engineers have run out a pier already. Every one is in the best of -spirits, for we have tasted a brilliant victory, and organizing brains -are still at work in preparation for further ventures. I go to sleep -behind boxes with the sound of a heavy rifle fire disturbing the night. - - -_Tuesday, April 27._ - -I am ordered to make a small advanced depot just behind the firing -line, using pack-mules under Colonel Patterson, of the Zion Mule Corps. -The drivers are Syrian refugees from Syria, and curiously enough speak -Russian as their common language. While up there, but a very short -walk from the beach, I sit down on the layer’s seat of one of the -18-pounders of one of the batteries in position just behind our line. -The battery is not dug in at all. I look through a telescopic sight, -but can only see a lovely view of grass, barley, gorse and flowers, -hillocks, nullahs, and the great hill of Achi Baba in the background, -looking like Polyphemus in _Dido and Æneas_, with an ugly head and arms -outstretched from the Straits to the Ægean. - -I ask where the Turks are, and they point to a line some two thousand -yards away, marked by newly turned earth, which is just distinguishable -through strong glasses. I can see no sign of life, but away up on the -ridges of Achi Baba columns of earth and smoke suddenly burst from the -ground, caused by the shells of our Fleet. - -Rifle fire has died down; hardly a shot on our front comes over, and no -shells at all. - -On our right, shell fire continues. I hear that “V” Beach is taken. It -was taken midday yesterday, but with heavy casualties. The Dublins, -Munsters, and Hants had the job, and the Hants did magnificently. -Colonel Williams, the G.S.O.1, behaved most gallantly. Snipers were -worrying after the village was taken, and in crossing a certain part of -the village he exposed himself by mounting a wall, and, standing there -for a time, looked down, saying to men round him, “You see, there are -no snipers left, men.” They leapt after him like cats, and were through -the village in no time. Man after man had been hit on that wall that -morning. - -I make a little depot of boxes just behind the battery, and go back -to the beach and load for another journey. On arrival there, Colonel -Beadon orders me to proceed to “V” Beach to collect all stores there -and make an inventory. For at first this was to have been our beach, -had we been able to land on the first day. The French are to take it -over now, as they are coming back from the Asiatic side, evacuating it -entirely. I go down to “W” Beach for a fatigue party of the R.N.D., -and am told to apply to the Naval Landing Officer, and an officer -standing talking on the sands is pointed out to me as he. I go up -to him and wait for an opportunity to catch his eye; for he is an -Admiral. He is talking to a Captain, and two midshipmen are standing -near. I wait fifteen minutes, manœuvring for position so that he may -ask me what I want. I think I must have shown signs of impatience, for -the Admiral turned full round toward me, and after looking at me in -mild surprise for a few seconds, during which I felt a desire to turn -round and run up the cliff, quietly turned round to the Captain and -continued his conversation. A minute or two passed and he walked away -with the midshipmen, and the Captain asked me what I wanted. I told him -a fatigue party, and he pointed out an R.N.D. officer a hundred yards -away, to whom I went, at once obtained satisfaction, and to whom I -should have gone at the start. I find I have made an ass of myself, and -therefore administer mental kicks. With my fatigue party, my corporal, -private, and servant, I march up the cliff toward “V” Beach. We pass -the lighthouse, which has been badly knocked about, following the line -of the Turkish trench, which is along the edge of the cliff, to the -fort, which had withstood the bombardment well. At the fort we see two -huge guns of very old pattern, knocked about a good deal. Then we dip -down to “V” Beach, a much deeper and wider beach than “W,” and walk -towards the sea. Then I see a sight which I shall never forget all my -life. About two hundred bodies are laid out for burial, consisting of -soldiers and sailors. I repeat, never have the Army and Navy been so -dovetailed together. They lie in all postures, their faces blackened, -swollen, and distorted by the sun. The bodies of seven officers lie in -a row in front by themselves. I cannot but think what a fine company -they would make if by a miracle an Unseen Hand could restore them to -life by a touch. The rank of major and the red tabs on one of the -bodies arrests my eye, and the form of the officer seems familiar. -Colonel Gostling, of the 88th Field Ambulance, is standing near me, -and he goes over to the form, bends down, and gently removes a khaki -handkerchief covering the face. I then see that it is Major Costaker, -our late Brigade Major. In his breast-pocket is a cigarette-case and -a few letters; one is in his wife’s handwriting. I had worked in his -office for two months in England, and was looking forward to working -with him in Gallipoli. - -It was cruel luck that he even was not permitted to land, for I learn -that he was hit in the heart on the hopper shortly after General -Napier was laid low. His last words were, “Oh, Lord! I am done for -now.” I notice also that a bullet has torn the toes of his left foot -away; probably this happened after he was dead. I hear that General -Napier was hit whilst in the pinnace, on his way to the _River Clyde_, -by a machine gun bullet in the stomach. Just before he died he said -to Sinclair-Thomson, our Staff Captain, “Get on the _Clyde_ and tell -Carrington-Smith to take over.” A little while later he apologized -for groaning. Good heavens! I can’t realize it, for it was such a -short while ago that we were all such a merry party at the “Warwick -Arms,” Warwick. I report to Captain Stoney, of the K.O.S.B.’s, who -is the M.L.O., and he hands over supplies to me. I clear the beach, -make a small Supply depot and take stock, and start to issue to all -and sundry as on “W” Beach the previous day. All day the French are -arriving from the Asiatic side. No shelling. Evidently the Turks have -no artillery. Davidson, an R.N.D. officer, tells me that he is quite -used to handling the dead now. He has been told off to identify them on -this beach and to take charge. I have a good look at the _River Clyde_. -She managed to get within two hundred yards of shore, and now she is -linked to the beach by hoppers. Two gangways are down at either side -at a gentle slope from holes half-way up her sides, and very flimsy -arrangements they are. It is difficult for the troops to pass each -other on them. Men poured out from these holes in the ship at a given -signal early on Sunday morning, and were quickly caught by machine -gun fire, dropping like flies into the sea, a drop of 20 feet. Some -of those who fell wounded from the hopper in the shallow water close -inshore drowned through being borne down by the weight of their packs. -Colonel Carrington-Smith, who took over command of the Brigade when -General Napier was killed, was looking round the corner of the shelter -of the bridge through glasses at the Turkish position on shore when -he was caught by a bullet clean in the forehead and died instantly. -Sunday night on the _Clyde_ was hell. One or two shells, luckily small -ones from Asia, burst right through the side of the ship. Doctors did -splendid work for the wounded all night on board. A sigh of relief -came from all on board when the signal was given next day to land and -take the beach, which was taken after much hand-to-hand fighting, the -enemy putting up a gallant resistance, encouraged as they were by their -success in preventing us from landing on this beach on Sunday. - -Addison, of the Hants, is gone; he met his end in the village of -Sed-el-Bahr. He was leading his men, firing right and left with his -revolver. He met a Turk coming round the corner of a street; he pulled -the trigger of his revolver: nothing happened. He opened it, found it -empty, threw it to the ground with a curse, went for the Turk with his -fist, but was met by a well-aimed bomb, which exploded in his face, -killing him instantly. - -It sounds horrible, but it is war these days. Perhaps I am -over-sensitive, but a lump comes to my throat as I write this, for just -over a month ago Addison and I used to talk about books at the “Warwick -Arms,” Warwick, and the sight of him reading with glasses, smoking his -pipe before the fire of an evening, is still fresh in my memory. It -would have been hard to believe then that such a quiet, reserved soul -would meet his end fighting like a raging lion in the bloody streets of -Sed-el-Bahr a few weeks later. But that has now actually happened, and -similar ends will meet like brave men again and again before this war -is over. - -A little amusing diversion is caused in the afternoon of to-day by a -hare running across the beach, chased by French “poilus,” and being -very nearly rounded up. - -At 5 p.m. while making up my accounts for the day, I hear from the -Asiatic side the boom of a gun, followed by a sound not unlike the -tearing of linen, ending in a scream and explosion. Not very big -shells, and the first, so far, that I have experienced on shore. I look -towards Asia and see a flash in the blue haze of the landscape there, -and over comes another, dropping in the sea near the _Clyde_. They -follow quickly in succession, and each time I see the flash, I duck -with my three stalwart henchmen behind our little redoubt of supplies, -proof only against splinters. The nearest falls but twenty yards away, -and does not explode. I see through my glasses two destroyers creep up -towards the enemy’s shores and fire rapid broadsides. After a few of -these we are left in peace. - -I am once or twice called up on the telephone—a telephone worked by -a signaller lying on the ground, the instrument being in a portable -case. It is strange saying “Are you there?” under these conditions -and with these surroundings. The signal arrangements are excellent. -Calls come in constant succession from “W,” “X,” and “S” Beaches. A -wireless instrument is hard at work, run by a Douglas engine in a tent, -controlled by a detachment of Australians. One of the Australians, a -corporal, offers me a shakedown in his tent for the night, and lends my -men some blankets for their bivouac, which they have constructed out of -my little Supply depot. Owen, O.C. Signals, says that I shall not get -much sleep in the wireless tent, and that I had better share his tent, -which is in a little orchard behind a ruined house close handy. I have -my evening meal of bully, biscuit, and jam, and lighting my pipe, go -for a stroll in the village, but am stopped by sentries, for snipers -are still at large there, and several casualties have occurred to-day -there through their industry. I cannot help admiring the pluck of these -snipers, for their end is certain and not far off. Two mutilated bodies -of our men are lying in a garden of a ruined house, but this case so -far is isolated. We have seen the Turks dressing the wounds of some of -our men captured by them. The Turks appear to be a strange mixture. - - -_April 28th._ - -I awake feeling very fit and refreshed, and find a beautiful morning -awaiting me. Opposite our tent is a little “bivvy,” made of oil-sheets -and supported by rope to one of the walls of the house and a -lilac-tree. A head pokes out from under this “bivvy” with a not very -tidy beard growing on its chin, and the owner loudly calls for his -servant. While making his toilet he joins in a merry banter with Owen, -who is indulging in a cold douche obtained from a bucket of water. -Some of the French having invaded the sanctuary of our walled-in camp, -picking several of the iris growing in the wild grass, the officer with -the beard asks me to tell them to get off his lawn, which I do. I find -later that he is Josiah Wedgwood, M.P., and being interested, get into -conversation with him. He is a most entertaining man, and tells me that -he is O.C. Armoured Cars, but that as it is not possible for his cars -to come on shore, he had been instructed to use his intelligence and -make himself useful, which he was trying to do with a painful effort. - -Finding that I was a Supply Officer, he begs for some tobacco, saying -that he would be my friend for life if I could get him some, which I -manage to do, for yesterday I issued tobacco and cigarettes with our -rations and had some over. I go down to my depot for a wash, shave, and -breakfast. Biscuit and bacon do not go well together. While washing, -shells begin to arrive, bursting on the crest of the hill at the back -of the beach. One or two come near to the beach and a splinter flies -towards us, hitting the boxes behind which we all crowd. The nearest, -so far, so I preserve the splinter. French troops are now in large -numbers on the beach, and I meet my friend the Russian officer who -was on the _Arcadian_. I see General D’Amade and his Staff. A French -officer takes some snaps for me with my camera, as he knows more about -photography than I do, including one of a French machine gun company, -who had then two guns in position screened by branches of lilac at -the entrance to the village. He made fun of them, telling them that -it would have been just as much sense if they had placed a rusty -sewing machine, which happened to be lying near, in position instead. -Looking rather foolish, the gunners pack up and go off somewhere. I -am wanted on the telephone, and hear O’Hara talking at the other end. -He says I am to hand over the remaining supplies to the R.N.D. beach -party, and come back to “W” Beach with the S.S.O., who is coming over. -S.S.O. arrives shortly after. I hand over to the senior officer of the -R.N.D.—a fine old boy with a crown and a star up—who tells me he landed -at “W” Beach on Sunday morning at six, and had joined in the scrapping -himself. - -We go on the _River Clyde_, and from there I take photographs of the -beach and one of the mounds of earth that had proved shelter for those -men whom I had seen from the _Dongola_ crouching for cover on Sunday -morning. We get on to a trawler from the _River Clyde_, which takes -us round to “W” Beach, and I enjoy the brief sea-trip, and it is very -interesting viewing the scenes on shore from the sea. - -Off “W” Beach we get on to a pinnace which takes us alongside a very -good pier, considering the short time the engineers have had to -construct one. On shore I find the K.O.S.B.’s arriving from “Y” Beach, -where they have had a rough handling. “Y” Beach appears to have been -evacuated. I find a lot of officers I know have gone, including Koe, -the Colonel, a very fine type of man. He really should never have come -out, for he was in indifferent health. He was shot in the arm, which -had to be amputated, and he died shortly afterwards. Our depot has -grown, for more supplies have come ashore. Our Colonel and a few more -of the train officers have arrived. We have quite a good lunch. - -I find Phillips, our O.C. Company, has gone inland with some pack -mules. He comes back later with rather depressing news. I hear that -a battle has been started, but I do not pay much attention, for I am -quite accustomed now to the sound of rifle fire and the roar of the -ships’ guns. The battle develops in the afternoon to a general attack -on our part. We are well inshore now, I should say two and a half -miles. Anyway, no bullets are flying about the beach now. All snipers -have been rounded up, one of the worst offenders, a huge fellow, -falling dead from a tree yesterday. - - -_5.30 p.m._ - -Brigade Supply Officers are ordered to find out the location of their -units. Horses can be had on application from D.H.Q. I ask to be allowed -to proceed on foot, and am granted permission, but they rather wonder -why I ask. The honest reason is because I am nervous, and I prefer to -be nervous on foot than a nervous rider on horseback over a difficult -country. I make a bee-line inshore, and after a quick walk of fifteen -minutes or so become intensely interested in what I see. Shells are -passing over my head from the Fleet, but the rifle fire appears to have -died down. Wounded are straggling back in twos and threes, and bearers -carrying the more serious cases, with great fatigue to themselves. To -carry a man two and a half miles over rough ground on a stretcher is -hard work. - -Nearing the line, I pass police forming battle posts, and these, -together with the badges of the wounded men, which are sewn on their -tunics, returning to the beaches, helps me to steer my course. Now and -again I am warned not to go near where snipers are said to be, and -perpetually I trip over thin black wires, which serve for the nonce for -signallers’ cables. Passing a cluster of farm buildings, I arrive at -last at a scene of great activity and feel relieved that I am once more -amongst men. A trench is being dug with forced energy, orderlies are -passing to and fro, signallers at work laying cables, doctors dressing -wounded, and bearers carrying them to the rear. I discover that we have -had a set-back. I learn that we were heavily outnumbered, but that at -5 p.m. the Turks had retreated hastily to almost beyond Krithia, which -lies in flames on the high land in front of me towards the left, and -that actually the Lancashires had been through the village. - -Walking along the line, I find the 86th Brigade, and from them learn -where H.Q. 88th are. On my way there I pass Captain Parker and Major -Lee, of the Hants. Major Lee asks me excitedly if they are getting on -with the digging of the trench, and then asks me to get some water up -to some of his battalion on his right by the French, which I promise to -do this night. Walking further along, I cross a white road of some kind -of paving, and then at last reach my H.Q. I see Thomson, who looks very -ill and tired, but appears very cool and quiet. I shall never forget -his smile when he saw me, saying “Hello, Gillam!” in a quiet voice. I -see Panton busy at dressing wounded, for alongside H.Q. is an advanced -dressing station. On my right I notice French troops hard at work -continuing the digging of the line to the edge of the Dardanelles. - -I find out what is wanted in the way of food and water and where it -is to be dumped, and start off back to the beach. It is twilight and -rapidly getting dark, and it is difficult to find my way back to -the right beach, namely “W.” I remember with a shudder those silent -clumps of bushes and trees, and wonder if snipers are still alert. I -steer my way back by the masts of the ships, the heads of which I can -just see, and I walk as the crow flies over every obstacle I find. I -had learnt at Brigade H.Q. that the white road ran between Krithia -and Sed-el-Bahr, and mentally I made a note of the way I should take -rations on my return journey, namely to Sed-el-Bahr from “W” Beach via -“V” Beach, and thence up the white road. I see three figures ahead -limping, and as I had not seen a soul for fifteen minutes and it is -getting dark now, I finger my revolver, wondering if they are some of -our most trying enemies, the snipers. But that thought is only born -from nerves, for they are limping and must be wounded. On overtaking -them I find that one is an officer, Cox of the Essex, one of those who -had played “The Priest of the Parish” on the _Dongola_ the night before -the landing. He is the only one limping, from a bullet wound in his -calf; he is supported by his arms resting round the shoulders of two -men—one his servant, unwounded, and the other a man wounded through -the arm. Cox tells me he took cover in a nullah when hit, and remained -there all day. Twice the French advanced over him, and twice they -retreated, leaving him between the enemy’s lines. A third time British -and French advanced, and he was rescued and helped back. I wish him -further luck in this war, for luck had befallen him—he an infantryman -and a bullet wound in his leg. I like him rather specially, and feel -glad that he is to be out of it for a while. It is now quite dark and I -have missed my bearings and see a few small lights ahead, and make for -them and am very soon pulled up short by the challenge of a sentry. - -I discover it is signals of D.H.Q. and am directed to H.Q., where I am -interviewed by a G.S. Officer, who asks me the position of troops. I -tell him French on the right, and then 88th, 86th, then 87th. I learn -that I am on Hill 138, the future name of D.H.Q. I am directed back -to “W” Beach and then endeavour to find O’Hara. After fifteen minutes -I find him and report what I had done, and am told that he had learnt -that a dump of rations, ammunition, and water is to be made at Pink -Farm. Learning that Pink Farm is the collection of buildings that I had -struck earlier in the afternoon, I point out that this farm will be -too far to the left for my Brigade, and that I found a convenient site -for the 88th dump on the right of the Sed-el-Bahr–Krithia road, but I -am told that I must have made a mistake. This disturbs me somewhat, as -I feel that I am right. He tells me to come along with him up to Pink -Farm, as pack-mules with rations, ammunition, and water had started for -this dump. We overtake some of them. Further on we meet Carver coming -back on horseback, and he reports where 87th Brigade H.Q. is. I now -see that the reason why they have decided on Pink Farm for a dump is -because Way had come back first and reported where his Brigade was, and -that through Carver and I not having turned up they decided on Pink -Farm as a Divisional dump for all the Brigades. As a matter of fact, -Pink Farm will suit 87th as well as 86th, for it lies between the two, -and rations, etc., from the one dump can be man-handled to the two -Brigades. But for the 88th, the dump is right out of it. - -We meet Phillips, our 88th Transport Officer and O.C. No. 4 Company, a -good soldier; Ford, Q.M. of the Essex; and Grogan, Transport Officer of -the K.O.S.B.’s, a delightful chap; and passing them we arrive at Pink -Farm, where I tell my tale to Colonel Beadon and Major Streidinger. -It is now raining hard, and I have no coat. It is hard work getting -through the clayey mud. They apparently do not consider my statement -that this dump is of no use whatever to the 88th, for a bush that I -can just see a hundred yards away is pointed out, the moon then being -up above the clouds, and I am ordered to go two hundred yards beyond -there, where I will find Thomson and 88th Brigade H.Q., and to arrange -with him for fatigue parties to come back and carry up water. They say -they have just been talking to Thomson. - -This puzzles me, and I start off for that bush. I hate bushes just -now. I pass it and come to a brook full of the loudest-croaking frogs -I have ever heard. Without much exaggeration they made as much row as -a dozen people would, all talking together loudly. Then I pace what I -think is two hundred yards in front of that bush and come to nothing at -all. Remembering that in the dark one hardly ever walks in a straight -line, I alter my course, and walking a few yards, see the rays of an -electric torch shining, towards which I walk quickly. It is immediately -switched out as I approach, and now, feeling cautious, I shout, “Are -you British?” but receiving no answer, I shout once more, and am glad -to receive an answer of “Aye, aye.” I go up to them and find that it is -our front line, and inquire where Brigade H.Q. is. A little light to my -right, but behind rather, is pointed out, to which I go. There I find -Thomson in a trench and give him the message as instructed. The light -of a torch shining on his face shows me a look of annoyance, expressive -of his thoughts that I am a fool. He politely tells me that he wants -rations taken to the spot that he had pointed out in the afternoon. I -find that I am at 86th Brigade H.Q., and that Thomson is but visiting -there for a conference. Having a difficulty in finding my way to Pink -Farm, I make for the front line once more, whence the direction is -pointed out to Pink Farm, for I can only see a hundred yards ahead and -all bushes look alike. I hear the noise of croaking frogs and make for -it. - -It comes from the brook that I had passed, and from there I go towards -what I think is Pink Farm, but find that it is a collection of the -pack-mules under Phillips, and I unload my feelings in horribly bad -language. Then Phillips gives me a packet of cigarettes, which I am -entirely without. I am wet through now to the skin, and dog-tired; -my pocket is full of iron-ration biscuits, and between puffs of my -cigarettes I munch them. Not a sound of a shot, not a flash of a gun. -Old John Turk has had a nasty knock and is over a thousand yards -away. Nothing but the sound of the hiss of the gently falling rain. -I follow the farmer’s track up to Pink Farm and tell my troubles to -Colonel Beadon. Colonel Williams, who had distinguished himself at -Sed-el-Bahr, is there without a coat, and soaked to the skin as I am. I -am instructed to take the remaining mules back to “W” Beach, link any -which I pass, that are on the way up, on to my convoy, and also pick -up any which are starting off from “W” Beach, make one convoy, take -stock and make a note of it, and take the whole through Sed-el-Bahr up -to the spot Thomson had pointed out to me in the afternoon. I think of -the tale of the odd-job man who had been given every imaginable job -in the world by his old lady mistress, and who asked her if her house -was built on clay, as he would very much like to make bricks in his -spare time. I go back to Phillips; the convoy is turned round and off -we trek, I at the head, Phillips in the rear. I meet Davy on the way -up with a convoy of his, and accordingly instruct him to join on to my -convoy. He says, “Look here, Gillam, old boy; you’re fagged out and -are making a mess of things; go back to bed, old boy. I know all about -it, and we have to take these mules to Pink Farm.” I wish Pink Farm -elsewhere, express my feelings to him in forcible language, and finally -convince him under protest. However, we are soon friends again, and his -convoy links up in rear of mine. We hear three reports of a rifle ring -out on our right. A sniper, still undiscovered, at work. We arrive at -“W” Beach, arresting the start of another convoy, which in turn also -becomes part of ours, and I go to find O’Hara. Having found him, I told -him my tale of woe; he says he will come with me to the 88th Brigade; -and after taking stock and tacking a watercart on to the rear of the -column, we trek off to Hill 138. Stopping there, O’Hara has a chat with -the A.P.M., who has been to the 88th H.Q. and assures us that we are -on the right track. On through the ruined village of Sed-el-Bahr we -go, down through a poplar grove enclosing a Turkish cemetery, when we -overtake the C.R.A., riding alone with an orderly. We are on the white -road that I noticed in the afternoon, and the C.R.A. takes the lead, as -he states that a part of the road further up is rumoured to be mined. -Krithia lies ahead on our left in flames, a wonderful sight. - -It has stopped raining; we pass several brooks, and from them comes the -clamouring noise of loudly croaking bull-frogs. We pass one after the -other four white pillars of stone, about a hundred feet in height. On -my right I can see dimly the waters of the Dardanelles. Dawn is just -developing. The C.R.A. raises his hand and we stop. He rides cautiously -forward with his orderly, and after a minute returns and orders us to -follow him. He turns sharply to the left, makes a wide circuit, we -following, and comes out on the white road once more farther up. He -then leaves us and disappears. We continue for three hundred yards, -when I come to the conclusion that we are very near our destination, -tell O’Hara so, and the command is given “Halt!” O’Hara and I walk on -up the road. Not a sound is heard—no shells, no rifle fire whatsoever. -I can see no one about. I look to my right, where Brigade H.Q. should -be, and find nothing but some shallow dugouts. We go off the road to -the right amongst bushes, and trip over a few poor dead Tommies. We -come back to the road. O’Hara thinks I am wrong. Good Lord! supposing -that I am wrong after all this! - -We walk up the road further, and suddenly come to a sentry standing in -a trench on our right. I look to the left and see another trench and a -sentry a little way on, on guard. The road goes on into darkness. I -am smoking a cigarette, and am ordered peremptorily by the sentry on -my right to put it out. We question him, and find that we have arrived -at our front line. Every man of four is on guard, the other three -sound asleep in the bottom of the trench. The sentry tells us that -the Turkish line is a good way ahead, and that he has seen or heard -nothing from there since he has been on guard. He is shivering with -cold, though muffled in his coat, but for all that looks a fine type -of fellow. But he is “pukkah” and 29th as well. Finest troops in the -world, bar none. The finished type of a disciplined British Tommy. Oh! -for six more Divisions of this quality: Achi Baba would have been ours -this day. He directs us to Brigade H.Q. Following his direction, we -turn back down the road and come back to the shallow dugouts. - -During our absence Thomas, of the Essex, and a Naval officer, smoking -a huge pipe and muffled to his ears in his white muffler and blue -overcoat, had arrived. They tell us the dugouts are the 88th Brigade -H.Q. We inquire for Thomson and the rest, and are told that they -have gone to 86th to confer. One by one the little patient mules are -unloaded, and proceed down the road, to wait, and the boxes, rations, -ammunition, and water are spread singly amongst the thick gorse off -the road, so as not to be seen by the enemy in the morning. While -this goes on I talk to the Naval officer, and learn from him that he -is an observing officer for the ships’ guns; he appears a very cool -customer. He tells me that he is a very unlucky man to talk to; that -an officer yesterday was wounded while talking to him, and another -killed last night under the same circumstances. I wish him “Good-night -and good luck,” and go back to the mules, and help to hasten their -unloading by helping myself. Colonel Patterson, O.C. Mule Corps, keeps -on urging upon us the importance of not losing the ropes, as when lost -they are difficult to replace. The last mule being unloaded, we search -for the watercart, but it is nowhere to be found; but tins of water -are up now, and we hear that a well has been found, the water pure -and not poisoned, as we had feared. And so we start to trek back. A -short way back and O’Hara shouts “Halt!” Then he says to me, “Gillam, -where’s that —— mine we’ve heard so much about?” I answer, “Great -Scott!” Somebody behind us gives a muffled cough, and a Tommy, one of -the armed escort, steps forward and in a Tommy’s polite manner says, -“Begging your pardon, sir, but we are standing on it.” O’Hara shouts -“Walk—march!” and we move at a good four miles an hour until we arrive -at the white pillars and the friendly sound of the croaking frogs; we -realize at any rate that we are safe from land mines. Evidently this -mine is a false alarm. Permission to smoke is given, and the Syrian -boys exchange ration cigarettes and chatter to each other in Russian. -Up to now they had been almost entirely silent. We pass many French -troops sleeping in little hastily made camps, and we pass some Zouaves, -looking picturesque in the early morning light in their quaint Oriental -uniforms. And so through the silent cemetery and poplar-trees, through -Sed-el-Bahr, now a large French camp, back past Hill 138 and home to -“W” Beach. I give O’Hara a few of my iron-ration biscuits and almost -stagger to my Supply depot, for I am hardly able to walk any further, -and lie down on my valise, that my servant has thoughtfully laid out -for me, beside the S.S.O. and Colonel Beadon, falling off to sleep with -the satisfaction that to-morrow at any rate the 88th will have their -rations. - - -_April 29th._ - -I wake at eight, but am given permission to sleep all the morning. I -have breakfast. Getting fed-up with biscuit. My servant rigs me up a -“bivvy” and I roll up and go fast asleep. Lord, what a gorgeous sleep -it was! I slept till one, and then had lunch, and after, a shave -and a wash. I did little all day but watch the Fleet firing and the -transports unloading everything imaginable necessary for an army. We -have now rigged up a nice little mess with some ration boxes and a -tarpaulin, and have quite a nice dinner at night with a boiled ham, -bully beef rissoles, and biscuit pancakes. Our chef is “some” chef. A -Naval officer at night, after dinner, is continually shouting “Any more -for the _Arcadian_?” where G.H.Q. is. Reminds me of “Any more for the -_Skylark_?” at Brighton. It is pleasant going to sleep at night with -the sound of the swish of waves breaking on the shore in one’s ears. -The Fleet guns roar away consistently all day. - - -_April 30th._ - -To-day we have some shells on the beach, but not very terrible ones. -Many of them go “fut” in the ground without exploding. If this is all -the artillery they can put up against us, Lord help them! They must be -having hell from the Fleet. - -Go up to Brigade H.Q. via Sed-el-Bahr this morning with a rifle and -dressed as a Tommy. All go up dressed like that now, for snipers are -still about. On past the white pillars to Brigade H.Q., we pass the -bodies, still unburied, of Turks and British—fallen heroes lying broken -amidst wild flowers. I call and see Major Gibbon at his observation -post, but from there can see nothing of the enemy. Before me is a -simple, lovely summer scene; yet amidst the nullahs and the olive -groves, the flowers and barley, Death lurks, alert to claim his toll. -It is a long walk back to “W” Beach via Sed-el-Bahr. Snipers are still -at large, which is remarkable, and we are warned not to walk across -country, though to do so would be much quicker. I pass two snipers as -we arrive back at the white pillars, prisoners in the hands of the -French. One prisoner is limping badly from a wound in the foot. The -French appear to have made themselves very much at home in Sed-el-Bahr. -I pass an officers’ mess and lunch is on. I am surprised at the -delicacies on the table, including many bottles of white wine. We are -still on bare rations, and bully and biscuits at that, but they appear -to have bread, probably from Tenedos, and probably for officers’ messes -only; and they all seem very bright, as if it was a huge joke. As we -are about to enter Sed-el-Bahr a French sentry stops us, and warns us -not to go through the village, as two men have just been sniped. We -pass at the back of “V” Beach. The view from here of the Fleet is -magnificent. Occasionally one sees a whiff of yellow smoke shoot from -the side of a ship, and a few seconds after a deafening report follows. -It takes some getting used to. - -We pass a company of Senegalese manning a trench dug at the back of “V” -Beach. They lie in it, peering over the top, looking inland intently, -as if they expect the enemy, who is more than three miles away, to rush -down on them at any moment. - -I pass General D’Amade at the H.Q. at the back of “V” Beach, and stop -to chat with the French officer who was on the _Arcadian_ with me, -and also a French Naval officer who was on the _Southland_. The Naval -officer inspects my rifle with interest, saying it is the first time -that he has handled one of the short patterns. He tells me that he saw -the fight from the _Andania_ on Sunday morning, and says that he thinks -that it will stand out as the most magnificent fight of the war. - - - - - MAY - - -_May 1st._ - -A few shells, but none very terrible, come over; one, however, in -our depot. Beautiful weather. Heavy rifle fire heard at night. Now -and again a Turkish shell lands over from Achi. The rifle fire last -night was Turkish; nothing happened. Probably “wind up” on their part. -Letters arrive. While sitting on a box reading, a shell comes beastly -near, but bursts in a not very frightening manner twenty yards away. -But I and the few near me fall flat to the ground. I have been advised -to do this by an officer who is an expert in shelling, and he tells -me that by so doing, though a shell may burst ten yards from you, one -should be safe. My servant rolls over and over, shouting “Oh!” and I -rush to him, asking him if he was hit, but find that a stone had caught -him on the forehead, and but for a nasty bruise he was none the worse. -This afternoon I have a bathe off “W” Beach. Crowds are bathing. What -a contrast to this time last week! Only a week ago we landed, and now -“W” Beach is like a seaside resort as far as the bathing is concerned. -I felt in holiday mood, and with that delightful refreshed feeling -that one has after a dip, I strolled along the sand up to the depot -for a cup of tea. But the scream of a shell overhead from Achi, which -fell in the water beyond the bathers, brought my holiday mood to an -abrupt end. The mouth of the Dardanelles and the sea at the end of the -Isthmus is full of warships, from battleships to small destroyers and -their necessary small craft, transports, hospital ships, trawlers, and -lighters. Engineers, French and English, are working feverishly at the -building of piers and finishing those already begun. Stores are being -unloaded, and marquees for their storage are being erected. - -The scene here is extraordinarily interesting. I have never seen such -a motley gathering in my life. The beach is crowded with figures, -all working for dear life. The sea is dotted with lighters, out of -which are being poured all kinds of military stores—wood, sand-bags, -wire-netting, galvanized iron, cooping, and the like; all these things -are being conveyed to the piers and from there put ashore. On the shore -itself parties are at work erecting tents and marquees, and other -parties are hard at work making dugouts, plying picks and shovels with -a will. Here they are erecting the signals station, a contraption of -beams and sand-bags. Outside, wires are being laid, and so the work of -the beach parties goes busily forward. Yet to my untutored gaze the -scene is wonderful. The whole beach is a hopeless mix-up of French and -English, with a good sprinkling of Naval men—presenting a kaleidoscopic -effect, with the afternoon sun shining upon it, such as I have never -seen before. It is of course quite an orderly mob really—but this is -only recognized when one watches the work of one group at a time. -Here is the real business of a military landing on a hostile shore, -everybody knowing what to do and how to do it, and so the work goes on -without a hitch. - -At 7 p.m. I start off with a long convoy of pack-mules with rations -for Brigade H.Q. via the Sed-el-Bahr–Krithia road. At present it is -impossible to use vehicles, for the first line is served by but two -roads, which are nothing but farmers’ tracks. An armed escort of the -Essex Regiment accompanies us. The Padre of the 88th Brigade, who is -just joining, comes along with me, intending to join the Worcesters -in the trenches. Just entering Sed-el-Bahr we are halted by a French -officer, and almost immediately my head feels as if it is blown -off by four spouts of flame stabbing the darkness just a few yards -away, followed almost instantaneously by four deafening reports. A -French “75” battery is in action, and that means business. Almost -immediately after No. 4 gun had fired, No. 1 fired, then No. 2, No. -3, and No. 4 again, and so on, shell after shell following each other -in rapid succession into the night, towards Achi Baba. The gunners, -crouching like cats by their guns, were lit up fitfully by each flash, -disappearing again in the pause of a fraction of a second between each -round. An officer in a dugout behind, with telephone glued to his ear, -shouts incessantly directions as to range, elevation, and depression to -an officer who is standing nonchalantly smoking a cigarette behind the -battery, who in turn shouts orders to the guns. The guns reminded me of -two couple of hounds held in leash at a coursing meeting, barking with -eagerness to be let loose. Our little pack-mules are greatly concerned -at first, but become surprisingly docile as the firing goes on. A sharp -order is given by the French officer standing behind the weapons; the -gunners relax their tense attitudes and begin attending to parts of -the guns. The officer who had first stopped us most charmingly and -politely apologizes in English for delaying us, and our convoy proceeds -on its track. I chat to the Padre; find he is fifty-five years of age -and before the war a peace-loving rector. What circumstances to find -one’s self in after fifty-five years of peaceful life! I record him in -my mind as a very gallant old gentleman. We pass through the French -camp down through the trees to the poplar-grove cemetery, which always -now fills me with a curious awe, so ghostly do the graves look in the -moonlight, lying peacefully amidst the poplar-trees. It is a most -beautiful sight, with the glimmering water of the Dardanelles beyond. - -Ahead on our right the reflection of the bright beam of Chanak -searchlight, swinging round from east to west across the Narrows, can -be seen in the sky, searching for any of our ships, should they make a -dart up the Straits. Past my friends the loudly croaking bull-frogs, -past the stately white pillars, on up the white road that leads to -Krithia and towards our dumping-ground—Brigade H.Q.—the little mules -pad carefully and surely along, led by the Syrian mule-drivers, who -chatter confidentially to each other in Russian, for they now are at -home in their new life, and delight in the thought that they are doing -their bit in the great cause. - -[Illustration: BATHING OFF GULLY BEACH, HELLES.] - -[Illustration: “Y” BEACH, CAPE HELLES, WHERE THE K.O.S.B.’S LANDED ON -APRIL 25, 1915, HAVING TO EVACUATE THEREFROM ON THE FOLLOWING DAY. - -The beach was captured later from the land by the Gurkhas. Its -situation remained close behind our front line during the whole -campaign. The high ground was well within rifle range of the enemy -during the whole campaign. The enemy lines are behind the camera.] - -We arrive at our destination, and lo and behold! no one is there. -Phillips and I confer. I decide to go on with Smith, Q.M. of the Hants, -to find H.Q. We take an orderly each from the armed guard. I take an -Essex man. We follow the white road, and arriving at the front-line -trenches are pulled up short by the “’Alt, who are you?” “Supply -Officer.” “Advance to be recognized.” We advance. Smith asks where -Battalion H.Q. are, and learns they are a hundred yards to our left. -We find, a hundred yards along, a part of the trench dug back a bit to -serve as Battalion H.Q. The trenches are deeper now; one can stand up -in safety, but only just. Smith asks for Captain Reid, the Adjutant; he -steps out to us. We express surprise at the quietness of things. There -is absolutely no firing on our front, but we can hear desultory firing -on our right from the French line. Reid offers us cigarettes and lights -one himself. I remark to him that it is unwise to light a cigarette -standing in the open, to which he replies that the enemy are a long way -away. He directs me to Brigade H.Q., further along the line. I wish him -“Good-night,” and with my orderly proceed cautiously in the direction -he had pointed, for it is now pitch dark. I am challenged again and -again, and find myself after a bit among the Royal Scots, and one of -their officers kindly lends me an orderly, who takes me to Brigade -H.Q., dug in a dry brook, some two hundred yards behind the front line. -Thomson is asleep, and it is with regret that I have to wake him. He -tells me to dump rations in the same place as the last night’s. I start -to go back, steer my way by the front line once more and in the dark -miss the direction, and find myself about to walk across a track which -runs through our front line towards the enemy’s and an alert sentry -bringing me to the halt with a sharp challenge, I find my mistake. I -then leave myself in my orderly’s hands, who takes the lead and guides -me back to the Brigade dump, when I find that Phillips had met Q.M.S. -Leslie and had nearly finished the unloading of the pack-mules. I -really believe that if I had not been challenged and had passed through -our lines towards the enemy’s, my orderly, one of the “doesn’t reason -why” breed, would have calmly followed me. Some one taps me on the -shoulder, and a Tommy asks me, “Where’s your rifle, mate?” I reply -that I haven’t one. He then says, “Ain’t you one of the ’Ants?” and -wonderingly I reply that I am the Supply Officer, and the man brings -himself erect with a sharp click, begging my pardon. The reason of his -mistake then dawned on me; I have on a private’s tunic. - -Our goods delivered, we trek back, and on arrival at Sed-el-Bahr the -sound of heavy rifle fire breaks out, but by the sound it is from our -own rifles. We wonder what is happening, and think ourselves fortunate -that we had finished our job before this activity started. I am in rear -of the column, walking with my orderly about fifty yards behind the -last mule, when I have a bad nerve shock. I have had many during the -past week, but this one takes the biscuit. Out of a hole in the side of -a broken-down house there leaps a French soldier. He shouts something -to me in French and points a rifle, with gleaming bayonet fixed, at my -chest. In days long gone past, it has sometimes happened that one of -my young sisters or a brother with a warped sense of humour would leap -round from the corner of the landing in our early home, just as I might -be passing along, and shout “Boo-h!” I used to go hot and cold with -fright, and appeared to cause intense amusement by my state of nerves. -When this boy sentry, who by his looks could not have been more than -nineteen, jumps out from his hole in the wall, my heart seems to stand -still, until it feels that it is never going to start its job again, -and then with a bound it carries on its job at about ten times its -normal speed. My mouth feels like dry blotting-paper, and all I say is, -“Oh, hell!” at the same time throwing my hands well over my head. My -orderly, who appears most unconcerned, comes to my rescue and says with -a Cockney accent “Ongley,” and our gallant ally brings his rifle to the -order and allows us to pass. - -Previous to this incident I had been chatting to my orderly about -his life in the Army in peace days, but now walk on in silence until -we have overtaken the convoy, finding the mules halted. Suddenly -the French battery that we had passed earlier in the evening opens -a terrible fire. I go along to its position and find that half our -convoy had passed earlier, but that, the battery being suddenly called -into action, the rear half of our column had been ordered to stop. In -the excitement two of the mules get adrift, and with good instinct -trot off to their own lines, ignoring the cries in Russian from their -drivers and the angry bark of the little “75’s.” A halt of ten minutes, -and, again with polite apologies, the pleasant French gunner officers, -wishing us “Bon soir,” allow us to proceed. Home to bed and a good -night’s rest. - - -_May 2nd._ - -A Taube flies over and drops one bomb on our new aerodrome to the left -of Hill 138. One of our machines which is up swings round, heading -straight for it, and quickly drives it back. A couple of aircraft guns -from one of the ships put in some good practice, little white puffs of -shrapnel bursting perilously near. A few wounded come in from a little -show last night, and amongst them are wounded Turkish prisoners. - -We are issuing stores now from one depot for the whole Division, and -to all others who come. Way and Carver are running it. I simply hold a -watching brief for my Brigade, but give a hand when I can in helping -the business to run smoothly. Foley is up the coast a short way at “X” -Beach, running his own depot for the 87th Brigade, and wires constantly -come in from him indenting on us for stores he has not in stock. It -is just like a business store, and we are running short of supplies, -but a Supply ship has come in to replenish our stock and form a large -reserve depot. Our depot is the hot-bed of rumours and news, and we -feel the pulse of the Division through the news that the Quartermasters -and ration parties bring. Bad news has arrived this morning. Captain -Reid, to whom I was talking last night, has been killed, and Major Lee, -his C.O., with him. I inquired as to what time it happened, and learn -that it was at eleven o’clock. I was talking to him at ten. It appears -that shortly after I had left him, word was passed down the trench for -C.O.’s and Adjutants to go to the end of the trench to meet the Staff. -Major Lee, accompanied by Captain Reid, immediately went, and met two -officers dressed in khaki with Staff tabs. One of these officers fires -a revolver in Major Lee’s face, killing him instantly, while the other -murders Captain Reid. In their turn they were quickly bayoneted by -Lee’s and Reid’s orderlies. The line is attacked by some two hundred -Turks, who are met in the open by our men and quickly retire, getting -hell from the French “75’s” in doing so. The two officers dressed in -our Staff uniform proved to be Germans, and their action was an attempt -to break our line. - -I hear also that Godfrey Faussett, Colonel of the Essex, has been -killed. This upsets me far more than danger, and I have the nightmare -question running in my head sometimes now, when talking to my friends -or seniors whom I knew so well in England, “I wonder if I shall see you -alive again.” - -A few snipers have been caught, and they present a weird and uncanny -appearance. They wear uniforms of green cloth, to which in some cases -are attached or sewn sprigs of gorse-bush and small branches of trees. -Their rifles, hands, and faces are painted green, and they can be -passed unnoticed at but a few yards’ distance. Most of them have been -found in holes and dugouts underneath clusters of bushes, with two or -three boxes of ammunition, and enough bread and water to ration them a -fortnight. - -This morning the Fleet and the few guns which are on shore are -bombarding the Turkish positions heavily, and the slopes of Achi Baba -are alive with bursting shrapnel and spouts of earth and smoke shooting -skywards, but through it all Achi Baba looks calm, dignified, and -formidable, like a great giant saying “Thus far and no further.” Verily -it looks the fortress gate of the Peninsula, and we are but on the -threshold, or rather on the footpath leading to the threshold. Turkish -artillery replies but feebly with shrapnel, but the shooting appears -good. - -I hear the crackle of rifle fire and learn that we are again attacking. -Good luck to the 29th! - - -_Afternoon._ - -Guns of the Fleet and shore batteries steadily boom away. Rifle fire -has died down. Wounded are beginning steadily to come in, and as fast -as possible are evacuated on to hospital ships. I go up to Headquarters -and find site for dump for rations retired somewhat. I passed many -wounded and stretcher-bearers coming back. I saw Colonel Williams, our -new Brigadier, calmly walking about in the most exposed positions. A -regiment of Gurkhas are on the right of our line, and those in support -have dug themselves each a little dugout, just room enough for a man -to lie in, rolled up. These little dugouts are in regular lines, and -each one being occupied with a little Gurkha makes a most quaint scene. -I take snaps of one or two, to their intense delight. They look very -workmanlike in their shirts, wide hats, and shorts. - -It is now dusk and we hear that we advanced, but soon after had to -return to our former positions. We are now badly outnumbered. The enemy -have lately received many reinforcements, and are receiving them daily. -We want several more Divisions to carry this business through. We have -dinner, and I go to bed rather depressed. Heavy rifle fire bursts out -at night, and in the middle of the night our Adjutant has to get up and -organize a convoy of pack-mules to take up ammunition. - - -_May 3rd._ - -It is a perfect morning, but it is getting very hot. I ride up about -10 a.m. with the company sergeant-major to as far as the furthest of -the white pillars, and there we tether our horses to a tree and walk -the rest of the way up the white road. All is absolutely quiet on the -front—not a shell, not a rifle shot. - -All firing from the Fleet has ceased, and the gunners on shore are busy -cleaning their guns and digging gun-pits and dugouts. It is quiet and -peaceful. At the front line I cannot see any signs of the enemy. I chat -with Major Barlow of the Essex, who was at Warwick with me. He is now -O.C. Essex. It is strange being without the roar of the guns once more. - -The Fleet has been treated to rather a hot reception, and finds it -advisable to lie a little further down the entrance to the Straits, -which it accordingly does. The mouth of the Straits looks glorious: -the intense blue of the sea, with the warships and transports with -their motley collection of lighters, picket boats, etc., all stand out -strongly against the steely blue of the sky. Further off, the lovely -Isle of Imbros shimmers like a perfect gem set in a sapphire sea. -One can just make out the lovely violet tints of her glorious vales, -tempered by the pearly grey mists that lightly swathe her mountain -crests, as she stands out sharp against the sky. A beautiful sight and -not easily forgotten. Looking landward, the trees are all bursting into -leaf, the country is wrapped about in a cloak of flowers and flowering -grasses, with Achi Baba as a grim and rugged sentry, its sides sloping -away to the sea on either hand. Truly a grim and forbidding sentinel, -but one which most certainly has to be passed if we are to do any good -at all. - -To-day an enterprising Greek landed in a small sailing vessel with a -cargo of oranges, chocolate, and cigarettes, and in a very short time -was quite sold out. We shall be having a Pierrot troupe on the beach -next. - -At night as the moon rises to the full the picture is perfect. The -coast of Asia—that land of mystery and romance, with the plains of -Troy in the background, immortalized for ever by the sweet singers of -ancient Greece. One can almost picture those god-like heroes of the -past halting in those titanic fights which their shades perhaps wage -nightly in the old battlefields of Troy, halting to gaze in wonder and -amazement on the strange spectacle unfolded before them—modern war, -that is, and all its attendant horrors. Hector, Achilles, and Agamemnon -in their golden harness—their old enmities forgotten—must surely gaze -in astonishment on the warlike deeds and methods of another age than -theirs. The soft, shimmering sea merges into liquid silver where in the -dim distance the little wavelets lap around the silent sleeping isles. -There is Tenedos, standing like a sugarloaf in a silver bowl, silent as -the night itself, and filled with mystery. Further off Imbros, that -queen of the isles, sleeps like a goddess wrapt about in a garment of -violet and silver, all unheeding apparently of war’s alarms—surely on -such a night as this the mythology of the ancients becomes a living -thing, and it does not tax the intellect much to imagine Diana, queen -and huntress, surrounded by her attendant maidens, pursuing the quarry -through the violet vales of the isles. Again, one can almost hear the -splashing of Leander as he swims the Hellespont to keep his tryst with -the lovely Hero. - -Most of those living on the beach have dugouts now, but I still live in -a little house made of biscuit-boxes. The Royal Scots came into action -the first time last night. The Munsters were taken by surprise and had -their trench rushed, and the Royal Scots were given the job to retake -it, and cleared the trench of the enemy with two platoons at the point -of the bayonet in twenty minutes. Greek civilian labour has now been -landed, and we use them for unloading the lighters. A Turkish spy could -with ease pass himself off as a Greek labourer of one of the gangs. -Personally, I think we are making a mistake in employing them. - -Carver tells me that the other day he noticed one sitting half-way down -the cliff in full view of Yen-i-Shehr, waving to and fro a fly-whisk -with a metal band fastened round the handle which clasped the ends -of the horsehair; he feels confident that by the way he was waving -the whisk, with the rays of the sun reflecting from the metal band, -he was signalling by code to the Turkish observation post on Asia. I -think it was quite possible for him to do so, for a bright piece of -metal reflecting the strong rays of the sun in the clear atmosphere of -this part of the world can be seen a long way off, and I should say -quite easily as far off as Yen-i-Shehr is from “W” Beach. To a casual -passer-by the Greek would appear to be waving flies away from his face -with the whisk. Flies are daily becoming numerous here. One of the -Greek foremen, who spoke English, assured me that it was only a matter -of weeks now before Greece would come in on our side, and that he -looked forward to the day when he would take his place in the ranks. - -It is strange how very silent everything is to-day—not a gun nor a -rifle shot—and we stroll about the beach chatting with the Naval -officers. - - -_Afternoon._ - -I hear that there was an armistice declared for the purpose of burying -the dead of both sides. It lasted about two hours, during which both -Turks and our men sat on their respective parapets watching each other -with interest while parties were out in front, mixing freely with each -other, clearing away their own dead. It was an extraordinary situation. -One of the Turks picked up two of our live bombs which had fallen short -and had failed to explode, and was making back to his trench with them, -when his officer, spotting him, called him back and made him hand the -bombs back to our men, and apparently gave him a good cursing in strong -Turkish. A short time after, both sides are back in their trenches, and -if a head should appear over the parapet of either side it is in danger -of being promptly blown off. - -At dinner I express the thought that I wished Turkey would throw over -the Germans and become our allies. Our Tommies and theirs were so near -this morning, and, by God! they would fight well side by side. I say -that Turkey is the most valuable asset to have on either side. If she -were our ally the Dardanelles would be open to the Allies, and the -Central Empires would be utterly defeated in a year. As an enemy she -will cause the war to drag on Lord knows how long, providing we are -unsuccessful in forcing the Straits. I am “howled down,” and am told -that Achi Baba will be ours in a month’s time, and once ours, Turkey -is finished. But strolling up to the top of the cliff after dinner, I -take a long look at Achi. Ours in a month? I wonder. I turn, depressed -and pessimistic, into my house of biscuit-boxes, and bless the man who -invented sleep. - - -_May 4th, 5th, 6th._ - -Nothing much to record. Have been very busy these last few days forming -a Supply depot of my own for the 88th Brigade. I go up to Brigade each -day, riding as far as the white pillars, but go bang across country -now and not through Sed-el-Bahr. Our line is quite deep and well dug -in now. Firing going on steadily at night. Quite heavy rifle fire, but -it is mostly Turkish. I learn that at night he gets the “wind up” and -blazes away at nothing. One or two parties have made sorties, but our -machine guns have made short work of them. The Division is like one -big family party; we all know each other so well now, and one can go -through the trying vicissitudes of war with greater vigour if with men -who have become intimate friends. The horrible part is losing friends; -much worse, I think, than having to go oneself. Good friends leave -such a large gap. Tommies seem pretty cheerful at night on the beach. -After dinner we sit outside our biscuit-box houses and have coffee -(not a word! I got some coffee by exchanging jam with a Frenchman the -other day—strictly against rules), and looking out to sea, enjoy some -excellent cigars of the C.O.’s. “Any more for the _Arcadian_?” is -constantly shouted out by a Naval officer on the beach, calling those -who live at G.H.Q. who are billeted on the _Arcadian_ to the pinnace. -I often wish I could say “Yes” one night, and go on board and have a -good bath and a whisky and soda. Tommies play on mouth-organs and sing -Tommy’s tunes. At Lemnos, Tommy was marching round the decks of the -transports singing “Who’s your Lady Friend?” A few days after he goes -through one of the most sanguinary fights of the war; a week after he -is on the beach with a mouth-organ making a horrible execution of “A -Little Grey Home in the West.” A unique creation, the British Tommy. -If he ever does think of death or getting wounded, he always thinks -it will be his pal and not he who will get hit, and goes on with his -mouth-organ, washing his shirt, or writing to his latest girl at the -last town he was billeted in. Those with girls are the cheeriest. - - -_May 7th._ - -To-day we are bombarding Turkish positions heavily and the village of -Krithia preparatory to advancing our lines to the slopes of Achi Baba -in the hope of my Brigade taking the hill. In the morning I issue at my -dump, and after lunch ride with Carver and Sergeant Evans to find our -respective Brigades. We ride up the west coast across grass and gorse, -and arriving at a gully, encounter shell fire, which is now getting -more frequent. We leave our horses with an orderly at this gully and -proceed on foot, skirting the edge of the coast. Shells are bursting -furiously over Krithia, which is again on fire. We reach a very deep -and beautiful gully, which appears to run inland some long way, and -we climb down its slopes to the shore. There we find an advanced -dressing station, to which wounded are continually being brought by -stretcher-bearers, or helped along by R.A.M.C. men. Several of the -wounded are R.A.M.C. also. - -I inquire at a tent, which is a signal station, of the Signal Officer -in charge, as to the location of 88th Brigade H.Q., and learn that -they are inland. We chat awhile to this officer, who appears strangely -familiar to me, and at last I place him. I find that I dined with him -four years ago in Edgbaston, and his name is Mowatt, a Birmingham -Territorial in business on his own, which through the war has gone to -the winds. He tells me he has been here for four days and is often -troubled by snipers. They had caught one four days previously in a -dugout which, facing the gully, allowed his head and shoulders to -appear, giving sufficient room for him to take aim through a screen -made by a bush growing in front. The entrance to his dugout was from -the cliff side facing the sea, along a passage ten yards in length. He -gave himself up, though he had food and water for some days more. As -we talk, two wounded limp down the gully through the water, for the -bottom of the gully is in parts a foot deep in water, and I question -them as to how they were wounded. They reply, “Either spent bullets or -snipers,” and that they were hit about a mile further up the gully. - -We go back, climbing up the cliff, and walk along the cliff’s edge to -where we had left our horses. A detachment of New Zealanders, I should -say about a thousand, are moving slowly in several single files across -the gorse to take their place on the left of our line to relieve -some Gurkhas, and I have a good opportunity of studying them at close -quarters. I am struck by the wonderful physique of the men, all of them -in splendid condition. I am rather surprised to see them, for I thought -that they were up country with the Australians. I leave Carver at this -point, and Sergeant Evans and I cut across country, and trotting up the -track which is now called the West Krithia road, reach Pink Farm. We go -beyond there, find H.Q. in a trench, and learn that rations are to be -dumped at Pink Farm. We are warned that we should not be riding about -there, as we might draw shell fire. Krithia is getting it terribly hot -from our shells, and is well on fire now. We learn that the French have -had a check, and that we in consequence have been unable to advance. We -come back and have a delightful canter all the way back to “W” Beach. I -have a meal, and then, with Williams, at dusk escort rations, this time -in limber-wagons as well as on pack-mules, up the West Krithia road to -Pink Farm, where I find Leslie waiting, and we come back on a limber, -I squatting on the rear half and Williams in front; quite an enjoyable -ride. Star shells are now in use, and they go up at odd intervals, -poising in the air for a second and then sailing gracefully to earth, -illuminating the immediate vicinity. It was fairly quiet all night; -just an odd shell or two fired by our Fleet at intervals. - - -_May 8th._ - -Before breakfast this morning I am ordered to take two hundred -rations up to some Lancashire Fusiliers (Territorials) who have found -themselves in our part of the line. Arriving at Pink Farm, shrapnel -begins to come over, and I get the mules under cover of the farm as -best I can and go on to H.Q. I continue to walk along the road, and -then cut across the open country to the trench where the Brigade are. -They are sitting in the trench having breakfast, and tell me that the -Lancashire Fusiliers have now gone to the beach. Festin, of the Border -Regiment, is now our Brigade Major, and he asks me to take a message -to the Field Company of Engineers attached to the Brigade, just -behind Pink Farm, off the road. As we talk, shrapnel bursts over Pink -Farm and to its left, probably trying to get at a battery which is in -position there. I take my leave, and on getting back to Pink Farm I -find that one of the Syrian mule-drivers has been hit in the stomach by -a shrapnel bullet. He is lying on the ground behind the walls of the -farm groaning, and on seeing me cries piteously to me in Russian. I -send over to an Indian Field Ambulance close by, and in a few minutes -two native orderlies come running over noiselessly with a stretcher. -They stoop down, and with the tenderness of women lift the wounded boy -on to the stretcher and carry him away. We trek back, and on the way I -deliver the message to the Field Company. - -For transport we now have little A.T. two-wheeled carts, known in -the Indian Army as ammunition transport, drawn by two little Indian -mules. These are in camp near the lighthouse, between “W” Beach and “V” -Beach. Delightful place this, and most interesting. The orderliness of -everything is astonishing; the quaint little tents—oblong, with sloping -sides—are arranged in neat rows. The inhabitants are surely the most -cleanly people on earth. Here I see groups of them, stripped except -for a loin-cloth, busy washing their shining, dusky bodies. After -this, little brass jars are produced, from which oil is poured over -them and rubbed in. Others, having finished this, are industriously -combing their long black locks and bushy beards. Others, again, are -making chupatty, a species of pancake, in broad, shallow metal bowls—I -taste one and find it excellent. Other groups of these dark warriors -are sitting outside their little tents smoking hookahs; all the men we -meet salute punctiliously. Near by are the white officers’ tents, quite -luxurious affairs. The whole place is delightful and looks almost like -a riverside picnic, only everything is very orderly. As to the carts -before mentioned, these are most ingenious. They are little two-wheeled -affairs with a pole, like the old-fashioned curricle; each is drawn by -two small mules, not larger than ponies. Wonderful little fellows they -are, bred in Northern India—Kashmere and Thibet, I believe. Lord! how -they work—they can pull almost anything, and they are so surefooted and -the little carts so evenly balanced that they can go about anywhere. -It is a very interesting sight to see a convoy of these carts on the -move, with their dusky, turbaned drivers sitting crouched up like -monkeys on them, chanting some weird Oriental ballad as they go, to the -accompaniment of jingling harness. They are well looked after, too, -these little mules—the drivers have had the care of them for years, -perhaps—and their training is perfect. They look as fat as butter, and -their coats shine like satin—very different from the hulking, ugly -brutes that we have brought—American. They appear to be quite docile, -and it is not necessary to have eyes in the back of your head when -walking through their lines. - -I hear to-day that Major Barlow, to whom I was talking a few days ago -in the trenches, has been badly wounded. - -One aeroplane has been very busy going out and coming back after short -trips over the enemy’s positions, followed by little puffs of bursting -shrapnel when over their lines. The weather is perfect. - -_Swiftsure_ and _Queen Bess_ are now up the coast off the gully, and -are giving the left slope of Achi Baba and Krithia something to write -home about. Torpedo destroyers are also joining in, and later the shore -batteries take up the tune, and a bombardment similar to yesterday’s -starts, preparatory to another battle. - -French “75’s” are barking away incessantly, and the bombardment is -increasing in ferocity. - -New Zealanders are on the extreme left, then the 87th Brigade, next -the 88th and 86th, or what is left of it, with the new Territorial -Lancashire Fusiliers. Next come Australians, up on the hill by the -White House; and on the extreme right down to the edge of the Straits, -the French. The line forms the shape of a ◡, the extremes resting on -ground on either side of the Peninsula. - -Through glasses at six o’clock I can see little figures running here -and there on the high ground to the extreme right beyond the White -House—now taking cover, now running forward, now disappearing on the -other side; ugly black shells rain amongst them and make a sickening -sight. Turkish artillery appears to have increased considerably. Their -shells rain all along our line, but none come on the beaches. All their -artillery seems concentrated on our trenches. Again and again I see -shells fall right in the middle of men who seem to be running. It is -difficult to discern whether they are Turks or our men. - -I watch till the sight sickens me, and then I come away and arrange -the rations to go up to-night, seeing the boxes roped up on to the -pack-mules or loaded on to the A.T. carts. Two shells come near the -beach, bursting with a black explosion in the air. Rifle fire goes on -all night, but artillery dies down to fitful shelling. I hear that the -net result of to-day’s work is a gain of five hundred yards, but that -we have had great casualties. - - -_May 10th._ - -Another most perfect day. All day yesterday wounded were being -evacuated as fast as possible. I now have to feed a Brigade of -Australians as well as my own Brigade. I go up in the morning to their -positions, and for the first time get amongst them at close quarters. -They have honeycombed the land near the white pillars with dugouts and -have their H.Q. at the White House on the hill. I see Captain Milne, -their Supply Officer, and arrange matters with him. - -Our Vet. (Hyslop) and Sergeant Evans ride to-day with me and we call -at our Brigade H.Q., now moved some few hundred yards behind their -former position of a week ago, dug in a dry nook surrounded by trees, -in a spot similar to a park of some large house in England. Their -mess is simply a table of earth dug out by digging a square trench -in which they sit, the centre of the square being the table. There -I find Colonel Williams, Thomson and our new Brigade Major. I find -that Festin was wounded yesterday whilst standing up in the trench in -which I was talking to him the day before. Troops have found little -springs and an ancient well, and so there is now a plentiful supply -of water—and beautiful water too. In addition to Australians and the -Punjabis in camp by the white pillars, there are now Lancashire -Fusiliers and Manchesters, the whole making one large camp of dugouts -and trenches in orderly rows. - -It is fortunate that there is very little rain, otherwise the place -would be a quagmire in five minutes. - -The Punjabis have built walls of mud and stone shell-proof shelters, -and are much handier at making themselves comfortable than our white -troops. In the battle of the 8th the Australians showed marvellous dash -and individual pluck—not a straggler among them. Many deeds of great -heroism were performed, and if a man gets an honour in their ranks it -will be one worth having. - -It is difficult to pick up exactly our front-line trench, and the Q.M. -of the Worcesters the other day, finding a trench containing Munsters, -inquired as to the whereabouts of his regiment, and was told that they -were on in front; he walked on, and finding nothing, came back. He was -told that if he walked much further “he wouldn’t ’arf get Worcesters.” -He was walking bang into the enemy’s lines. - -Two aeroplanes are up to-day, circling energetically around the slopes -of Achi Baba. - -Our batteries are busy, steadily plugging shells into the enemy’s lines. - -An aeroplane is up and the Turks are trying to pot it. Aeroplane sails -up and down Turkish lines unconcerned. - -The curious thing about being under shell fire is that when a shell -comes near you, you duck down and take cover, and immediately after -resume your conversation. - -This morning at the white pillars I said to the Australian officer, -“What is your strength?” He said, “Look out!” Down we bobbed. A sound -like tearing linen, ending in a shriek and a bang. Up we jump, and he -calmly continues the conversation. - -Met Duff, my H.A.C. pal, again; so funny seeing him; both of us ride -together. Last time we rode together was at Goring, side by side in B -Sub., A Battery. Never thought that we should both be officers riding -side by side on the Gallipoli Peninsula. Have a delightful bathe off -“W” Beach to-day; the water crowded with bathers, French and English. -By far the best bathing I have ever had in my life. - - -_May 11th._ - -Rather cloudy to-day, and much cooler. Rode up to Brigade H.Q. with -Hyslop, to the same place as yesterday. Saw Australian Supply Officer. -As I was talking to him a few shells came over our way—not singly, -but by twos and threes. I have got used to the sound of them passing -through the air now, and know by the sound whether they are coming my -way or not. Again, as yesterday, the Australian officer gave me the -warning “Look out!” and we dived for a dugout. The Australians get -awfully amused when they see people doing these dives out of the way of -shells, and it certainly does look humorous. - -My Brigade is moving back to the reserve trenches for a rest, and they -need it. The reserve trenches are those by the white pillars, occupied -at present by the Lancashires and Manchesters (Territorials). I meet -General D’Amade and his Staff, including the officer that I knew on the -_Arcadian_. They are all riding. He stops me, asking if I have seen -General Parish, the Australian General. I express regret that I have -not, at which he appears annoyed. One of his Staff asks me to point out -29th D.H.Q., and I direct him to Hill 138, in rear of us. I point out -the Australian camp to the General, who goes off then to inquire for -General Parish. - -I leave Hyslop, who has another job on, and start to ride back across -country, having a few jumps over the new rest trenches. I am overtaken -by an officer who is the Adjutant of one of the Lancashire Fusiliers -(Territorial) Battalions, the 6th, I think. Lord Rochdale is in -command. He tells me that they have been in Egypt training for a long -time, and cursing their luck at being seemingly sidetracked, with not -much opportunity of seeing any active service. Suddenly they were -wired for, and in twenty-four hours left Egypt for here. On arrival -they marched straight up to the trenches, and at 5.30 p.m. the next -day went into action and lost heavily. As I was being told all this I -heard a most weird noise, as if the whole of the sky were being rent -in two, ending in a deafening explosion, and looking over my shoulder -in surprise, I see twenty-five yards to my left, over a little mound, -a spout of smoke and earth and stones flung into the air. I say to my -companion, “I think we had better trot,” which we do. It is strange, -but my old horse did not seem to worry much when the shell burst. It -must have been a 6-inch, and is the first big one that I have had near -me so far, and may it be the last. Its sound is unlike that of any -shell I have heard up to now, and far noisier in its flight; I think -that if they chuck these sort about on the beach I shall be jumpy in a -very short time. I only hope the beaches are out of range, or will be -before very long. Evidently they have a new gun. At times I feel very -optimistic, looking forward confidently to our trip over Achi Baba; -at other times Achi Baba looks so forbidding that I feel we shall all -spend the rest of our lives hanging on to this tiny bit of land. I can -canter to Brigade H.Q. from the beach in fifteen minutes, and walk from -there to the front line in another fifteen, and that gives an idea of -how far we are on. I ride over to the aerodrome—we are fortunate in -finding such a perfect one—and over to “V” Beach, which the French -have got into a much more shipshape order than ours. I count seven -battleships and seven destroyers up the entrance as far as Morto Bay; -the “packet of Woodbines” is still off the Asiatic coast and touches -up Yen-i-Shehr and Kum Kale with 10-inch shells. From the high ground -overlooking “V” Beach the Fleet at the entrance makes an imposing -spectacle, waiting for the Army to open the gates of the Straits before -they dash through to the Marmora. The _Goliath_ and _Prince George_ -fire odd shots now and again at Chanak. Late in the afternoon we get a -few light shells over on “W” Beach and a few men are slightly hit. In -a little gully between “W” Beach and “X” Beach preparations are being -made to start a field bakery, and we are promised real bread in a few -days. One of our mares has given birth to a foal; my mare, much to the -mother’s annoyance, is much interested. - -Our train is in camp now on the high ground on the left of “W” Beach -looking inland, and have made very good lines. All the men have built -little shelters out of wagon-covers, sail-cloths, and tarpaulins, in -rows opposite their horse lines, the whole looking like a well ordered -gipsy encampment. I made myself very unpopular there to-day by saying, -“You won’t ’arf cop it in a day or so when John Turk finds you out.” - -Saw General Hunter-Weston making a tour of the beaches to-day. He -appeared in very good spirits. Our trenches in the front line are now -getting quite deep, and sand-bagged parapets are being rapidly built. -The Gurkhas do not like trench warfare at all, and cause much anxiety -to their white officers by continually popping their heads over to have -a look round. The Turkish line has crept much nearer to ours since the -last battle, and they are also rapidly digging in. A party of Gurkhas -were ordered out to capture a machine gun in an emplacement on an -advanced knoll in front of the Turkish right and our left. The gun was -captured, and one little Gurkha brought back a Turk’s head, and it was -difficult to make him part with it. Heavy firing broke out at eleven -o’clock to-night and lasted an hour or two. - - -_May 12th._ - -It is raining hard this morning, and very cold as well. I visit the -Senegalese camp at “V” Beach. They are physically very well built men, -well up to the average of 6 feet in height. They are as black as coal, -with shiny faces, like niggers on Brighton beach, and very amusing -in their manners. At the last battle they charged magnificently with -horrible yelling, frightening the poor Turk out of his wits. They are -equipped with wide, square-bladed knives about 14 inches long. - -Wireless news is now typed and published nearly every day. To-day we -hear that the _Lusitania_ has been sunk and that Greece and Italy are -likely to come in. An extract from a Turkish paper says that we have -been pushed into the sea, and almost in the same paragraph that “the -foolish British will persist in attacking.” - -We have quite a comfortable little house now at our Supply depot on the -beach, made out of boxes with a sail-cloth overhead. - -Hardly any firing to-day. Shore batteries remarkably quiet, but Fleet -firing intermittently. - - -_Afternoon._ - -Go to Brigade H.Q. in the afternoon and find the rest camp at the white -pillars an absolute quagmire of mud, many of the dugouts being half -full of water. Two 60-pounder guns are now in position on the cliff -to the west of “W” Beach, and this afternoon I go up to have a look -at them firing. Their target is at a range of 9,600 yards, well up on -the left shoulder of Achi Baba, and an aeroplane is up observing for -them. The flame of the explosion shoots out some feet from the muzzle -and from the breach also, and makes a terrific roar, which echoes all -round the ships lying off, the sound playing ducks and drakes from one -ship to another. One can see with the naked eye the shell hitting its -target on Achi Baba. Our Fleet gets busy again, and later the batteries -on shore join in, and a bombardment starts. At 6.45 p.m. the Gurkhas -come into action on the left, and quite a big battle develops. We can -just see the men through glasses. Crowds from the beach flock up on -to the high ground to have a look, getting into direct line with the -60-pounders, much to the Gunner Officer’s annoyance, and police finally -are posted to keep them out of the way. A shell exploding with a black -burst over our heads, but very high, causes the watching crowd to -scatter in a somewhat amusing fashion. Gregory and I move forward to a -trench in front and look at the battle through glasses. All I can see -now is a host of bursting shells on the left and intermittent shelling -on the right and centre. Suddenly another of these black devils of -shells bursts over our heads and covers me with small hot cinders which -sting. We go back to dinner whilst the battle is still going on. - - -_May 13th._ - -At two o’clock this morning I was awakened by a most curious noise. It -sounded like thousands of men off “V” Beach crying and shouting loudly. -Shortly after I see searchlights, about eight of them, flashing from -the battleships at the entrance to the Straits. The noise goes on for -about half an hour and then suddenly ceases. I stand for a few minutes -puzzling what it is, and watching the searchlights still wielding their -beams of light around, and then turn in again. - -At 6 a.m. I am told that the _Goliath_ has been torpedoed and sunk. A -Turkish destroyer came down the Straits and got her clean amidships, -and she sank in half an hour. I hear that half the crew is lost. The -destroyer, if seen at all, disappeared in the darkness. Poor old -_Goliath_! and it was only the other day that I was watching her in -action. - -We now move our depot upon the high land on the left of “W” Beach and -further inshore, and divide it into four, one for Divisional troops -and one for each Brigade. While on this job at 7 a.m. I hear the sound -of bagpipes coming nearer and nearer. It is the first time that I have -heard bagpipes since I was on the _Southland_ with the K.O.S.B.’s. -Sure enough it is the K.O.S.B.’s, “all that are left of them,” some -three hundred strong out of the strength of eleven hundred that they -landed with from the _Southland_. They come swinging down to the beach -with one officer at their head, and to see them marching well behind -the inspiring skirl of bagpipes almost brings tears to my eyes. Three -hundred left out of a crack Scottish battalion, average service of each -man five years. I ride up to Brigade again this morning and find all -very quiet on the front. I hear that we were successful in yesterday’s -and in last night’s battle, and that the Gurkhas have taken a large -important bluff on our extreme left on the other side of the gully. - -I bathe in the afternoon, and while enjoying the pleasure of doing -side-strokes with the sea having a slight swell on, I hear that -terrible rending noise of a 6-inch shell, similar to those that dropped -near me the other morning, which “bursts with a bang at the back of -the beach.” My bathing is promptly brought to an end, and I go back -to my “bivvy.” I feel safer there, somehow, but why I should I cannot -explain. But all who have been under shell fire will bear me out in -the statement that even if one is in a tent one feels more confident -under shell fire than if in the bare open, with the exception, of -course, of when one is caught under it going to some definite place or -finishing some urgent definite work. Then one’s mind is concentrated -on getting to that place or finishing that job. But sitting down on -the beach hearing the heavens being torn asunder by an unseen hand, -as it were—the noise of the tearing developing into a mighty hiss and -shriek, ending in a great explosion which shakes the earth under your -feet and echoes far away into the distance, followed by the whine of -flying pieces of hot metal, sometimes very near your head—is a most -disconcerting and unnerving position in which to find oneself. - -For the benefit of those who have been so fortunate as to never have -heard a shell burst in anger, a slight description of it may prove -interesting. The first thing one hears is a noise like the rending -of linen, or perhaps the rush of steam describes it better. This -gets louder and louder, and then, as the projectile nears the end of -its journey, one hears a whine, half whistle, half scream, and then -the explosion. If it is very near there is an acrid smell in the -air. One’s feelings are difficult to describe. You duck your head -instinctively—you feel absolutely helpless, wondering where the thing -will burst, and as you hear the explosion a quick wave of feeling -sweeps over you as you murmur, “Thank Heaven, not this time!” - -Unfortunately, they have got the range of our beach accurately now, and -are beginning to do real damage. The little shells that we had earlier -did not frighten us much, but these beastly things make us all jumpy. - -Several men have been hit to-day, and about a dozen horses and half a -dozen mules killed. All are taking cover as best they can. If one hits -this bivouac where I am now writing, this Diary comes to an untimely -end. - -I wish our aeroplanes could find this gun; it appears so close up to -us, and if it takes it into its head to fling these beastly things -about all day long, this beach will be untenable. A damned fool near me -has just said, “If they go on much longer they will hurt somebody.” I -chuck a book at his head. - -In France they do get a chance of rest behind the scenes now and again, -but here it is one constant “Look out!” and down we bob. After a bout -of shelling one imagines shells coming. For instance, when an aeroplane -sails over, people duck their heads, as it sounds just like a shell; -and then also there are so many ships in harbour that one is constantly -hearing the noise of escaping steam, sounding just like a shell. - -One of our men has just had the side of his boot torn away; -fortunately, however, only the skin of his foot was grazed and bruised. - -Fifty horses have now been killed, and three men killed and a few -wounded. - -Had to go on duty at depot at head of beach. Shelling stopped. Finished -duty 6.45. Shell immediately came, and I fell flat behind some hay. -After that a few more came over and then stopped. - - -_May 14th._ - -Big gun started searching the beach with large high explosive shells -at four, for two hours. Every one had to take cover. Aeroplane -reconnaissance cannot locate gun, which is a damned nuisance. They -come with a terrific scream and burst with a deafening explosion, most -upsetting to one’s nerves. We all take cover behind the cliff. Not a -soul can be seen on the beaches. All animals are removed to down under -the cliff. - -Casualties, twenty-three mules and three men wounded. - -One piece of shell fell at my feet, and I picked it up, only to drop it -quickly, as it was so hot. - -After being under fire of such awful shells one laughs at mild shrapnel. - -Getting very hot, but perfect weather. - -Saw Laird for a few minutes and had a chat with him. - -Not much time for writing to-day. Go up to Laird’s “bivvy” and have a -long talk with him over old times. He landed on that first Sunday on -“S” Beach, and though in the Engineers, had the experience of taking -part in three bayonet charges. He was in a neat little dugout when I -went up, and was busy looking for a scorpion. I helped him look for -it, and it seemed so strange that after all these years we should meet -on the Gallipoli Peninsula, and before sitting down to talk of old -times should be looking for a scorpion that had got into his dugout. - -Scorpions and snakes about three feet long are becoming more numerous -here, but I believe they are harmless, except in self-defence. - - -_May 15th._ - -All was quiet on the front last night, but to-day there has been one -long artillery duel. - -I go up to Brigade H.Q. this afternoon, and go round by the road -through Sed-el-Bahr this time, because “I don’t like them shells; run -as you may, you can’t get away from them.” On the way I passed Ashmead -Bartlett riding with a Naval officer. The latter came and had tea with -us later, and said he was on the _Implacable_, and Ashmead Bartlett was -“bivvying” there as well. He is a correspondent for several papers. - -Several battleships which were moored at the entrance move off at -nightfall now, after that feat by the Turkish destroyer which sank the -_Goliath_. - -There is to be a general attack to-morrow night, Sunday. Some of the -Tommies do not like attacking at night; they say, “Let us get them in -the open, by day.” - -The knocking out of a sniper by some of the South Wales Borderers was -described to me to-day by one of their officers. Two officers were -standing up in their trench by a machine gun, one holding a periscope, -when a bullet went through the sleeve of his coat, wounding the officer -to whom he was talking. The first officer spotted a sniper bob down -immediately after. He then got down in the trench beside the man -working the machine gun, and pointed out to him the bush behind which -the sniper had crouched. The machine gun was laid on to it. Then the -man on the machine gun and the officer took cover, the man holding -his hand up to the machine gun ready to pop off. The officer then -cautiously raised the periscope over the trench and looked carefully -at the lower mirror. He saw in the mirror a head slowly appear above -the bush eight hundred yards away, then a rifle lifted. He said to the -machine gun man “Fire.” Pop-pop, and the sniper rolled over dead on his -side beside the bush. - - -_5.30._ - -Two Taubes have just come overhead flying at a great height. -Anti-aircraft guns are firing and there is some good shooting, but the -Taubes have turned and are going back to the Turkish lines. One of our -aeroplanes has gone up. - -A beautiful clear day, and one can see in detail the Asiatic side and -the Isle of Imbros. No heavy shells to-day so far on this beach. - -Invitations to lunch and dinner, etc., go on every day here, and it is -a regular custom for men in the firing-line to invite men from the base -(only four miles back) to a meal and vice versa. This campaign is quite -unique in many ways. - - -_May 16th._ - -Perfect day again. Saw Brigade H.Q. and hear they are moving further to -the left up in the firing-line, about half a mile beyond Pink Farm. - -Hear that our wounded, and French and Australian, have been arriving -in great numbers at Cairo and Alexandria. The British are now being -sent to Malta. Hear that 20,000 Turkish wounded have arrived at Smyrna, -and 12,000 at Constantinople. Put in divisional orders to cheer us up. -Fancy a civilized nation sending round statistics of the result of -their slaughter to cheer and exhort! Yet it cheered me. Strange how -quickly one becomes bloodthirsty and savage. - -Fighting proceeding on our right by French. No general attack being -made to-day, idea being to strengthen line, push forward steadily by -sapping, and then, when in strong position with three or four lines of -supports, to make a rush. This will probably happen in a few days now. - -Big gun has not been knocked out after all, for we had a dozen of the -best over to-day, but I was up in front and so missed it. - -Gurkhas on left have pushed forward well up to left of Krithia. Still a -few snipers behind our lines on left of Krithia. - -We had divine service this morning behind 88th Brigade lines. A service -under such circumstances is most impressive, every soul there being -within easy distance of a horrible death. It is a lovely morning, and -as the soldiers sing the hymns with lusty voices, an accompaniment is -provided by the screaming of shells overhead. But the singing continues -unabated. Here one hears the same dear old tunes of our childhood, -but under what different circumstances! At home, the breeze softly -whispering in the trees outside the ancient church, with the shaded -light glimmering through the stained glass and men and women mingling -their voices in praise to God; and then, out here, the breeze murmurs -as at home, the birds are singing and the sun is shining—but over the -congregation, the bareheaded rows of khaki figures, even while they -sing the same old hymns as of old, the Angel of Death hovers with naked -sword. Then the benediction in level tones from the Padre and the -service is ended. Surely the most impressive I have witnessed. For here -in a double sense one stands face to face with one’s Maker. - - -_May 18th._ - -Our Brigade has now moved up about three-quarters of a mile in front -of Pink Farm, and I go up this morning to find them. I ride up to, and -leave my horse at, Pink Farm, and walk the rest of the way down past -a ruined house, on over a small nullah, along the road past a battery -up to a white house called Church Farm, where I think it is about time -to halt and inquire the way. A few Tommies encamped in this house tell -me Brigade H.Q. is two hundred yards further on in the trenches, and I -walk on. I notice a Tommy walking in the same direction with a biscuit -tin on his shoulder, which he has rubbed over with mud to prevent the -sun glittering on it. I continue on in the direction indicated, and -hear a few “pings” past my head, but thinking they are the usual spent -bullets, take no notice. Suddenly something “zips” past my head, making -a row like a huge bee flying at high speed; the noise being unlike the -usual “ping” of a bullet passing harmless overhead, I conclude that I -am being deliberately fired at by a sniper, and so bend double, and -steering a zigzag course, jog-trot across the remaining fifty yards to -a nice deep trench. On arrival, I inquire where Brigade H.Q. is, and am -directed to a communication trench, which I go along and find myself at -length in a square dugout with no roof, in which are General Williams, -busy at work with a spade, Thomson, Farmer, and Reave. Concluding my -business, and being instructed that the little ruined house in front of -Pink Farm is to be the dump for rations, I say good-bye. Thomson says, -“Now, Gillam, run like a bunny,” but, those bullets being a bit free at -present over the trenches, I follow my own route back and walk along -the hindmost trench, which I am told leads to a nullah which goes back -in the direction of Pink Farm. - -I pass Worcesters and Royal Scots in the trenches, and finally the -trench dips down to a wide open space under cover, with a small brook -running its course, out of which two nullahs run. This, I am told, has -been officially named “Clapham Junction.” Unfortunately, a few shrapnel -then burst immediately over “Clapham Junction,” and I therefore go to -look for a waiting-room, refreshment-room, or booking-office in which I -can take cover until the rain has stopped. I find a “refreshment-room” -in the shape of an advanced dressing station, and two officers there -very kindly give me breakfast. After breakfast I walk along the nullah, -which I learn is now to be called Krithia Nullah, back towards the -rear, and when the sound of bullets pinging away overhead ceases, I -step out on to a newly made road, which is still under construction by -the Engineers, and then come across the Manchesters again in a newly -dug trench forming reserve lines. Walking back to Pink Farm, I mount -my mare and canter back to the beach. Last night the Turks made a raid -on the part of the line held by the Lancashire Fusiliers, endeavouring -to capture a machine gun, but very soon gave up the idea. They lost -heavily and left six prisoners behind. - -Supply depot for my Brigade alone now working smoothly. We draw rations -for the whole Division, men and horses, at six o’clock each morning by -G.S. wagons. This takes two hours, during which the rations are carted -from the Main Supply depot some three hundred yards inland from our -depots at the back of “W” Beach, and sorted out to each of the three -Brigade depots and the Divisional artillery depot. Breakfast at eight, -and at 9.30 I go to my depot again and issue the rations to my units, -meeting the Q.M.’s who have arrived with their transport. Receipts for -the rations are then given me by the Q.M.’s, who cart them away to -their own lines, where their first-line transport is encamped only a -distance of three to five hundred yards away on the other side of the -beach. At night they are taken up to the various ration dumps, and from -there taken the rest of the way to the trenches either by hand or on -pack-mules. At the forward ration dumps the work of redistribution is -carried on under a continual flight of spent and “over” bullets, and -standing there one is in constant danger of stopping one. Up to now -several casualties have been caused, but mostly slight wounds. After -five minutes one becomes quite used to the singing of the bullets, -which sound quite harmless. It is only when an extra burst of fire -breaks out that it is necessary to get into a trench or behind some -sheltering cover. I ride up in the afternoon to Brigade H.Q., who have -now dug themselves into a dry watercourse just in front of Pink Farm. I -see General Williams and Thomson. Afterwards I walk up to the trenches -where the Worcesters are, up beyond Church Farm, and across that open -space. At Church Farm I am told that at this side of the building I am -out of aiming distance from a rifle, and can only be hit by an “over,” -but that at the other side of the building I come under range, and that -it is not wise to loiter in that neighbourhood. - -I therefore get across the three hundred yards of open space as quickly -as possible, and vaulting into the safety of the trench, I inquire -where Battalion H.Q. is, and following the direction given, pass -along nice deep trenches with sand-bagged parapets. Trench warfare in -dead earnest has now begun, and for the first time I realize what it -is like: an underground world, yet not an underground, for one can -see grass, flowers, and trees growing, but only close to. Walking -from Church Farm to the trenches, I see nothing but lovely country -leading up to frowning Achi Baba, and near by, in front, rows and rows -of thrown-up earth. No sign of animal life of any kind. Yet once in -the trenches I found myself in a world alive with energy—men cleaning -rifles, writing letters, washing clothes, making dugouts, laying -cables. I pass dugouts, little rooms of earth dug out of the side of -the trench; some are cookhouses, some officers’ bedrooms, some messes, -and some orderly-rooms, with tables and chairs. All this world has -been created underground, and unseen by the enemy, only a few hundred -yards away, in the space of a few weeks; and this is trench warfare, -materialized by spade and shovel, by hundreds of strong arms, night and -day. I come at last to H.Q. Worcester Battalion, and am directed to -the mess—a nice dugout roofed in by timber. Major Lang is sitting at a -table reading letters from home. I ask for letters for Captain Bush; am -told they have been sent down to the beach by an orderly; am offered -a drink, talk about the heat, which is getting tiresome now, and hear -that soon we are to be served out with pith helmets. I say good-bye and -start back. I am in a maze, and have to be directed back to the trench -that I jumped into. I vault out and, zigzagging, jog-trot, for I am -told to go quickly back to Church Farm, and hear two bullets singing -their faint song far away over my head. I come to a nullah, where I -find horses and mules in dug-in stables in charge of Roberts, Brigade -Transport Officer, just in front of the little ruined house in front of -our Brigade H.Q., and arriving there, hear that Thomson has gone back -to Hill 138 with the Brigadier. I go back to Pink Farm, mount my mare, -and cantering along the West Krithia road, catch them up. On either -side of the road are now dug rest trenches, organized as camps—the -trenches not as deep as the front trenches, but sufficiently so to -keep the men under cover. I trot along the road through one of these -camps, and am soon pulled up by an M.P. with the sharp order, “No -trotting, please.” - -[Illustration: 29TH DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS, GULLY BEACH, AT THE FOOT -OF THE GULLY, HELLES.] - -[Illustration: VIEW OF “V” BEACH, CAPE HELLES, TAKEN FROM THE _RIVER -CLYDE_. - -Sed-el-Bahr is to the immediate right of the beach, not in the -photograph.] - -I ride with Thomson to “V” Beach and the _River Clyde_ comes in sight, -seen from the high ground near the lighthouse, which was the Turkish -position on April 25th. I hear from him the events of that awful day. -How, when the General and Costaker were hit, he was ordered to go back -to the _Clyde_ and to take Reave. How he was on one end of the hopper, -lying down, and Reave the other, and had to attract his attention and -call to him to follow. Then they had to get back over dead bodies -and the wounded under a hail of bullets, which zipped overhead or -crashed against the hopper and sides of the _Clyde_ with a loud -bang. He described the scenes on board the _Clyde_, and the cries of -wounded; the arrival of messages on steam pinnaces, signallers at work -semaphoring to battleships and transports. And there lay the _River -Clyde_, now a haven of rest, with a solid pier built out from shore and -alongside it, using its hulk as a harbour. “V” Beach, now a model of -an orderly advanced base, under the organizing talent of the French, -looked a different place to the “V” Beach that I saw last. We search -for Costaker’s grave without success. Two huge graves are on the right -of the beach looking seawards—the graves of those soldiers and sailors -whose bodies I saw laid out for burial on April 27th, wired round, and -with fine crosses erected on each. I ride back with him through the -village, past the camp of the amusing Senegalese, and along the new -road that leads to “Clapham Junction.” On either side rest camps have -developed, composed of lines of trenches and dugouts, sheltered in -trees and bushes. - -I see several batteries of “75’s,” and one is in action. - -Down a slope through trees, and over little nullahs covered with -growing gorse-bush, over meadowland past the site of our old Brigade -H.Q., till when within sight of our new H.Q. we come into uninterrupted -view of Achi Baba, and Thomson then says we had better trot. On -arrival, tea is ready, and a new cake has arrived. It had taken -three weeks to come out, and yet tasted quite fresh. We have tea -in the open, at the bottom of the dry brook, and afterwards I take -my departure. On return to “W” Beach, over comes a big shell, and -immediately all work is stopped, and one and all, General and private, -make for cover. Drivers rush to their lines and untie their mules and -horses, and trot, canter, and gallop to the safety of the shore at -the foot of the cliffs right and left of the beach. We wait beneath -the friendly, sheltering cliffs, and hear the swishing shrieks as -the shells hurtle through the air, bursting on the beach and on the -higher ground. Then, as one shriek does not end with the crash of an -explosion and its noise continues, we look at each other with a certain -amount of apprehension, until with a fearful rending it sweeps down on -to us, helplessly taking cover on the steep sides of the cliff, and -crashes with a deafening roar almost at our feet, as it seems, but -really fifty yards away. Immediately there is a rush to more sheltered -ground half-way up the cliff, and three forms are seen lying helplessly -in the road. One is my staff-sergeant, with a scalp wound and badly -shaken, and two are dead, mangled beyond description. Thank the Lord, -my staff’s wound is not serious. Well, he is for Blighty now, and good -luck to him! - -We find the animals—mules and horses—have been strafed rather badly. -The lines that they are on are in very exposed positions as far as -shell fire is concerned, and it was not possible to get many away, and -in consequence the casualties among the poor helpless creatures were -serious. Hyslop, our Vet., dispatched all that he could on their last -journey with one pull on his revolver, pressed to their foreheads. As -a pause came in the shelling, so he rushed out from his dugout and -finished off those which were wounded beyond cure, going about the -horrid task coolly and methodically, at intervals, being forced to rush -for cover to save his own skin, but ever ready, when chance offered, to -go back to his merciful task. Though we have been on this Peninsula but -a few weeks, the Veterinary Services are efficient beyond praise, and -the cases of all animal patients, suffering from the smallest ailments -to the most serious of wounds, are dealt with by the Veterinary -Officers with the same care as the Medical Corps bestows on human -patients. - -Looking back on the episodes that occur when the beach is subjected to -shell fire, with the fear of getting hit oneself removed temporarily, -the humour of them enters into our thoughts and conversation. What -So-and-so looked like when he slid down the cliffs. “Did you see -Colonel —— dive behind those boxes, or the R.E. General competing in -a fifty yards’ sprint with his batman?” If it were possible to record -on a cinema film these scenes that are instantaneously caused by the -arrival of big shells, without recording the bursting of a shell or the -occurrence of casualties, then a film could be produced which would -rival in knockabout comedy any film of Charlie Chaplin’s. The French -have been fighting this afternoon, and the “75’s” banging away for -all they are worth. A very big battle has been going on on the right. -Perhaps this is why we have been given a taste of shelling. - - -_May 19th._ - -I hear that General D’Amade has gone home, which we all regret. He was -very gallant and brave, and was continually with his troops in the -trenches. Big gun not very active to-day, thank Heaven. A couple came -over, however, while Gregory and I were walking down to the beach. We -both dived flat on the ground behind an S.A. ammunition-box—really no -protection at all, but any cover is better than none. I got behind -Gregory when we fell flat, as his “tummy,” being nice and large, made -extra cover for me. I admit I considered only myself at the moment and -not Gregory, and the temptation of taking shelter behind his massive -form was one that on the instant I could not resist. I told him this, -and he got very annoyed with me. - -“W” Beach has now been officially named Lancashire Landing, after the -Lancashire Fusiliers, who took the beach on the 25th of last month. - -The Gurkhas in their last scrap of a few days ago took an important -bluff on the left of Krithia, overlooking the sea, and this bluff has -now been called Gurkha Bluff. - -Just heard that one of our submarines has been up the Sea of Marmora. -Not coming back for twenty-one days, it was given up for lost, but -reported back safe and sound to-day, having sunk two Turkish destroyers -and three Turkish transports. Commander awarded the V.C. - -Aeroplanes very active now; tried to get a flight to-day, but failed. -They go back to Tenedos each night, and come sailing over the sea back -here after breakfast. It is too dangerous for the machines to remain on -at the aerodrome here, on account of shell fire. - - -_May 20th._ - -Brilliant weather once more. It gets frightfully hot now in the middle -of the day. After lunch, had a delightful bathe, and then went to -Brigade H.Q. in centre of position. All quiet there, but French made -ground to-day on right. French now doing excellent work. At Gaba Tepe, -Australians heavily attacked last night by Turks in great force, -supported by artillery, including 92 gun. Attack under personal command -of Von Sanders. Australians hold their own, the enemy losing heavily, -leaving heaps of dead on the field. They come on in the German massed -formation, yelling “Allah!” and are literally mown down. I prophesy -that Dardanelles will be open by June 30th, if not before. - -Hear that they now have a Coalition Government at home. - -We now have issued to us regularly in print one sheet containing -“wireless news” and local news. The sheet is called the _Peninsula -Press_. At times it endeavours to become amusing at the expense of the -Turk, but it falls rather flat. - - -_May 23rd._ - -This afternoon I walk over with Jennings, Phillips, Williams, and Way -to find Major Costaker’s grave, as there is some doubt as to where he -has been buried. We had difficulty in passing through Sed-el-Bahr, as -the French are very strict about others than French passing through, -but an Australian military policeman came to our rescue and passed -us through. The French have the advantage in having Sed-el-Bahr, for -amongst the ruined houses are several untouched by shell fire, in -which they are enabled to make very comfortable quarters. But the best -quarters of all are in the large fort which looks over the Straits. -The other fort that I have referred to stands back from the beach, -on the right-hand side looking seawards. We have our photographs -taken, sitting on the muzzle of one of the big Turkish guns at this -latter fort; also, to the huge delight of the Senegalese, we take some -photographs of their camp, and one of them insists on my being in the -group. We meet with no success in finding Major Costaker’s grave, and -I can only conclude that he is buried in one of the two large graves -down on the beach marked “Gallant dead of the Dublins and Munsters and -others.” - -On the way back we sit for a while in front of Hill 138 and have a -long look at the beautiful country lying between us and Achi Baba. -Through glasses we notice some precipitous slopes in front of Achi -Baba, and wonder how long the day will be before our troops will be -storming them. Not a sign of the enemy can be seen: just now and then -little white puffs of shrapnel, now from our guns over their lines, and -now from theirs over ours. Now and again the French “75’s” bark out, -bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang—bang-bang. About as rapid as a machine -gun. The F.O.O. (Forward Observation Officer) watches the enemy as a -cat does a mouse. Any sign of life in an enemy trench, such as the -sight of shovels appearing over the parapet and earth being thrown -up, a body of Turks moving across the open behind their lines, or a -new communication trench that appears in course of construction, is -immediately telephoned to the battery commander at the guns, and before -it is possible to count sixty seconds, half a dozen shells burst near -or on the target. No target appears too small or too insignificant for -them, and ammunition is plentiful. A great pile of shells in boxes is -tidily stacked against the walls of Sed-el-Bahr fort, and the stack -steadily grows. We are not in the same fortunate position with our -ammunition. - -On April 27th, when I was at “V” Beach, I saw a “75” battery being -hauled up from the shore. I was standing amongst some French soldiers, -and one standing next to me turned to me and pointed to the guns, -saying “Soixante-quinze, bon—eh?” He looked upon them with pleasure -and almost awe. Then I did not appreciate their immense worth, but -now I do. We strolled back in the evening, had a peaceful dinner, -and at night, but for fitful bursts of rifle fire, all was quiet. -Mowatt, my friend of Birmingham days, looks in to have a chat, but his -conversation is rather depressing to us all. - -If his theories are right, then we are stuck here in front of Achi till -the end of the war—or driven into the sea. A listener to one of his -arguments puts forward the theory that if we had effected a landing at -the Bulair Lines, the Peninsula, being cut off from Turkey in Europe, -would automatically have fallen into our hands; but that theory is -immediately exploded by the knowledge of the fact that at present -Chanak, on the Asiatic side, is the main source of supply, via Maidos -on the Peninsula separated as they are from each other by under a mile -of the water of the Straits, easily crossed by regular ferries. From -Chanak we believe that the enemy receives nearly all his ammunition, -stores, supplies, and reinforcements, which are ferried to Maidos and -transported from there by pack-mules to their army on the Hill. We have -seen convoys of pack-mules now and again on the slopes of Achi Baba, -but they seldom show themselves, for fear of the heavy shells from the -guns of the Fleet. But they must swarm over each night. - -Mowatt says that if an army of ours landed at the Lines of Bulair, -it would be flanked on either side by Turkish armies, one on the -Peninsula and one on the mainland. Both these armies would be kept -in the field by plentiful and safe sources of supply, and our army -would quickly find itself in an ever-tightening vice, rendering it -in a short time impotent. He argues that once it had been decided -to land on the Peninsula we landed at the right place, but that the -success of taking the hill might have fallen to our armies if the -Australians had landed where the 29th landed, namely at Helles, on -the tip of the Peninsula, and if the 29th had landed up the coast -behind Achi, where the Australians had landed. The 29th, being a more -tried and disciplined machine, would have conquered its way to Maidos, -forming a line of steel behind the small Turkish Army (we are told its -strength was about 30,000 men on April 25th), and this Turkish Army, -being cut off in rear, would have fallen a victim to the oncoming -gallant and all-conquering Australians and New Zealanders. The fall -of Constantinople would not have been far off, the Straits would have -been opened to the Allied Fleets. Another theory is that a landing -could then have been effected at Alexandretta, north of Syria, and a -march from there could have been made by a strong and overwhelming army -of French and British to the gates of Bagdad, and that after the fall -of Bagdad we should have been able to link up with the Russian Army. -Then there would follow a sweep through Asia Minor to the coast of the -Marmora and shores of the Dardanelles, the Fleet would dash up the -Narrows to the Golden Horn, and, as the Arabs say, “Turkey mafisch.” - -Mowatt appears to have studied the question logically, but it is the -Staff’s job to think these things out and ours to do our job in our -humble way. - -However, he depresses us, and I shall have to go and have a chat to -those Naval optimists again. - -Sed-el-Bahr is a mass of ruins now, but, however ruined a village may -be, one can always picture to a certain extent what it was like in its -lifetime. Sed-el-Bahr must have been a very charming place before the -bombardment, with its ancient fifteenth-century houses, orchards, and -gardens. The fort, evidently fifteenth or sixteenth century, is a very -picturesque and massive building, having spacious chambers with the -roofs going up in a dome shape—more egg shape though, than dome—made -of solid masonry, four or five feet thick. The walls also are just as -thick, but the guns of the _Queen Elizabeth_ simply smashed through -them like butter. - -It is wonderful how the country in our possession to date has changed. -Roads are being made everywhere. Pipes lead from wells to troughs. -Piers run out from beaches. Sides of cliffs have little dugouts and -little houses and terraces, with names given them, such as “Sea View” -and “Lancaster Terrace,” such names being officially recognized. Also -camps and horse lines are everywhere. Big gun has been shelling “V” -Beach to-day; “Y” Beach is now known as Gurkha Beach. - - -_May 24th._ - -Perfect day after ten; very heavy rain earlier. My job to draw supplies -from Main Supply depot for Division. Rotten job, which starts at six. -Brigade not moved. - -Hear that Italy has definitely come in. This closes a channel of -supplies into Austria and Germany, and is bound to tell in a few months. - -Japanese bomb shells experimented with in Australian trenches at Gaba -Tepe. They are fired by a trench mortar and have a range of four -hundred yards. They have a small propeller to keep them straight, and -explode with great violence, blowing trench to bits. - -The first one tried fell beautifully in a Turkish trench at two hundred -yards’ range, and exploded with great violence. Turks started kicking -up a fearful row, and about fifty rushed out like a lot of hornets. -Machine gun turned on them and scotched the lot. Great request now on -our part for Japanese bomb shells. - -News now arrives that two submarines from Germany have got into the -Mediterranean through the Straits of Gibraltar, and that they are -making for this part of the world as hard as they can go. Most of -the Fleet and transports in consequence move off at nightfall for -Lemnos Harbour, off the village of Mudros, where our transports -concentrated before the landing. Looking out to sea from the beach, -the feeling of loneliness engendered by the departure of the shipping -is curious—yesterday I looked seawards and the ocean was dotted with -warships, transports, etc., pinnaces darted to and fro, all was hurry -and bustle, during which one had a comfortable feeling that at our -backs were our Naval comrades, ready to help at a moment’s notice; now, -less than half the shipping lies off the coast than did a week ago, and -a feeling of loneliness, almost of fear, comes over me. - -Hindu as well as Sudanese labourers now working on the beach. All the -time that they are carrying anything on a cart, with six pushing, -one of them, evidently in authority, walks alongside laughing and -gesticulating, singing something in a Gregorian chant, to which the -others answer by singing three words in a monotone. This goes on all -the time and causes much amusement to the Tommies, who of course -imitate, whereupon the coolies laugh and sing all the louder. - -We have now built a bivouac of boxes on the cliff edge, the right side -of the beach looking towards the sea, and from there we obtain a fine -view of the scenes on the beach and the road below at the foot of the -cliff, which is gradually being widened, built up, and extended round -to “X” Beach. - - -_May 25th._ - -Woke up in our new “bivvy” this morning. It is very nice up here now, -overlooking Imbros. From my bed I see the _Swiftsure_ fire a shot into -the water. I get up at once, and looking through my glasses, see her -fire another, this time between the _Agamemnon_, which is moored close -by, and herself. Torpedo destroyer comes dashing up, and immediately -makes big circles round the two ships. A tiny little pinnace slips -out with only four sailors on it, and rushes round and round the -_Swiftsure_ like a little pup defending its mother. A bugle sounds -several times, and men in white swarm out from all kinds of places and -stand to stations on the decks. - -A submarine has been sighted right among our shipping; it had darted -like an evil fish between the _Swiftsure_ and the _Agamemnon_, and the -_Swiftsure_ had kept it off. - -At one o’clock news arrives that H.M.S. _Triumph_ has been torpedoed -off the Australian landing at Gabe Tepe, and it is a terrible shock to -us all, coming as it has so soon after the sinking of the _Goliath_. -A good many lives were saved—nearly all the crew. No doubt it was hit -by the same submarine that attempted to finish off the _Swiftsure_ -and _Agamemnon_ this morning. We are all naturally anxious at further -developments. - -A Turkish battery is shelling the aerodrome on the east side of “W” -Beach. Some very good practice is made and one machine is damaged. - -This afternoon the same thing starts, and one shell pitches into the -sea. If they move their gun five degrees right, they have the range of -our “bivvy” nicely. - - -_May 26th._ - -It is another perfect day, and it is absolutely ideal at our “bivvy” on -the cliffs overlooking the south-west tip of the Peninsula. The sea is -perfect, yet while admiring the view we hear the old familiar whistle -of a shell, and one comes right over us, “plonk” into the sea. Another -soon follows, and we have to go beneath the cliffs, and our aspect of -the peaceful view is immediately changed. Shelling lasts half an hour, -and after lunch we can come back. - -Go up to Brigade H.Q. this morning, and find that South Lancashire -Division have been merged with the 29th Division. Laird, quite fit and -chirpy as usual, in a topping little dugout near by. Reinforcements -arrive to-day, and I show them the way up. One chap asks if there is a -chance of his getting into the firing-line. I answer that he will be in -the firing-line in half an hour, and, poor chap! he looks queerly at -me. He will get used to it, though, in a day. He asked the question as -if to show that he was longing, after months of training and waiting, -to get there, but had rather a shock when he found it was so near. - -Flies, ordinary houseflies, are beginning to be awful pests here, -simply myriads of them. People in England do not know what a fly pest -is. They make a continual hum as they fly round, there are so many of -them. One of our officers named Jennings gets very annoyed with them, -and when trying to get a sleep in his dugout of an afternoon, has a -few minutes’ indulgence in Hate, not against Germany, but against the -flies, murmuring to himself “Gott strafe the flies!” over and over -again. - -Ritchie, my old H.A.C. pal of the Goring days, who was on the -_Arcadian_, turns up at Supply depot and invites me to dinner in the -near future. It does not seem so very long ago that we were having a -pigeon-pie dinner in our barn at Stoke-on-Thames, when we were both -gunners in the H.A.C. - -Late in the afternoon shells come whistling over our bivouac once -more, well overhead, and burst in the sea near to Supply ships. About -fifteen come over, and the transports weigh anchor and clear out of -the way, taking up moorings again behind the _Majestic_, which is -lying about a thousand yards off the centre of “W” Beach. Evidently -the Turks are being “spotted” for at Yen-i-Shehr, where no doubt they -have many observation posts which are in telephonic communication -with Chanak, further up the Straits, which in turn is in telephonic -communication with Turkish H.Q. on Achi. What more ideal conditions -for laying their guns could be wished for? It is fortunate for us that -their artillery and ammunition are scarce. Were the full complement of -artillery against us that the Germans would provide to an army of the -same strength as that of the Turks, I think that we should, as things -have developed now, pack up and be off within one week, and not even -the dear little “75’s” could save us. - -The field bakery is in working order now, in a little gully further up -the coast, and we are having most excellent bread each day—not a full -ration, about 40 per cent. being made up by the biscuits. - -It consists of three Bakery Detachments of six Bakery Sections each, a -total of twenty-four ovens, and is capable of making bread for sixty -thousand men. The ovens are made of curved metal; the troughs are in -a large marquee, where all the mixing of the flour and ferments is -done. The bread supplied on the whole is good, but of course, under -the conditions in which the men are working it is difficult to turn -out bread of the quality that one expects in London. Baking goes on -practically the whole of the twenty-four hours. The whole bakery is -under cover, and cannot be seen in any way by the Turk, though the -gully in which it has been placed can be shelled, should the Turk -become aware of its presence. - -I dine with Ritchie at 7.30 p.m. in his dugout under our cliff, between -our position and the bakery. Five other officers are there; amongst -them is Major Huskisson a charming “Gypy” Army A.S.C. man, who is in -charge of the Main Supply depot here, and also a man who was in the -_River Clyde_ at the landing and who saw Colonel Carrington-Smith -killed. Ritchie is O.C. a Labour Corps, camped on the side of the cliff -around his dugout. We play bridge after dinner, and I actually have -a whisky. First game of bridge I have had since we landed, and it is -weird playing in such surroundings. Outside, a perfect moonlight night. - -Elsewhere I have mentioned the Isle of Imbros by night. But really it -is next to impossible to describe the beauty of these Greek islands, -unless one is a poet or a painter. To my mind, Imbros is the most -beautiful of any of the isles in reach of the Peninsula. But to-night, -as it seemed, she surpassed herself in beauty. The sea lies like a -sheet of liquid silver under the rays of the moon. There, like a -precious gem, lies Imbros, sleeping on the face of the waters; her deep -valleys and gorges, running down to the sea, are aswim with purple -shadows, and her rugged mountain crests stand out violet and clear-cut -against the star-spangled velvet of the skies. Her feet are wrapt about -as with a snowy drapery, woven of the little foaming crests of lazy -wavelets lapping around her. From behind her the feathery night clouds -appear to swathe themselves about her, and her mountain peaks seem -like a coronet set upon the dusky brow of some beautiful goddess of -the night. All is silent, and she sleeps peacefully upon the waters, -awaiting the coming of the fiery god of the morning, who, dashing -across the sky in his chariot of flame, will awaken her with a burning -kiss—driving the purple shadows from her valleys and filling them with -a swimming golden glory which shall make her seem even more lovely by -day than by night. Truly is she a goddess upon the waters, a rival -almost of Aphrodite herself. - -As I go back to bed, walking back along the foot of the cliff, rifle -fire is rattling away on our left. I climb up to our “bivvy,” being -challenged several times, and turn into bed. - - -_May 27th._ - -Woke at 6.30 this morning, feeling very refreshed, and find it is a -beautiful morning. The view is perfect from our biscuit-box “bivvy.” - -I am just drowsily thinking about getting up, when a gun from H.M.S. -_Majestic_ fires. This is followed immediately by the report of an -explosion, and Carver says, “Good Lord, she is torpedoed!” We rush -out, and see the green smooth wake of a torpedo in a straight line -horizontal with our “bivvy,” starting from a point immediately in front -of us. H.M.S. _Majestic_ is about eight hundred yards to our left, -immediately in front of “W” Beach, and I see her, massive and strong, -bristling with guns, and crowded with men in white, slowly tilting over -with a list to her port side. Men are doubling on deck to their places -in perfect order, with no shouting or panic. Then, evidently, the order -“Every man for himself!” is given, for I see a figure leap into the -water, making a big splash; then another and another—it is like jumping -off the side of a house—until the sea around is dotted by bobbing -heads of men swimming. Slowly she tilts over, and men clamber on to -the side above the torpedo nets, which are out. As many as possible -get away from the nets, for they make a trap. By this time, after only -four minutes, she is surrounded by destroyers, trawlers, pinnaces, and -small boats, and with perfectly wonderful and amazing efficiency they -systematically pick up the struggling figures in the water. - -One after the other men continue to leap, while the big ship lists; -yet there are some, amongst whom are several officers, who stand on -the side calmly waiting, and some still on the platform above the -torpedo-nets. My glasses are glued on these men. I see them plainly in -every detail, and almost the expression on their faces, as they stand -on this platform with their hands behind them, holding on to the side -of the ship. I see an officer in the centre looking anxiously to the -right and the left, shouting directions. A man at the end manages to -clamber to his left and slides painfully over pipe-stays and the usual -fittings on the side of a battleship, falling with an awkward thud in -the water, and another and another follow him. Then, after six minutes -she begins to list quicker and quicker, and the remaining men on the -torpedo-net platform still hang on. The nets curl up into themselves. -These men are now horizontal to the ship, for she is now well on her -side. The nets fling themselves into the air with a horrid curl, and -disappear from view with these brave officers and men underneath. Can -they dive and get free? The emerald green of the keel-plates appears, -and in two minutes she turns turtle, her bows remaining highest and her -stern beneath water. As she turns, men run, slip, and slide into the -water, and at the finish, eight minutes after, her bows are showing and -about fifty feet of the bottom of the ship above water at an angle. - -Finally, one man is left on the green, slippery keel, and he, evidently -not being able to swim, calmly takes his jacket off, sits down, and, -if you please, takes off his boots, and walking slowly into the water, -plunges in, having the good fortune to grab a lifebuoy, and is hauled -to a tug. - -The submarine has been spotted, and torpedo destroyers give chase, -circling round and round, but all signs of her have disappeared. The -destroyers, six in all, make bigger and bigger sweeps, when the sound -of firing is heard out at sea, and about four miles to the east of -Imbros I can see a big French battleship going hell for leather towards -the island. She is firing astern, and immediately all six destroyers -put out to sea as fast as they can steam; the French ship then fires -an extra big shell astern, which explodes with great violence in the -water; the destroyers coming up, she gives up firing and makes off to -safety. Later: No news as yet of the submarine, and we await with a -little anxiety further developments. - -The survivors coming ashore were looked after by the Tommies, given -new clothes, breakfast, and rum, and seemed none the worse for their -adventure. One said, “This is the third —— time I have been sunk, -and I’m getting a bit fed-up.” One quickly becomes a philosopher and -fatalist on this Peninsula, and the fact that we are all a tonic to -each other keeps our spirits up. - -I hear that most of the crew are saved, including the Admiral and -the Captain. About forty have lost their lives, and I feel sure -amongst this number are those unfortunate brave men who stood calmly -waiting for almost certain and immediate death, or the bare chance of -continuing to live longer, on that trap of a torpedo-net platform. - -I stroll down on the beach and talk to Naval officers about the loss, -but they appear as optimistic as ever—tell me she was an old boat, of -not much value nowadays, built as long ago as 1894, and that when once -Achi Baba is taken the Fleet will get to work and make a dash up the -Straits. - -The scene is just the same this beautiful evening, but instead of a -dignified, strong battleship in our midst, there remains her green -bows, like the head of an enormous whale, peeping out of the water. - - -_7 a.m._ - -Taube flies over, drops bomb; two men killed. - - -_May 28th._ - -Go up to Brigade H.Q. this morning. Delightful canter along West -Krithia road. I pass many camps, or rather lines of trenches on either -side of the road serving as camps. Just at this time of the year -crickets are very numerous. It is difficult to spot them, but they make -a sound with their chirping not unlike the concerted song of a host -of sparrows. I notice it more particularly at Pink Farm in the early -morning, and sometimes at night on the cliffs by the sea. I find that -Brigade H.Q. have moved forward a little to the left, and have dug -nice quarters into the side of a small hill. They were flooded out of -their previous Headquarters by a cloud burst—a curious phenomenon. We -did not feel it at all on the beaches, and yet a few miles inland they -experienced a veritable flood. - - -_5 p.m._ - -I ride to Morto Bay across country through the white pillars, and have -a ripping bathe. It is a beautiful spot, just up the Straits, three -miles from the shores of Asia, flanked on its left by high ground, on -which is De Tott’s Battery, and on its right by the high wooded ground -behind Sed-el-Bahr. Perfect bathing, all sand, and gently sloping until -one wades out of one’s depth. Plenty of French troops bathing as well. -All this side of the Peninsula is in the hands of the French. As we -are bathing, one shell comes over from Achi and bursts near the white -pillars. - - -_7 p.m._ - -Arriving back at “W” Beach, I can see about half a dozen destroyers -bombarding a few villages on Imbros for all they are worth. Lord! are -we at war with Greece now? - - -_May 29th._ - -A beautiful day, but there are no battleships lying off, and but one or -two Supply ships. The absence of shipping makes a great contrast to the -busy scenes amongst the Fleet and transports of a week ago, and their -absence has a depressing effect on us all. - -Several destroyers are patrolling up and down the coast, and from Asia -to Imbros. All is quiet on the front. But reinforcements steadily -arrive, and a continued steady stream of ordnance stores and supplies -is unloaded from the Supply ships into lighters, which are then towed -by small tugs to the piers, alongside which they are made fast. There -the stores are taken over by R.E., Ordnance, or Supply Officers, who -with groups of labourers unload them from the lighters on to the piers. -Greek labour then handles the stores along the piers to the beach, -where they are dumped on the sand. Then officers with clerks check -the stores with the figures stated on their vouchers, and Greeks load -on to wagons and mule-carts, which then drive off up the newly made -steep roads of the beach to the R.E. park, just half-way up the beach, -to the Ordnance depot on the cliff to the right of the beach looking -inland, or to the rapidly growing Main Supply depot, which will soon -make a splendid target for the Turkish gunners, on the high ground -at the back of the beach. At times we find that the Main Supply depot -is unable to satisfy all our indents, and in consequence we have to -go down on to the beach and draw from the piles of supplies which -have accumulated there faster than it has been found possible to cart -them away. But never on any occasion do we find that our indents have -to be refused from both the Main Supply depot and the beach. For the -A.S.C. out here, where there are difficulties that have never been -experienced before in previous campaigns—such as transporting by sea -from Southampton or Alexandria, over a sea rapidly becoming infested -with submarines; unloading into lighters off shore in a rough sea, with -the lighters bumping and tossing roughly against the ships’ sides; -towing the lighters alongside flimsy piers, always under a constant -work of construction or repair; and finally the arduous work of -man-handling from the lighters to the beach, carting from the beach to -the Main depot and thence to trenches, guns, and camps, with a daily -ration of Turkish shells to dodge—are organizing the feeding of the men -in the trenches, the man at the gun, and we behind, punctiliously as -our troops are fed in France. Whatever unforeseen difficulty arises, -breakfast and the succeeding daily meals are always ready at the -scheduled hours for General and private, officers’ chargers and mules. -One hitch, and our Army here may have to go on half rations or no food -at all. - -“An army moves on its stomach.” True, we are not moving; but if our -stomachs are not regularly and wisely fed, we shall rapidly have to -move, and then in the opposite way to our objective. - -The A.S.C. officer who was at dinner at Ritchie’s the other night is -with me on the beach, and, as I walk with him to the Main Supply depot, -he contrasts the circumstances here with those in France under which -the A.S.C works. Pointing to the pier and the stacks of supplies on -the beach, he says, “There you have your Havre and base.” The wagons, -limbers, and mule-carts are, he tells me, the equivalent of the -railway Supply pack-trains running every day from Havre to the various -railheads behind the lines. We arrive at the Main Supply depot, and -he says: “We are now at one of these railheads, but hardly ever does -a railhead in France get shelled, and never one of them regularly and -continually, as this one will be when these stacks of biscuits grow a -bit higher.” Pointing to our Divisional depot of four little dumps, -one for each of our groups, just three hundred yards away from us, -he says: “There is your refilling point, usually two miles or more -from railhead, and then seldom under shell fire.” In our case we are -actually behind railhead. An officer on duty at the Main Supply depot -who has been up to Anzac, as the landing of the Australians up the -coast is now called, joins in our conversation, and tells us that -actually on the beach at Anzac spent bullets continually fly over from -the enemy trenches, adding, “Fancy spent bullets flying round the depot -at Havre!” - -I ride up to Brigade H.Q. in the afternoon and have tea, and am called -on to supply them with the latest beach rumours, which I glean each -morning from our dump and from our Naval officers on shore. - -Coming back, just in front of Pink Farm I stop at the mess of the -Royal Scots, who are in a trench camp. Their mess is very well dug in, -and I am surprised how comfortable it has been made. They are very -hospitable, and have an overflowing larder of unheard-of luxuries -in this land of bare necessity. Old Steel, the Q.M., is there, and -presses “Turkish delight” on to me. As we sit talking, shrapnel whizzes -over and bursts behind us fifty yards to our left, trying to get “L” -Battery. I hear the account of the part the Royal Scots had taken -in the last little scrap, and am told that one of their sergeants, -who was a man of good position in Edinburgh in civil life, was found -dead, lying with a semicircle of five dead Turks around him, their -heads smashed in with the butt-end of his rifle. He must have come of -a fighting stock, yet never anticipated he would end his life on the -battlefield. - - -_May 30th._ - -I am on duty at 6 a.m. at the Main Supply depot drawing the day’s -supplies to our Divisional dump. Each of the four Supply Officers -takes it in turn, so that the duty falls to me once in four days. It is -a lovely fresh morning, and after signing for the supplies I light a -cigarette and stroll back to my “bivvy” feeling ready for breakfast. - -I meet Milward on the way, who now lives in a tent near the depot. He -was our Naval Landing Officer on the _Dongola_ on April 25th, and is -now one of the Naval Landing Officers on the beach. He tells me that -he is about to go back to join his original ship, somewhere in the -North Sea; that he does not want to go a bit, and this side of the war -is far more interesting. He also says that the piers are going to be -constructed so as to be proof against the bad weather that will come -in the winter. Ships will be sunk to form breakwaters. “The winter?” I -exclaim. “Heavens! we shall be in Constantinople long before then; Achi -will be ours by June 30th, and then we have them at our mercy.” - -Milward says that it is wise, however, to be ready for a winter. -Winter? Lord! what a long time ahead it seems! - -This afternoon I ride with Carver, Woodbridge, Foley, and Tull, with -orderlies, to Morto Bay, and on the way have a delightful cross-country -canter. I have difficulty, though, in making my mare jump trenches. She -jumped hurdles at Warwick race-course like a bird. Had a delightful -bathe while the French Senegalese were doing likewise. Absolutely -coal-black figures, laughing and playing like children. No firing from -Asiatic side; their guns evidently silenced by us. Only three miles -across; most beautiful view, with mountains and plains of Troy in the -background. This place will make a fine watering-place after the war -for some enterprising capitalist. - -In the background beautiful wooded country, with the stately white -pillars standing up, the whole place this side of the pillars a large -French camp. I like the French. They are charming. What a difference -this place is now to what it was in those first few days, when we had -to toil up at night through the Turkish cemetery, past the croaking -frogs, with fears of snipers. - - -_May 31st._ - -A perfect day. I ride up with Foley to my Brigade in the morning, and -there meet Captain Wood, the Adjutant of the Essex, and dear old Ruby -Revel, of the same regiment. The messroom at Brigade H.Q., though -dug in the side of a small hill, is like a country summer-house, and -this morning it is very hard to realize that we are at war. Crickets -are chirping in the bushes, and pretty little chaffinches with -bright-coloured feathers hop about amongst the trees. - -I look through a powerful telescope at the Turkish trenches, and it -seems almost as though I could throw a stone at them. The precipitous -slopes of Achi Baba appear in vivid detail. As for the Turkish first -line, I feel that if I put my foot out I shall tread on its parapet. -Yet I see not a sign of life. And all is perfectly quiet. I think that -a big attack is coming off in a few days now, and great preparations -appear to be going on. Many reinforcements have arrived, and we are -almost up to full strength again. In fact, several of those who were -slightly wounded on the first day have actually returned fit and sound -to the firing-line. - -Riding back, Foley and I call at his Brigade H.Q. and see Major Lucas, -the Brigade Major, and later Brigadier-General Marshall comes in. -Their H.Q., situated some three hundred yards behind Pink Farm, but to -the right, looking towards Achi, is built in an even more beautiful -spot than the H.Q. of the 88th. In fact, it can only be described as -a most beautiful natural garden, and the quarters are composed simply -of summer-houses nestling under trees, with flowers and meadow grass -growing in beautiful confusion all around. Bullets just fall short of -this spot, and shells do not drop near, for it is away from any target. - -I call at the R.N.D. armoured car camp afterwards, just half-way back -between Pink Farm and the beach, off the West Krithia road, to look -up a friend that I hear is with them, but learn that he has not yet -landed. Four armoured cars are dug in to what look like deep horse -stalls of earth—beautiful Rolls-Royce cars, and I hear that they are -to go into action in the battle which is thought to be coming off in a -few days. - - -_2 p.m._ - -This afternoon it is so hot that I strip to the waist and write on -the cliff. A few transports are in. Mine-sweepers in pairs, with -little sails aft, are on duty at the entrance, cruising slowly and -methodically to and fro, joined to each other by a sunken torpedo-net; -and woe unto a submarine that should run into that net! It will quickly -meet with an untimely end; its base will hear no more news of it, -and its destruction will be kept secret by the Navy. Destroyers are -on patrol right out to sea. One battleship can just be seen far away -towards Lemnos. Work on the beach goes on steadily. Engineers are hard -at work constructing a new pier, which will serve as a breakwater as -well. Stones for this purpose are being quarried from the side of the -cliff. A light railway is in course of construction round the beach and -along the road at the foot of this cliff and up to the depot. - - - - - JUNE - - -_June 1st, 11.30._ - -Rode to H.Q., leaving my mare at Pink Farm, where I met General Doran, -our new Brigadier, with whom I walked to H.Q. Coming back along West -Krithia road, met Mathias, Brigade Vet. Two shells whistle over us. -Mathias says, “Here comes a shell,” to which I reply, “It’s come and -gone, dear boy,” as they burst “plonk” in the middle of the road that -we have to pass along. We make a detour and ride back over country. - -Four officers, just come from England, arrive and have lunch with us. - - -_3 p.m._ - -Ride with Foley to Morto Bay for a bathe. Bay full of French and -Senegalese bathing. As we sat undressing, one big, burly fellow came -up to Foley and said, “Speak English, how do you do?” and held out his -hands. Foley was so taken aback that he shook hands. He then turned to -me, and showing his teeth, said, “Tobacco.” Being rather afraid that -he was going to bite me, I quickly took out my pouch and gave him a -handful. Then a sergeant, also a nigger, came running up, and ordered -him off, using most fearful language apparently, and away he went, -running like mad. They are fine-looking men. Morto Bay looking very -beautiful. I can imagine this a fine watering-place, after the war, -with promenade, gardens, hotels, golf-links, etc. - -Achi Baba looked a beautiful bronze colour, with patches of green. The -Dardanelles show a deep blue colour, gradually blending into the purple -of the Asiatic side, with its background of mountains. At the entrance, -little mine-sweepers are on duty. The beach is full of naked black and -white figures bathing, and the country in the background is dotted with -French camps. The firing-line in the distance, and our guns popping off -at intervals, and enemy shells now and again whistling overhead—such is -the environment in which we have our bathe. - -Foley suggests riding back through Sed-el-Bahr, which we do, and we -were fortunate in doing so, as eight shells, beautifully placed, -exploded just over the road that we otherwise should have taken, and at -about the time that we should have been passing along it. - - -_10.30 p.m._ - -Bit of the Turkish attack going on. Heavy rifle fire. “75’s” very -angry, and beating all known records of rapid fire. Their song sings me -to sleep. I am not afraid of shells when I am sleeping. - - -_June 2nd._ - -After issue, go down on beach to our Train office, which is now dug in -the side of the cliff. It has twice been moved, each time farther and -farther round the cliff on the right of the beach looking seawards. -When shelling is on, our Train office soon becomes full of passing -officers, reminding me of a crowded pavilion at a cricket match when -rain stops the play. Just as the pavilion empties as the rain stops, -so does our Train office when the shelling stops. Then all the morning -there calls a continual stream of officers—R.E., Ordnance, Supply, -Artillery, and regimental—presenting their respective indents for -transport, which the Adjutant has difficulty with, in mathematically -fitting in the detailing of transport to satisfy their demands with -available wagons. It is a job that requires tact and organization. -Officers also call who come just to pass the time of day and exchange -rumours, or beach gossip as we call it. The circulation of rumours is -the best entertainment that we have, and though 95 per cent. of them -are estranged from truth by a large margin, yet life would be doubly -as dull as it is without them. They are always listened to with great -interest, though, before they are heard, listeners know they are going -to be miles off the target of truth. And if a man who has achieved a -reputation for carrying with him the latest and most interesting “beach -gossip” fails any morning in producing any, he causes really keen -disappointment. - -This morning we hear that the Turks are starved, have no clothes, are -almost at the last gasp for ammunition, and only require one more -hard knock before they retreat precipitously to lines which they -have prepared well beyond the slopes on the other side of Achi Baba. -The Navy then tell us that once Achi is in our hands we command the -Narrows; Chanak Fort will be shelled to a pile of bricks and stones, -the Fleet will make a dash up the Straits into the Marmora, and will -arrive before Constantinople in three days. After a heavy bombardment -of this city, the goal of our ambitions, we will attack the Turkish -Army, now starved and demoralized beyond recovery. They will be beaten -and will make unconditional surrender; the Peninsula will be ours, the -Dardanelles will be open, Russia and the Allies will link hands, and -the war will end six months after in glorious victory for our cause and -confusion to our enemies. - -We drink in minor rumours day by day that are given as irrefutable -evidence in support of these prophecies; we are buoyed up in hope and -spirits thereby, and ourselves spread the rumours to those of our -friends who still remain pessimistic. - -I go up to the Main Supply depot, and there, having by now been given a -reputation for carrying good and juicy rumours, I cheer them up by the -news that Achi will be ours by June 30th. Smart, one of the officers -there, who was in the retreat from Mons, makes me a bet, and the stake -is a nice ruler that he has on his desk. I promptly book the bet. I go -up to Brigade and have tea, and supply them with the latest rumours. - - -_June 3rd._ - -It is very windy to-day, and is blowing nearly a gale, and wind on the -tip of this peninsula is an unpleasant element to be up against. In -consequence, the beach is smothered with dust, and clouds of it fly in -all directions, covering everybody and everything. - -While issuing, shells burst on the crest of the high ground at the back -of the beach steadily all the time, and nearer inland puffs of shrapnel -are visible. They cannot reach us here with shrapnel, thank goodness! -Shrapnel is so comprehensive. A lucky shell comes to within ten yards -of our depot, kills a man, a passer-by, outright, wounds a sailor, and -slightly wounds my butcher in the knee. - -I ride up to Brigade with Phillips. General Doran shows us map of our -objective, and carefully marks thereon where rations are to be dumped -to-morrow night, for to-morrow is to be the day of an attack upon our -part to take Achi. If successful, then the beginning of the end of the -show will be in sight. No news from outside world, and a great scarcity -of papers. Reading a paper about a month old is now a great luxury. - -In the evening, Williams and Phillips and myself borrow a boat from -an M.L.O. and have a short row round. It makes splendid exercise, and -the scenes on shore are very interesting. Why did not we think of it -before? When they shell the beach, all we have to do is to get into a -boat and row out to sea, and then watch the fun. Surely a submarine -would not trouble to torpedo us, and it would be a shell with our name -and address on that would hit us. We pass a submarine—British—marked -B9, a very small one. An officer is in the conning tower and says “Good -evening” to us. We chat, and he invites us on board. Two sailors hold -our little boat while we clumsily climb on to the submarine’s slippery -back. We climb down a perpendicular iron ladder through a hole not much -larger than a coal-shoot to a cellar under a street. Inside we find -only one chamber, awfully cramped and small. At one end of this sleep -the men, and at the other two officers. The chamber provides quarters -for men and officers alike, and engine-room, ward-room, and ante-room, -all in one, like Dan Leno’s one-roomed house. In Dan Leno’s words, -“If you want to go into the drawing-room—you stay where you are!” I -am shown the working of the engines, and try to look wisely at the -intricate host of levers and brass things, but really can understand -nothing at all of what the officer is talking about. I am shown how a -torpedo is fired. You pull a thing out and she shoots. Phillips appears -to know all about it though, but he doesn’t really. I look through the -periscope, turn the lens round, and suddenly before my eyes I see “V” -Beach and Sed-el-Bahr in vivid detail. What joy it must be to spot a -Hun battleship and see her effectively hit! - -The officer then invites us to sit down and call for drinks. I gasp; -we never heard of such things on shore. An attentive A.B., smiling -benevolently, brings along about half a dozen bottles and glasses. -The officer apologizes for not having much choice. Is he pulling -our legs? What perfectly charming beings these Naval fellows are! I -choose sherry. Williams gets chatty about the Middlesex Yeomanry. The -Middlesex Yeomanry always comes into Williams’s conversation when he -gets chatty, but I can’t connect this regiment with submarines at the -moment. I have two glasses, and we rise to go. Our perfectly delightful -host expresses regret that we must go, and invites us again in the near -future. Up the perpendicular iron steps we climb. Phillips, leading, -puts his heavy boot in my face. It seems a long way up those steps. Up -in the cool air, with the breeze blowing in my face, the deck of the -submarine seems much narrower than when we first came on board. I look -at the little boat gently heaving in the water alongside, and take one -cautious step on to one of its seats, and with one foot in the boat and -one on the submarine I turn to thank my host again. The little boat -falls with the swell of the sea, and I promptly sit down very hard into -her. All aboard, we row back merrily. Hear that two shells have arrived -on the beach during our absence. Shells! Pugh! that’s nothing. We don’t -worry about shells, now! - -I swear that I had only two sherries; but I am very empty inside, and -the cool air, after a stuffy atmosphere—— Yes! even a Padre might feel -like that. - - -_June 4th._ - -I awake and rise early. To-day is the battle, and to-night we shall be -probably feeding our troops in or beyond Krithia. To-day will probably -be a great day for our arms. - -I get my issuing over early, and ride up to Brigade H.Q. and see Usher, -asking him if he has any further instructions. All the arrangements -are complete, and I hope that I shall have to take the rations up to -or beyond Krithia, for then we shall have tasted complete victory. I -see General Doran, who is hard at work. Two officers of the Egyptian -Army arrive and talk awhile with me. I learn that they have landed -only this morning. They are dressed very smartly; polished Sam Brown, -revolver, smart tunic and breeches and boots, but I think they are -making a mistake. They look like the pictures of a military tailor’s -advertisement. Most officers of the infantry dress like the men, to -lessen the chances of an enemy sniper getting them. I get back to “W” -Beach at 10.30 a.m. and see the _Implacable_ and _Albion_ coming slowly -in, with destroyers and submarines all around each ship, jealously -guarding them from submarines’ attacks. A French battleship, I think -the _Saint-Louis_, is off “V” Beach. Destroyers are on the patrol, as -usual, searching for the dreaded submarine enemy. Three hospital ships -are now in. - - -_11 a.m._ - -The French “75’s” start the music, bursting out into a roar of anger. -Shortly after, all our shore batteries join in, and the 60-pounders -make our ears feel as if they would burst until we get used to it. The -bombardment increases; the battleships and destroyers now join in with -all their guns. The noise is infernal, after the quiet that we have -been used to. I go up to the high ground at the back of “W” Beach, lie -down in a trench, and watch the show through strong glasses. Only a few -are with me in the trench. Next to me is Beetleheimer, our _liaison_ -officer. He speaks Turkish like a native, and is a very charming and -decent old boy. Tremendous shelling now going on, and it seems to grow -more and more intense—hundreds of shells bursting along the Turkish -positions. Turkish artillery replies furiously, mostly with shrapnel, -all along our trenches. No shells come on the beaches. Hundreds of -white puffs of shrapnel burst all along the line, and fountain-like -spurts of black and yellow smoke, followed by columns of earth, are -thrown into the air, ending in a fog of drifting smoke and dust. - - -_12 noon._ - -The bombardment slackens and almost dies away suddenly, and I hear a -faint cheer, but searching the line carefully with my glasses, can see -no signs of life. - -After a short pause the bombardment bursts again, even more intensely, -and then slackens, and our guns increase the range. I can see three -armoured cars on the right of our centre, which before I had not -noticed, one behind the other, each one a short distance to the right -of the one in front, moving slowly along the flat ground on either side -of the Sed-el-Bahr road, and they actually pass over our front line -and creep up to the Turkish front, driving backwards. They halt, and -I see the spurts of flame coming from their armoured turrets as their -machine-guns open fire. After about ten minutes I see the car furthest -behind move back to our line, now driving forwards, and after a while -the remaining two follow. Our shells burst thickly, smothering the -Turkish first and second lines and all the way up the slopes of Achi -Baba. I see our men in the centre leap from the trenches, and the sun -glistens on their bayonets. I see them run on in wave after wave, some -falling, and remaining lying on the grass like sacks of potatoes. I can -see nothing on the left. Now I see the French on the hill on the right -of our line, and the hill is covered with dark figures rushing forward. -The din and roar continues, and I am called away to my dump. - - -_2 p.m._ - -Rumour hath it that we have taken the first two lines of trenches. The -armoured cars return to their dugout garage, one with one man wounded -inside. - - -_4.30 p.m._ - -Prisoners come marching down the beach under escort. Big, hardy chaps, -in ill-fitting khaki clothes, and many with cloth helmets on their -heads, looking rather like the paper hats I used to make when a kid. - - -_6 p.m._ - -I go up to see the Quartermasters, to pass on instructions that rations -to-night will be dumped at the same place as last, namely at the ruined -house in front of Pink Farm—and so we cannot have advanced much. I meet -a wounded R.N.D. officer, and he tells me that the French have been -forced to give way on the right, and that his Division, immediately on -their left, having advanced, are in consequence rather hung between -the Devil and the deep sea. I stop and look through Butler’s strong -telescope, and see in front of Krithia, before a green patch, which we -on the beach call the cricket pitch, little figures digging in hard at -a new line. - - -_9 p.m._ - -Rifle fire still intense, and shore batteries going at it—all out. The -battleships have gone home to bed. - -Achi Baba looks more formidable than ever. - - -_11 p.m._ - -Steady rifle fire going on. We have advanced some five hundred yards in -centre, and are holding the ground won. The French have not advanced. - -I learn that when our bombardment suddenly stopped, shortly after noon, -and when our infantry raised a cheer, the enemy stood right up on the -fire-steps of their parapets, preparing to meet their charge. Our -infantry did not leave their trenches. Instead, our machine-guns got on -to the Turks, waiting exposed, and bagged many by their fire. - - -_June 5th, 6 a.m._ - -Steady rifle firing still continues, having gone on all night. - - -_Noon._ - -Row to French submarine with Phillips, Williamson and Foley, and after -pulling round, looking interested, are invited on board. - -Phillips has one foot on the slippery back of the submarine and one -foot on the boat, rocking in the sea, when a dog comes rushing along -the deck of the submarine barking furiously. Pained expression on -Phillips’s face a study. Dog held back by a French sailor. - -Most interesting on board the submarine. Engines and mechanical gear -a marvellous piece of work. Very interesting looking through the -periscope. Two charming officers, having lunch in a dear little cabin, -talk to us. Submarine four times as big as the British one that we went -aboard two days ago. - -Hear that Prosser and Wyman, friends of mine in the Hampshires, have -been hit and are on hospital ships. Damned fine chaps! Hear later that -Bush, of Worcesters, another friend and a splendid fellow, has gone, -blown to bits by a shell while leading a charge yesterday. Fine man; -he had been wounded, and had been awarded the Military Cross, at the -landing. - -Also the two Gypy officers, who reported at Brigade H.Q. when I was -there yesterday, have gone, killed while leading their new companies. - -This happens after every battle. One makes friends—such fine -friends!—and one is always suddenly losing them, leaving such gaps as -sometimes make one wish that one could follow them. - -But it is against the tradition of the service to be morbid about it, -and so we “carry on,” knowing that those who have gone West would, if -they were still with us, be cheery, brave, cool, and efficient at their -respective jobs. - - -_4 p.m._ - -Go up to Brigade H.Q. with O’Hara—leave the horses at Pink Farm and -walk to H.Q. Find them all up at an observation post, just behind the -firing-line, which has moved forward after yesterday’s battle. - -The C.R.E. 29th Division joins us. A most unconcerned individual. He -goes on up across country. O’Hara waits a bit to give some instructions -and then goes on, and I follow. After a bit across the country, with a -few “overs” flying about (“overs” are bullets which have missed their -target, but which are still travelling at a high velocity), we dip -down into a gully and follow its winding path for about ten minutes -to the observation post, where C.R.E. and the rest of the Staff have -already arrived. Bullets fairly whizzing overhead. Usher tells me to -step closer to the side, which I promptly do, on account of a few -bullets which are on the descent. Very interesting there. Telephone and -signallers busy, and orderlies arriving and departing. A few shells -scream overhead. We all have tea, and chat. Thompson looks rather ill -and worried. All the time we are having tea there is a constant “ping” -of bullets over the dugout. Look through observation hole and have a -perfect view of yesterday’s battlefield. The Worcesters advanced and -are holding their position. They are exposed to enfilading fire as -well as frontal fire from the Turks, but are digging in to protect -themselves. They are very near Krithia, digging on that green patch of -land which we call the cricket pitch. Krithia looks very formidable -the closer one gets to it. Turkish trenches are very deep, with good -dugouts for sleeping and very deep, wide communication trenches. Hence -we hardly ever see a Turk. Their firing-line and the sleeping dugouts -are actually boarded. - - -_11.30 p.m._ - -As I turn into bed there is firing all along the line. Turkish -counter-attack going on. Our casualties yesterday very heavy, but -Turks’ colossal. The _Goeben_ fired over to us to-day with not much -damage; shells did not reach the beach. - -I hear that Colonel Williams, or General, as I have up to now been -calling him on account of his having acted as Brigadier of the 88th, up -to the arrival of General Doran, was wounded in yesterday’s battle. On -General Doran’s arrival he went to the 2nd Hampshires, his regiment, -and took command. When the moment for the infantry attack arrived, -they leapt over, and in an incredibly short space of time had taken -their first objective. Colonel Williams, with his Adjutant, then -followed over to make his H.Q. in the newly won trench. - -On inspecting it and making arrangements for the attack on the second -objective, he came back to his old H.Q. to telephone the result, an -orderly accompanying him. Half-way back a Turk leapt up from behind -a bush, ten yards away from him, and fired his rifle, the bullet -instantly killing Colonel Williams’s orderly. Colonel Williams drew his -revolver, took deliberate aim, and the Turk, also taking deliberate -aim, levelled his rifle at the same time. For a second an old-time -duel might have been taking place, in the middle of an historic -battleground, which was lately No-man’s-land. Both fire; the Turk falls -dead, and Colonel Williams is wounded in the left arm. That Turk was a -brave man, but I think Colonel Williams is a braver. - - -_June 6th, 7 a.m._ - -Shells come over on east side of the beach from a four-gun Turkish -battery, and big stuff too, about 6-inch. - - -_7.30 a.m._ - -More arrive in middle of our camp on the west side of the battery. We -take cover under a cliff. I, wanting to get down to Train office, go up -a cliff and am just about to descend the steps when the shriek of one -is heard, by which I could tell it is close to me. I fall flat into a -hole on one side of the cliff, and it passes over the cliff and bursts -on the beach, killing gunner sergeant-major. Ugh! how they shriek. - -Heavy firing continued on left all night. We lost a trench, but -regained it. A Turkish Padre is a prisoner on the beach to-day. He -looks rather a dear old chap, with quite a benevolent expression. - - -_6 p.m._ - -I go up to Brigade with Carver in the afternoon, leaving our horses at -Pink Farm. My old mare knows Pink Farm well now. When I dismounted -to-day and let go the reins, she walked over to the tree that I always -tie her to, under cover of the farm, quite on her own. - -At H.Q. bullets are zipping over more frequently than I have ever -known them to do before. Waiting to see General Doran, who should I -see strolling calmly across the country but my friend Dent, of the -Inniskillings. The last time we had met was at a gramophone dance at -some common friends’ home in Edgbaston. We have a chat about those -days, and ask each other for news of the partners we used to dance -with. All the time, “ping-ping,” bullets fly about, but as he does -not seem to mind, I take my cue from him and try not to mind either. -Besides, it would be rather nice to get a cushy one in the arm. - - -_11 p.m._ - -We are being shelled by a battery from Kum Kale. This is the first time -we have been shelled at night. They do not reach our side of the beach, -and, as Phillips says he “can read the mind of the Turkish gunner” (he -is always saying this, and I have great confidence in him), and that we -are off the target, I go to sleep without anxiety. - - -_June 7th._ - -Heavy gun with high explosive kicking up a devil of a row all day, but -not reaching the beach, bursting in the valley on the way to Brigade -H.Q. Plenty of artillery duelling all day. Asiatic battery fires on -transports and hits one several times, setting her alight, and she now -has a heavy list on. French crew rush to boats and clear off quick. -British torpedo destroyer goes alongside, puts crew on board the -transport, and they put out the fire. All transports move further out -to sea, and Turkish battery shuts up. - -I have to feed the prisoners, and a party of them come up to our depot -under a guard to draw rations. Transport is provided by two G.S. -wagons. There are ten of them in the party, and one of their N.C.O.’s. -They fall in in two ranks, and wherever I move they follow me with -their eyes. I then motion to their N.C.O. to load up a certain number -of boxes. He gives an order in Turkish, and they load up in remarkably -quick time. They are then fallen in by their N.C.O., and one of them -who is rather dilatory is pushed into his place by the others. Marching -in front of their G.S. wagons, they go back to their barbed wire -enclosure. They appeared most anxious to do the right thing. Many of -them were raggedly clothed, with their boots almost out at heel. No -shelling during night. - - -_June 8th._ - -Hardly any Turkish shelling this morning. Went up to Brigade H.Q. -While there, Usher, the Brigade Major, shows me the wires that were -received and sent to and from the Brigade H.Q. during the battle of -June 4th, and they make interesting reading, telling a grim story in -short, pithy, matter-of-fact sentences. Troops now consolidating line -and making it firm. The Lancashire Fusiliers successfully took a trench -last night, and straightened the line somewhat. _Askold_ popping off on -the Asiatic side to silence Turkish batteries. - -My friend Dent, of the Inniskillings, hit last night by a spent bullet -in the gully, but I think not seriously. Grogan, of the K.O.S.B.’s., -a delightful chap, was killed by a shell on June 4th. Such a splendid -fellow! - -My mare, looking very fit now, gets quite frisky when I ride out to the -front every morning, and is getting better at jumping across trenches. - - -_June 9th._ - -Blowing a great gale down the Peninsula, and the dust is perfectly -awful. I have never experienced such a wind, and yet an aeroplane goes -up, but for a bit is absolutely stationary, and soon has to land. - -Turks in a very strong position on the left. Country lends itself -naturally to defences. Ride up to line with Phillips and Way. Coming -back, Way’s horse lashed out at my mare, kicking me in the shin, making -a nasty place. My leg is now bandaged, and I limp rather badly. - -Very little firing to-day. Asiatic battery woke us up at 5.30 a.m. and -tried to bombard transports, all shells falling into the sea. - -Rowed out to sea and went on board submarine B10 with Phillips, and saw -North. Actually had a drink. Also they have a gramophone, and it was -absolutely gorgeous listening to familiar music, carrying us back to -our past peaceful existence once more. - -As we go up on deck to take our leave, a torpedo boat circles round -us, a signaller wagging to us. The signal is taken by one of the crew -of the submarine, transmitted to the commander, and reads, “Anything -we can do for you?” He replies, “No, thanks. Any news?” and the -torpedo-boat destroyer signals back some news that has just come -through of progress made by our force in Mesopotamia on the road to -Bagdad. We are told that daily torpedo-boat destroyers come along and -offer to do little jobs for the officers on board the submarine, and -sometimes send over delicacies, such as roast fowl hot, etc. - - -_June 10th, 5.30 a.m._ - -Shells popping off at shipping again, and one hits the beach. Also the -Turks in front get very busy, for four hours bombarding our position. I -believe that they really think that they are going to push us into the -sea. - - -_5.30 p.m._ - -I walk along the road at the foot of the cliff towards “X” Beach. The -road is now a good one, and the transport is making continual traffic -up and down. It is very convenient, for transport can move not only -under cover from the enemy, but in safety to a certain extent, for up -to now but few shells drop over the cliff on to this road. I know a -place, however, from which they can shell this road and the slope of -the cliff, and that is on their extreme right overlooking the sea. From -there they can look along parts of the road and side of the cliff, -which is in view of their trenches; though other parts, by the coast, -jutting out a little for small distances, are under perfect cover, and, -in fact, quite safe. - -Passing the Greek Labour Camp, I continue my walk to “X” Beach, which -is about half as wide as “W” and a quarter as deep. Instead of the -ground sloping up gently at the back, as is the case at “W” Beach, it -rises at a steep angle to the top of the cliffs. Unlike “W” Beach, it -comes constantly under shrapnel shell fire, but receives very few heavy -shells, and is far more under cover than is “W.” - -The road to Gully Beach, at the foot of the cliffs of “X” Beach, is -not finished yet, and is in a very rough state. Just before I reach -Gully Beach I come upon Brigade H.Q. dug in at the side and foot of -the cliff. The battalions are “dug in” in as much regimental order -as possible along the sides of the cliff, which are higher here than -further down the Peninsula, and more under cover. Shells now and again -burst, shrapnel chiefly, on the top of the cliff, and a few come over -and fall with a big splash into the sea, but none burst on the slopes -of the cliff. I hear, though, that one man yesterday was cut in half by -a shell while bathing. A horrid sight! - -This camp on the slopes of the cliff is now the Rest Camp of the -Division, and while two Brigades are in the line, one Brigade is at -rest. At rest, that is, from bullets, and, if they keep under the -cliff, from shells, but not at rest from digging fatigues. The road has -to be made, and so have the dugouts on the side of the cliff. They get -good bathing though, and bathing out here beats any that I have ever -struck. - -I talk to the only two officers left of those who were with the -Worcesters in England. They appear very breezy and bright. - -We are hard at work building our men’s bivouac, which is in the form of -a funk-hole. We are digging it in the side of the cliff, from the top, -and it will be entered by about ten steps leading down on to a terrace, -which will run on the outside of the house, dug into the cliff’s side, -under a sloping roof made with a sailcloth. It will be so situated -that, should shells come our way, they will either burst on top, where -our old bivouac still is, or fly over the cliff and burst in the road -below or in the sea. - -We are modelling ours on a bivouac of some R.N.D. officers about fifty -yards further up the cliff-side. On their terrace they have all their -meals, including dinner at night, which is a luxury, with the sound of -the waves washing against the road below and the view of Imbros in the -distance. In their dugout house at night they go to sleep with more -feeling of security than I have at present. - -I share a tent with Phillips. Just as I am turning in, Way comes in to -say that Asia has just started sending over high explosives. None reach -us, but they make a devil of a row, and I fall asleep feeling rather -uncomfortable. - - -_June 12th._ - -Woke up at 5.30 a.m. by shelling, shells from Asia nearly reaching -a big transport that had come in overnight, on the opposite of our -“bivvy.” Wind and flies as bad as ever, and it is getting very hot. -Dust smothering everything. Turks reported to be sick of the war, and -rumoured to be individually seeking a chance to give themselves up. But -it is still a long, long way to Achi Baba. That must be taken first. - -Cliff on the west side up to Gully Beach covered with troops, looking -like a lot of khaki ants from a distance; all back resting. They have -to keep well under cover of cliffs, as they would soon be shelled. -Major Lang, Worcesters, killed in the last battle. He was the officer -I saw in the trenches when I went up for Bush’s letters. Bush also -killed. This side of the war is the most difficult to bear. - -Just heard that Brigade are moving back to trenches after three days’ -rest. - - -_June 13th._ - -Perfect day; wind dropped, but still a slight breeze. Have got into our -new “bivvy” on side of cliff. Went up to Brigade H.Q. in front of Pink -Farm. All well. Hear they are moving forward to-morrow three hundred -yards. Creeping nearer to our goal. General Doran gone back to England, -ill after last battle. Lieutenant-Colonel Cayley, late O.C. of the -Worcesters, now Acting Brigadier-General. “Asiatic Annie” popped off -and dropped shells nicely on Krithia road, on spot that I and my mare -had passed five minutes before, and she sends some nasty ones. - -Also she is dropping high explosives in French camp in Morto Bay. I -don’t think I shall bathe there for a bit. - - -_5.30 a.m._ - -French aeroplane falls into sea. Pilot and observer can be seen sitting -on top of wing. Destroyers come to the rescue, and also several -motor-boats. Officer picked up and aeroplane taken in tow. - - -_June 15th._ - -Many reinforcements have arrived, and troops are everywhere now, -covering the Helles plateau up to Pink Farm with their camps, dug-in -in trenches called rest camps. There is not much rest for them to-day, -for Asia as well as Achi is making them their target. As I assay to go -up to Brigade H.Q. I find the West Krithia being shelled. It is almost -impossible to ride across country on account of the camps, and one has -to keep to the roads, so I postpone my journey to later on in the day. -I get laughed at for this. But it is the first time that I have started -to go to Brigade H.Q. and funked it. I reply that if they would like a -nice fat shell in their tummies they can ride up the West Krithia road -now. However, they are only ragging, and any man who looks for shells -is a fool. - -We are being shelled very badly from Asia to-day. They appear to have -six big guns over there, somewhere opposite Morto Bay, and, no doubt, -they have observation posts at Kum Kale or Yen-i-Shehr, and can see -all that we are doing. We must make perfect targets. Their shells -are reaching all over the Peninsula now, and one fell right over our -“bivvy,” exploding in the shallow water of the sea, killing a quantity -of fish. These shells from Asia are doing a lot of damage; every time -they come, men lose their lives or get wounded, while the casualties -among the animals are keeping the hands of the Veterinary Services full. - -A 6-inch shell came right in the Supply depot this afternoon, but did -not explode, yet it caused a sad casualty. It struck the leg of an -A.S.C. driver, a boy of twenty, and severed it clean from his body. He -evidently did not realize it, for he made an attempt to stand up and -hold back his mule, which was bolting with fright, but, of course, he -immediately fell back. Shortly after, he died. - -They shelled us at intervals until dusk, just two or three at a time, -and at intervals of half an hour or so, keeping us on tenterhooks. -Phew! give me the nice deep trenches when this goes on, where one walks -about in comparative safety. There is no cover on “W” Beach. You hear -the distant boom, and then fall and grip the bosom of Mother Earth as -a frightened child does its mother. Then—get up and go on with your -job. But not so the A.S.C. driver. His order is to stand by his mule -on “W” Beach, that bull’s-eye of a target, and I hope that many of -these drivers are not forgotten when names are called to be sent in for -honourable mention. Riding and driving their mules at the same time, -they are prevented from hearing the horrid shriek of the on-rushing -shell by the loud sound that the wheels of their G.S. wagons make, -and only when they see and hear a nerve-racking explosion, or hear -metal whizzing past their heads, making a sound like a propeller of -an aeroplane, do they realize that they are under fire and in instant -danger of being blown to bits. Yet they must not leave their mules. -They must get the animals, wagons, and themselves under cover as soon -as possible. As soon as possible! and that may mean ten minutes, and -ten minutes of Hell. - -I have not yet seen a driver leave his mules, but I have seen several -wounded and one or two lads killed. But _c’est la guerre_—it is only -the A.S.C. quietly doing its job. No glory and honour. But ask an -infantry man in the line here if he would change places with an A.S.C. -driver on the beach, and he will say that he prefers to stay in his -trench and take his chance when the moment for the leap over the -parapet comes. But the A.S.C. never talk much; they just do their job, -and when cursed for this, that, and the other trivial matter, say, -“Sorry; we will see if the matter can be improved.” “Improved!” We are -the finest fed army in the world. Where is the room for improvement? - -At dusk I go up to Brigade H.Q. with my staff-sergeant, and overtake a -draft for the Hampshires on the way to join their battalions. I meet -Usher, and he conducts them to their new trenches, and asks me to take -Major Beckwith, who is just back, having now recovered from a wound in -his leg, received on April 28th, after he had earned the D.S.O., up to -Brigade; which I do, and I wait and have a drink with General Cayley. -There are not many bullets about. Star lights go up continually from -our and the enemy’s front line. - -It is a weary walk back, and I wish that I had ridden. - -Milward, Naval Landing Officer, came to dinner last night. He was the -Landing Officer on the _Dongola_, and had the job of sending us off to -our doom on April 25th. Also Warburton, off a submarine. He was with -Holbrook when he got the V.C. - - -_June 16th._ - -Not very heavy shelling this morning. A few rounds near our depot at -issuing time. No shells from Asia. The French have been touching them -up a bit over there, and probably they are shifting their position. The -French are hot stuff in getting on to the enemy’s positions. - -No letters, no rumours, and life very monotonous. Large numbers of men -going off sick with dysentery. - -In the afternoon they start shelling again up the Krithia road, and -again I postpone my visit to Brigade H.Q. until nightfall, and ride -up this time. First time my mare has been to Pink Farm by night, and -she does not like it at all. There are plenty of bullets by night, and -but few by day. They continually flatten themselves against the ruined -walls of Pink Farm. The Turk appears to enjoy sitting in his trench, -cocking his rifle up, and spraying with bullets the road up which he -knows transport will come. - -Riding back, just half-way to “W” Beach from Pink Farm I see a bright -flash to my left on the shores of Asia, and a few seconds after hear -the deep boom of “Asiatic Annie,” a shriek, and a dull thud on “W” -Beach. This is the first shell from “Asiatic Annie” sent over by night, -and if we are going to get them by night our life will be pretty -poisonous. No place on this little tip of land is safe from shells -now, and this afternoon the ships lying off have to clear away. To see -a battleship now is a rare event, on account of the constant fear of -submarines. - - -_June 17th._ - -Coming back from issuing this morning to my “bivvy” on the cliff, I -hear ship’s horns tooting continuously, and running to the edge of the -cliff I see a supply ship, which is lying immediately opposite, hoist -a red flag, being the signal that submarines are about. Destroyers, -mine-sweepers, and small pinnaces from shore put out to the transport -and cruise round and round her. I see distinctly a shadow glide along -on the water on the side of the ship farthest from us, looking like -the shadow from a cloud in the sky, and then it disappears. Men on -board are all around the ship, peering over the side. Then suddenly I -see bobbing about in the water, like a big fisherman’s float, the red -tip of a torpedo. Some one on a trawler shouts through a megaphone to -the other craft, “Look out for that torpedo!” A small row-boat from -the trawler puts out, rows up to the bobbing object in the water, -fastens a rope round its nose and rows away, towing it after them. On -nearing No. 1 Pier, the pier nearest to us, an M.L.O. standing at the -pierhead shouts, “Is the pistol head on?” A reply from the boat says -“Yes,” and the M.L.O. shouts back, “Well, take the damn thing away and -sink it.” The oarsmen then head their boat out to sea, and, after some -arrangement which I cannot see through my glasses, sink the torpedo. - -Ordnance get to hear of this and are annoyed, for they would prize such -a find as one of the latest German torpedoes. It was quite 15 feet -long, with a red-painted nose and a long, shining, bronze-coloured body. - -Later, we hear that the submarine had fired two torpedoes, and by being -too close to her quarry, missed. By being too close, also, she was -missed by the destroyers, for they, at the time, were making circles -around the transport at about the distance of the usual effective range -of a torpedo. Shortly after, the supply ships were driven off out to -sea by the Asiatic guns. Our 60-pounder guns are firing hard over -to Asia. I hope they have got the range of their guns. Our bivouac, -unfortunately, is in the direct line of their fire, and as each shot is -fired we can’t help jumping, and our “bivvy” shakes its flimsy walls. - -Three shells from Asia pitched right into our hospital on the edge -of the cliff on the left of “W” Beach looking seawards, killing two -orderlies and wounding six, yet the doctors calmly went on with their -work of bandaging and dressing. The hospital is on a bad site, for it -is only divided by a road from the little village of marquees forming -the Ordnance depot. - -At 8.30 p.m. I go up to Brigade H.Q. with an orderly, and leave the -horses at Pink Farm, and walk across that two hundred and fifty yards -with bullets whistling more than usual, for to-night the Turks appear -more energetic with rifle fire. It is an eerie sensation, walking -across there in the dark when many bullets are about—walking very -fast, almost counting one’s steps, and getting nearer and nearer to -the little light on the side of the hill. Had a chat there for twenty -minutes in the dugout with General Cayley and his Staff, and had a -drink. Rather a nice picture, with the candles and the cheery officers -sitting round; outside, the sound of bullets whistling continuously. I -say good-night and go out, and find my orderly crouching pretty well -down in a dugout, and he says he thinks we had better hurry out, as it -is a bit hot, and as he says so, “ping” goes a bullet between us. But -the bullets do not give me the fear that those horrible high explosive -shells from Asia do. A moon is getting up, and so we are able to trot -back smartly. The scene on the Krithia road at night is just what -I imagined, in past life, war to be. The wagons trekking up to the -trenches, with, of course, no lights, and troops of all kinds moving up -and down. In the distance, star shells shooting up and sailing gently -down, illuminating the country as light as day, and as one gets nearer -to the firing-line the crackle of musketry gets louder and louder, -and during the final walk of three hundred yards from Pink Farm to -H.Q., the song of bullets flying past one makes one very much alive. -Overhead, a perfect sky and myriads of stars looking down on a great -tragedy with a certain amount of comic relief. These days we wish for -more comic relief than we are getting. - - -_June 18th._ - -This morning Asia’s guns have not worried us so far, but the batteries -in front of Achi Baba are very active, and are worrying the troops in -the valley very much. The sound of bursting shrapnel reminds me of the -spit and snarls of angry cats. Our artillery is quiet. Rumour says that -another enemy submarine has been accounted for, but the one that came -in yesterday morning is still at large, and consequently our Fleet is -unable to come and help us. At two o’clock H.M.S. _Prince George_ is -sighted off Imbros, surrounded by twelve destroyers and preceded by -seventeen mine-sweepers. It was a very impressive sight to see—all -these destroyers and sweepers jealously guarding the great ship from -submarine attack. - -She takes up a position opposite the Asiatic coast, well out from the -mouth, and then opens fire with all big guns on the Turkish batteries -on Asia in position opposite Morto Bay. We enjoy seeing the pasting -that she gives them, her big guns rapidly roaring away and belching -forth spurts of flame and buff-coloured smoke. Everybody imagines that -every Turkish gun must be knocked out. After four hours, she leaves -with her retinue of smaller ships. Half an hour after, one big gun -on the Asiatic side opens fire on to “V” Beach, and simultaneously a -heavy Turkish attack on our left starts, supported by a tremendous -bombardment from Turkish artillery. The fight lasted all night, and -ended about six in the morning. Their infantry left their trenches very -half-heartedly, and our machine-guns accounted for a heavy toll of -enemy casualties. - - -_June 19th._ - -We gave way at a part of our line last night, but regained the ground -later in the early morning, and our line is still intact, and as we -were. We lost heavily, but Turkish losses were enormous. - -Captain Usher, my Staff Captain, was killed this early morning in the -trenches by shrapnel, and I feel his loss awfully. He was always so -charming to me. It’s the “good-uns” that go, as Wilkie Bard says. I -am sure this war is too terrible to last long; it is simply wholesale -butchery, and humanity will cry out against it soon. - -At 11.30 an exceptionally heavy shell came over from Asia (a high -explosive) and fairly shook the earth. Two minutes after, two more -came, and every living soul rushed for cover. Then for three hours -they pasted us: over they came, one after the other, with terrific -shrieks and deafening explosions, throwing chunks of hot jagged-edged -metal whizzing in all directions. All the mules and horses, as far -as possible, were got under cover, and men rushed to their dugouts. -Carver, Way, Davy, Foley, Phillips, and I were under cover of the cliff -in our “bivvy,” which cannot be called a dugout, as it is simply a wide -platform cut in and built up on the side of the cliff and in the line -of fire, between the 60-pounder battery, twenty-five yards to our west, -and the Asiatic battery. The 60-pounders soon opened fire, and then a -duel began; and after one or two have pitched first over our “bivvy” -into the sea, and one or two just short, we get nervy and decide to -quit. Phillips and Davy made the first dash down the cliff, and the -others said they would wait for the next shell. It came shrieking -along, burst, and I got up and made a dart down the slope. I was down -to the bottom of that cliff in thirty seconds, and found myself with -the Divisional Ammunition Column people, and all amongst boxes of -high explosive. Ammunition Column Officers are there, but I begin to -think it would have been safer up in the “bivvy,” where the others -still were, for they did not follow me. After a lull in the firing, -I went up to the cliff, and half-way up they popped off again, and I -was fortunate in finding a very safe dugout belonging to Major Horton, -and he invited me in with Major Huskisson, Major Shorto, Poole, and -Weatherall. And while shells still come over, first bursting on the -beach, then in the sea, then on the top of our cliff, and then on the -high ground on the back of the beach, we have lunch. - - -_7.30 p.m._ - -I am writing this in our “bivvy” once more, and aeroplanes are up -spotting for the 60-pounders. They have just pooped off. One almost -shakes the cliff when she fires. Asia has answered, but the shell has -pitched on the east side of “W” Beach. The suspense of waiting for -these shells is getting on the nerves of us all. What gets on my nerves -more than shells is the losing of the “pukka” regular officers of this -splendid Division, who are so cheery and manly, so reassuring to one -and to each other. When they are killed, the stuffing and grit are -almost knocked out of you. We four Supply Officers have now been under -fire almost every day since April 25th, night and day, and a rest away -from it all would be awfully welcome. Yet we pull ourselves together -when we realize what the infantry have gone through and are still going -through; I hate talking like this, it makes me think I am getting “wind -up.” Fish is plentiful to-day, killed by Asia’s shells, brought in by -enterprising Greeks and sold to Tommies. Excellent eating. - - -_June 20th._ - -Last night one Asiatic gun fired over to our camp one high explosive -shell every half an hour, but everybody was well dug in, and no harm -was done. I was sound asleep. - -This morning Turkish artillery is very active, but Asia’s guns are not -doing much. We are improving our “bivvy,” making it possible to do -our work without much interruption. It is almost impossible to keep -books and organize the feeding of an army with high explosive and -other shells dropping around, Lord knows where next. At the Supply -depot, however, we are very exposed, and it is very trying to stand -there issuing day’s food and loading up the wagons with shells flying -overhead, and therefore I am having a proper dugout made. We have -had many casualties there now, and the Supply and Transport men have -absolutely no chance to save themselves when standing in the open, -with high explosives bursting near. We try and treat it humorously, but -it is always a relief when the job is done. - -This morning my staff-sergeant came to me and said, “The R.A. —— have -taken ——” (shriek of a shell and a bang, during which we both looked -over our shoulders) “them supplies to the gully, sir.” I reply, “All -right,” and then we both duck behind a biscuit-box as another shell -comes nearer. Not much use really getting behind a box, but it looks -safer than nothing at all. - -As Hyslop, our Canadian Vet., said, “Any hole looks good when Asia gets -busy.” - -This afternoon I walked along under the cliff to Gully Beach to see my -Brigade, who have now gone into reserve for a rest. On the way we pass -a Padre holding evening prayer and preaching a sermon. As I come back I -learn that several shrapnel had burst over the cliff, two officers, one -man, and a horse being wounded. A piece had hit the heel of the boot of -the Padre as he was conducting the service. - -I spoke to several officers of the Royal Scots who had been in the -fighting two nights ago, during which the Manchester Territorials -retired, evacuating two trenches, which the Royal Scots and one company -of the Worcesters took back twenty minutes after. Colonel Wilson, O.C. -Royal Scots, has been awarded the D.S.O. for this piece of work. - -Bombs were used freely, and when the Royal Scots had got to the -foremost trench, at one time Turks and British both occupied the same -trench, the Turks hastily erecting a barricade in the trench itself to -protect them from the Royal Scots, who, however, quickly drove them -out by bombs. Steel assured me that the Turks were using explosive -bullets, but I doubt this; but I do think that they reverse their -bullets now and again. I notice that his face is pitted with little -cuts, and I learn that he has suffered this through being in the front -line with his regiment in the battle of June 4th, and on reaching their -objective—the Turkish trench in front—while hastily helping in the work -of building a parapet with sand-bags, was struck full in the face by -a sand-bag bursting through being struck by machine gun fire. He is -acting Adjutant to the regiment. - -I hear that there is to be a French bombardment to-night, followed by -an infantry attack. - - -_June 21st, 6 a.m._ - -There is a fearful bombardment going on; every battery on shore is -concentrating its gunfire on a Turkish redoubt on the Turkish left, -called the Haricot Redoubt, and also on the trenches. The Turkish -batteries are replying furiously, but without effect, though “Asiatic -Annie” is rather nasty, her shells falling around the French batteries. -One cannot see the effect, because of the dust that the shells are -kicking up, which is blowing right down to the beach. The 60-pounders -on our right, twenty-five yards away, are joining in with a deafening -report; only one is in this action. The echo of her voice plays ducks -and drakes around the coast and the few transports about, getting -fainter as the sound dies away. French battleship at mouth of Straits -firing heavily. Destroyers continually patrolling around her. - - -_11 a.m._ - -The infantry attack by the French has started, and there is a report of -heavy musketry all along their line. - - -_12 noon._ - -I can see the French advancing under a perfect hail of shrapnel over -the ridge behind De Tott’s Battery. They are lost to view, and now -I can only see hundreds of shells bursting and hear an undertone of -musketry. I can see nothing now but dust and smoke. - - -_4 p.m._ - -On duty at depot. Fighting died down. Howitzer from Asia firing our -way, but cannot reach us. Shells bursting about Hill 138. - -News that the French have done well and advanced quite a good way. - - -_6 p.m._ - -Asia fires on submarines off “W” Beach and nearly hits one. They clear -off for half an hour and then come back. - -Perfect weather, and fine day for flying. Aeroplanes doing good work, -whirring about over Achi Baba and Asia. - - -_7.45 p.m._ - -The Turks are counter-attacking our right in force, but the French, -with the support of the “75’s,” are holding the ground which they have -won to-day. Roar of guns growing louder and louder. - -If the French manage to hold their own, it will considerably lessen the -morale of the enemy, and the hill should be taken in the near future, -and our own job will be half over. - - -_8.30 p.m._ - -Battle still going on. On beach Tommies singing “There’s a Little Grey -Home in the West.” Sun just going down behind Imbros, making most -lovely colouring. Sea dead calm: most peaceful scene, looking out to -sea, but when one turns one’s back one sees a great battle raging three -miles inland. Extraordinary contrast. - - -_June 22nd._ - -Very hot, but perfect day. French attack successful yesterday. They -took two lines of trenches, and so have shortened and strengthened our -front. Walked with Phillips and Birch (second in command of another -submarine that has just arrived) to Gully Beach, overland. All quiet on -front. Turkish artillery dead quiet, but French “75’s” now and again -popping off. See Brigade H.Q., now in rest on the side of cliffs, and -also Essex Regiment. Hear that Revel, of the Essex, has died of wounds. -Ripping young chap. Had a cheery chat with him up at Brigade H.Q. two -weeks ago. The 29th Division officers are falling fast now, and we feel -their loss terribly. A Taube came over this morning and dropped three -bombs, but only hit one man, wounding him slightly, but killed nine -horses. I thought I saw the bombs drop quite clearly, as I was watching -through glasses, and it was surprising the time that they took to drop. -I may have been mistaken—the Taube was about over me—but I thought I -saw a pencil line, as it were, drawn against the sky. Nasty suspense -waiting for the things to reach the ground. - -O.C. of the West Lowland Territorial Engineers killed by shell at gully -yesterday. Very fine chap. - - -_8 p.m._ - -A quiet day. Rumour that we are to expect asphyxiating gas dodge, and -that we are going to have respirators served out. Unfortunately, the -prevailing wind is down the Peninsula and in our faces, and we are -barely four miles from the Turkish trenches. Beautiful evening, and the -sun setting behind Imbros is making most exquisite colouring. - - -_June 23rd, 10.30 a.m._ - -Turks very quiet. French “75’s” now and again firing. Very hot, fine -day. Rode last night to Gully Beach with Carver, round by road on -cliffs on “W” coast. Beautiful moonlight night. Wagons trekking up and -down, and now and again a sentry challenges with his bayonet pointed to -the breasts of our horses, which we rein in, at the same time shouting -“Friend,” answered by “Pass, friend; all’s well.” I should like to feel -that it really was “all well.” - -Enemy aircraft brought down yesterday, falling in Turkish lines. - -French losses in recent battle, 2,000. - -To-night I ride again with Carver to Gully Beach, which is now the home -of the 29th Division H.Q. - -The steep cliffs on either side of the gully are honeycombed with -dugouts, each with a little light shining, and in the declining light, -with the moon hanging overhead, shining on the sea, it is a very -beautiful sight. We had a topping ride back along the road on the edge -of the cliff overlooking the calm sea, lit up by silver moonlight. We -could see quite plainly enough to canter, and cantering by moonlight -in such beautiful surroundings is a unique pleasure. - - -_June 24th._ - -To-day has been very hot and arid, very fine, and the sea dead calm, -but artillery duels have been going on all day. - -As the French were so successful in their last battle, having captured -those trenches and the Haricot Redoubt on their left, thereby -straightening and shortening our line, I think there is going to -be another general attack for the hill to-morrow, preceded by an -exceptionally heavy bombardment. If successful, then the danger of -asphyxiating gas attack for the present is over. - -Went up to Brigade H.Q. with Phillips. Beautiful moonlight, and all -quiet on front. Had a nice gallop back on West Krithia road, but my -mare nearly ran away with me; a bit dangerous going, as there were so -many shell-holes about. Pink Farm and West Krithia road get so badly -dusted with shrapnel all day and every day now, that I usually go up by -night or early morning to H.Q. - - -_June 25th._ - -It is now exactly two months since we landed. Turkish artillery has -been fairly active to-day. It has been very hot, but a beautiful day, -and is now a most beautiful night, with the sea dead calm. We are -having some nice bathing. The fly pest is worse than ever, and is -frightfully worrying. The attack is not to come off to-morrow, after -all, but Sunday. - -To-day the _Lord Nelson_, escorted by destroyers, went up the West -Coast and bombarded some target behind Achi Baba. Shortly after, a -column of smoke arose behind the hill, and evidently the _Lord Nelson_ -has made good practice. She was shelled by a Turkish field battery, but -only two shells burst immediately over her, and hardly did any damage. - - -_June 26th._ - -I rose at 5.30 a.m. and, getting my mare saddled, rode over to the -other side of the beach and woke up Butler, the Quartermaster of the -Worcesters, who had promised to give me what he called “a personally -conducted Cook’s Tour to the first-line trenches.” We had some hot tea -and biscuits and a tot of rum, and then we mounted and started off. My -mare was full of the joy of life and very fresh. - -As we went over the crest on to the West Coast road, mist was hanging -low on the cliffs and at the foot of Achi Baba. Above, the sky was -cloudless. The words of Omar came to mind— - - Awake, for Morning in the bowl of Night - Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to flight. - -I wish the stone would put the Turks to flight. - -We rode to the gully, and then down on to the beach; there a priest -was preparing an altar on biscuit-boxes, and about four hundred troops -were waiting to take Holy Communion. We rode up the bed of the gully, -and it was the first time that I had been right up. The Engineers had -made a good road up, winding in and out between high, irregular cliffs, -covered with gorse, and passing little gullies running out of the main -one, to right and left. All up, for about a mile and a half, the sides -are honeycombed with dugouts for troops to rest after a spell in the -trenches, for Battery H.Q., and signal posts, etc. We passed the H.Q. -of the 86th Brigade, the latter being dug-in in a charming spot a mile -up from the beach. Thompson, my late Staff Captain, was seated on a -terrace high up the cliff, shaving, and shouted “Good-morning” to me. -Arriving at the head of the gully, we dismount and hand over horses to -a groom, with instructions to him to take them across country to Pink -Farm. We meet Harding, the Q.M. of the Royal Fusiliers. - -We climb up the right side of the gully—a most beautiful spot, which -would delight artists—and enter into a trench, over which bullets -whiz, and now and again shrapnel. Passing along the trench for some -way, we turn to the left, and go for quite a hundred yards along the -communication trench, leading into a maze of trenches, but we are -enabled to find our way by directing sign-boards, such as “To Reserve -Trenches,” “To Support Trenches,” “To Fire Trench,” and names of units -marked on as well. - -We at last find ourselves in the Reserve, and have a chat with the -Essex. Then we wend our way and pass along an uninhabited trench, an -evidently disused communication trench, and come on what is literally -the emblem of death grinning at us. We see a grinning skull, with -almost all the flesh rotted off it, a bundle of rags, a hand, and two -lower parts of legs with boots and puttees intact. Such a sight in -earlier life would have filled me with horror. But I look upon such -sights now as one would look upon a ruined house. - -We come to a dugout in the support trenches, and are asked to wait, as -two men have just been hit by shrapnel. Two R.H.A. men tell us that at -the end of the next communication trench there is a Naval 12-pounder -gun that had opened fire that morning on what was thought to be a -poisonous-gas factory in a nullah in the Turkish lines, and that a -Turkish battery had found our gun out and was shelling it. The two men -who happened to be here had been hit. Shelling seems to have ceased, -and one R.H.A. man said to the other, “Come on, Bill; if we are going -to get ’it, we are going to get ’it!” This sounded good philosophy, -and so we followed them. One of them shouldered a sack of food, and -the other two jars of rum. Round the corner we passed the two wounded -men—one wounded in the arm and the other badly in the shoulder; but -both seemed quite cheerful about it. - -We went along the communication trench, on and on, until I really -thought that the damn trench would lead into the Turkish lines, and -then it gradually got shallower and shallower, until we found ourselves -in the open, but under cover of a rise, which was more or less -protected from Turkish fire. Then, suddenly, we came on this 12-pounder -gun and saw three gunners crouching in a dugout. The two gunners who -were leading the way went off down another trench hastily, pointing the -way for us to follow to the fire-trenches, and we nipped over that open -space in double-quick time, I taking a heap of used cartridges in my -stride, and at last we found ourselves in the well dug-out front-line -fire-trenches, where we found the Worcesters. We had a chat with the -officers. - -Shortly after our arrival, shelling began again with that 12-pounder -for a target; they put salvo after salvo over at the place we had -passed. It was rather interesting watching the shelling from our part -of the trench, and the sergeant-major seemed to be thoroughly enjoying -it. - -We have a look at the front trenches, which are very well made, with -high parapets of sand-bags, iron loopholes, and periscopes, and nice -little dugouts for officers’ messes and for men to sleep in, and -kitchens, larders, stores, etc. All the time bullets whiz over or thud -against the sand-bags, but one feels quite safe there, although only a -hundred yards away from the Turks. It is a bit dangerous going along -the communication trenches by day, as in places one can be seen, and -from there can see the enemy, they being so shallow. We soon got back -along the beastly long communicating trench to the Reserve, another one -farther along to the one we came. Then to the support line, and up out -into a nullah, and following that along we came to the open place into -which several nullahs ran, known as “Clapham Junction,” which often -gets shelled pretty badly, and always under fire from “overs.” Thence -on to the main Krithia road, and across country to the Pink Farm, where -we found our horses waiting. They were shelling the West Krithia road, -and so we cut across country to the West Coast road, and cantered home -in fine style, arriving back to breakfast at 9.30 a.m. - -Not much artillery fire came from the Turks during the day, but the -“75’s” were steadily plugging them in. - - -_June 27th._ - -The attack is to take place to-morrow. I rode up to Brigade H.Q. this -morning. They were shelling a bit, but not much. - -To-day is very quiet, but we are steadily sending shells over. Asiatic -battery seems to have been withdrawn, but there is a very big gun -somewhere that sends a 6-inch over now and again to the neighbourhood -of Pink Farm, but it does not reach the beaches. - -In coming back from H.Q. this morning, shrapnel began to burst over -Pink Farm and behind, and I made my mare do her best gallop away, and, -in order to keep off the road, cut to the right across country. We -got amongst a maze of disused trenches, which she absolutely refused -to jump; and to top it all, she kept getting her legs entangled in -telephone wires laid along the ground, causing me to continually get -off to disentangle her. She is an awful fool over these things, and -those damned shells seemed to come nearer and nearer every minute. When -I _did_ get on the road, I made her gallop as she has never galloped -before. - - -_June 28th._ - -A beautiful summer morning. This morning is the morning of a battle. -We are going to try to take a Turkish redoubt on our extreme left, and -to push our line forward on the left, so as to curl somewhat round -Krithia. We call the redoubt “The Boomerang Fort.” - -H.M.S. _Talbot_ comes in with destroyers and mine-sweepers, and a -Monitor—the _Abercrombie_, I think—and they take up positions off Gully -and “Y” Beaches on the West Coast. - -A bombardment begins at 9 a.m., as I am issuing rations, the _Talbot_ -and two or three destroyers hurling over their large shells in an -enfilading fire on to the Turkish trenches and the redoubt, while all -our guns on shore, with the help of the French heavies and the now -invaluable little “75’s,” join in the concert. - -At 10 a.m., issuing finished, I take my glasses and walk along the -cliff, taking up a position on the side of an extra piece of high -ground, and sit comfortably there with my back to it. Two 60-pounders -behind me are firing away at the same target, at which all the guns on -land and sea are concentrating their awful fire, a target of not more -than fifteen hundred yards of the Turkish line, with the little redoubt -at the back. Shells—large, small, black, yellow, and white—burst in -hellish confusion and awful chaos, while Turkish batteries, raised -to fury, reply, first on to one battery, then another. But their fire -seems controlled by a flurried brain, for the shells burst harmlessly, -high in the air, or, except over our first line, of which they have the -range, accurately on no targets at all. - -Destroyers pour in broadsides, then swoop round, making a circle, and -take up a new position, letting forth viperous rounds of broadside once -more. A captive sausage-balloon on a tramp ship sails high in the air, -well out to sea, spotting for the _Talbot_ and the destroyers. It is -by far the most terrific and mighty bombardment that I have seen, and, -I think, appears to be so because of the large amount of artillery -concentrated on to so small a target. - - -_11 a.m._ - -The bombardment in no way seems to slacken, but I clearly see the -range increased, and hear the officer behind me commanding the two -60-pounders, which are in action just near, to increase the range. I -watch carefully, and as the smoke and dust quickly clear away from -the redoubt and Turkish front line, which had been subjected to this -terrible ordeal for two solid hours, I hear a roar of musketry, mingled -with the excited, rapid reports of machine-guns. I actually see, in -one part, a line of blue spurts of flame, a curious effect, caused -by the dark background of gorse and trees. And then the sun reflects -on hundreds of small metal discs, and I see leap as one man from our -trenches rows and rows of khaki figures, each equipped with a small -shining disc fastened on to his back. On they run, and swarm up the -redoubt like packs of hounds, and strangely—though perhaps I am too far -away—I see none fall. - -The scene has passed: I have seen a gallant charge, made in the old -style. In five minutes it is over and become glorious history. The -bombardment continues, and the scene goes back to one of bursting -flame, yellow, green, white, and black smoke drifting away in the -strong breeze to the sea. The 60-pounders behind me steadily plunge -and recover as their charges are hurled forth on their destructive -journeys, with an ear-splitting roar. Suddenly over the din I hear a -familiar and fear-striking sound: it is the deep boom-_s-h-r-i-e-k_ of -“Asiatic Annie,” and her sister follows quickly after, and they are -endeavouring to get at the 60-pounders just behind and silence their -efforts. The 60-pounders take no heed, but go steadily on. They are -hard to hit, and are well dug in. I am directly in the line of fire, -and what missed them might get me, and so, after one shell bursts -damnably close, I abruptly slither down the slopes of the cliff into -the arms of two smelly Greeks, who have been sitting below me, shouting -now and again gleefully, “Turkey finished!” - -Our camp gets a bad shelling. Two passers-by are killed, and one of our -transport men is buried in his dugout, and when dug out is found dead. - - -_4.30 p.m._ - -Have been at work on supplies; the firing has died down somewhat. -Wounded are arriving, and the stretcher-bearers are nearly dropping -with fatigue and heat as they carry their heavy burdens along to the -dressing stations on the beach. Prisoners are arriving. I count a -hundred, all looking frightened out of their lives; I heard we had -captured four hundred prisoners, three lines of trenches, the Boomerang -Fort, one four-gun battery, and twelve Maxim guns. - - -_6 p.m._ - -We are again bombarding heavily, and I hear my Brigade is attacking, -but cannot see anything but smoke and dust. - - -_8 p.m._ - -It has now quietened down somewhat, but Asia is sending shells over to -the 60-pounder battery once more. - - -_June 29th._ - -Early I ride up to Brigade H.Q. I find they have moved forward. I -ride on past Pink Farm, to the little nullah beyond, and there find a -trench has been dug leading out from the end of the nullah which I am -told leads to Brigade H.Q. The trench, recently dug, is quite 8 feet -deep, and roomy enough for pack-mules to pass along and men in single -file to pass back in the opposite direction. All the time bullets were -pinging and hissing overhead. The trench finally ended in a junction -of several trenches leading in various directions to the firing-line. -Dug in the sides of this junction was our new Brigade H.Q., on the -level of the bottom of the trench, and taking advantage of a rise in -the ground in front, affording perfect cover, except from a direct -hit; on the left was Twelve Tree Wood, the scene of a bloody fight in -the early days, but now used for artillery forward observation posts. -Farmer, our Brigade Major, was very busy, looking ill and tired. -Orderlies and telegrams were constantly arriving. The Signal Office -was working at full steam—dot-dash, dot-dash, incessantly being rapped -out on the buzzers. When I see the signallers at work, the scene in a -London telegraph office always comes to my mind, and I contrast the -circumstances under which the respective operators work. Farmer is -continually being called to the telephone. Officers on similar errands -to mine are waiting. It is like being in a City office waiting for an -interview with one of the directors. - -Not very bright news came from the Royal Scots; they were badly -cut up yesterday, losing all officers, except Colonel Wilson and a -subaltern. Steel is dying; he was a great pal of mine, was very decent -to me before the landing, landing at the same time as myself. Captain -Tressider, who arrived a month ago, is dead. On our left, however, -complete victory for British arms. - -On coming back, part of the communication trench is rather exposed and -a sniper was busy after me, using all his five cartridges, but the -bullets sailed harmlessly overhead. But the risk we Supply Officers -take is not 100 per cent. of what infantry go through. A battery is -sending high explosive shells over from Achi now, but they are bursting -on the east side of this beach, and after firing a dozen shells they -only slightly wounded a goat. - - -_11.45 a.m._ - -I was sarcastic too soon. Asia has just fired over an 8-inch, and it -has passed over our “bivvy” with a horrible shriek and exploded in the -sea. They would not be able to do this if our Fleet were here, and so -we say “Strafe the submarines!” - - -_7 p.m._ - -All has been quiet on the front to-day, but two big guns from Asia -and one 18-pounder battery have been worrying the French, and our 4.7 -on the hill by De Tott’s Battery and the big French guns have been -replying. The effect of the Asiatic big gun, when it hits anybody, is -terrible. I picked up a jagged, flat piece of metal to-day, ¾ inch -thick, 9 inches long, and 3 inches wide. When these shells burst on our -beach, these pieces of metal fly in all directions, some reaching a -hundred and fifty yards away. - -The remainder of the Lowland Division is landing to-day. Just two more -Divisions, and I believe we should very soon take Achi Baba, providing -we had better supplies of big-gun ammunition. We put in two bathes -to-day. We are most fortunate in getting sea bathing, as it keeps -sickness down. We issue eggs now and again to the troops to endeavour -to keep down dysentery. All ranks get a chance of plenty of bathing, -sooner or later. Asia is very busy firing on the French batteries; -later, at dusk, they fire on hospital ships, but finding out their -mistake, desist. Evidently they are Turkish gunners, and not German. - - -_9.30 p.m._ - -A great gale has sprung up, and our canvas-sheet roof looks like coming -off. The dust is awful. Lightning is playing over the sky and makes a -very fine sight; curiously, there is no thunder. - - -_10 p.m._ - -The gale is terrific now, and I call out to our servants to come and -hang on to our canvas roof, which is anxious to sail away. After -strenuous effort, with dust choking us, and all of us swearing and then -laughing, we secure the roof and turn in. - - -_June 30th, 1 a.m._ - -A shriek and a loud explosion awaken us, and Carver says it is a high -explosive howitzer from Asia. It has passed over our “bivvy” and -exploded on the beach. The ordinary long-range shell seems to miss our -“bivvy” on account of the angle of trajectory. - -But when a howitzer fires the trajectory is such that it could easily -get our “bivvy.” - - -_2.30 a.m._ - -We are awakened by our roof blowing off, and up we have to get again -and fix it. The gale fortunately is dying down, although the wind is -pretty strong. - -When we awoke this morning we were told that they had put several -shells over in the night, and one in the Main Supply depot has -unfortunately killed a man. - -The result of the battle two days ago was good, the 29th Division -pushing forward about three-quarters of a mile, and Krithia should -soon be ours. The Turks counter-attacked last night in mass, but very -half-heartedly, and lost heavily. This morning four hundred Turks were -seen coming up in front of the French on our right, but the French -“75’s” got amongst them, and they ran and ran for quite a mile, with -the French shells bursting all amongst them, two a second. I should -say very few of those Turks were left. The 60-pounder on the cliff got -in a few as well. Three 60-pounders are out of action, waiting for new -springs from England, and they have been waiting a devil of a time. The -Turks are wonderful fighters on the defensive, with the geographical -advantage all in their favour, but absolutely lack dash in the attack. - - -_12 noon._ - -A French battleship is coming in with the usual escort of destroyers -and mine-sweepers, looking like a duck with her ducklings. Evidently -she is going to punish Asia. - -The smell of dead bodies and horses is attracting the unwelcome -attentions of vultures from Asia. They are evil-looking birds, with -ugly heads and enormous wings, and circle round and round overhead. -Sometimes Tommies pot at them with their rifles, but get into trouble -for doing so. - -The smell of dead bodies is at times almost unbearable in the trenches, -and chloride of lime is thrown over them. I know of no more sickly -smell than chloride of lime with the smell of a dead body blended in. - -In the fire-trenches the Turks will not allow our men to bury the dead -unless a special armistice is arranged. In consequence, in the dead of -night our men volunteer to creep out, tie a rope round a body which may -be too near them to make the atmosphere bearable, and then rush back, -haul the body in, and bury it in the trench, or they will soak the -body in petrol, go back to their trenches, then fire into the body—the -white-hot bullets soon setting the petrol on fire, and the bodies in -this dry climate quickly get cremated. - -Several barges were sunk by last night’s gale, and one pinnace set on -fire by last night’s shelling. - - -_3 p.m._ - -The French battleship is now firing on Asiatic batteries very heavily, -and it seems impossible that any one could live under her fire. - - -_5 p.m._ - -Asia starts firing light shrapnel over, which we don’t mind at all. As -long as they do not fire that heavy stuff, which is on you before you -can duck, they can pop away all night. - - -_5.30 p.m._ - -Asia firing heavy stuff on French lines. Now they have pitched one -bang into the hospital. I—thinking every minute one will pitch in our -depot—hurry up everybody, and they work with a will, taking cover when -the shriek comes. Now they fall on the beach and splinters fly around -us—it’s damnable! The corporal at 5.45 reports forage finished, which -is a relief, as we can get to our dugouts. - -On the way across to my dugout I hear the shriek coming, and there is -no place to take cover, and the suspense is a bit nerve-trying. With a -terrific bang it falls in the hospital, but the hospital is now clear -of men. - - -_6 p.m._ - -Safe in our dugout now, and one passes over us into the sea. Now they -are falling on the beach. Nearly everybody is under cover. - - -_7 p.m._ - -Shelling stopped, and we are allowed to have some rest. - -As Williams has to go to Brigade H.Q., I offer to show him the way, the -H.Q. having moved forwards. - -We start off at 8.30 p.m. and ride at a good smart trot, as we are -a bit nervy of Asia sending one of those horrible big shells over. -But all is quiet, and we arrive at our Brigade dumping-ground, -about three-quarters of a mile in front of Pink Farm. (Pink Farm is -practically razed to the ground now by shell fire.) - -We leave our horses with an orderly, who ties them up under cover and -takes cover himself. Stray bullets are flying over now and again, -and we get down into the nullah and go along it up the communication -trench. After about half a mile of it, we pass an R.A.M.C. orderly, who -says, “Keep your heads low, sir, as you pass that point,” pointing a -little farther along, “as there is a sniper watching there.” Of course -he is wrong, suffering from “wind up,” and what he thinks are snipers’ -bullets are “overs” passing through a gap in the side of the trench. -We hurry along, heads well down, as bullets are pretty free overhead. -After another half-mile we come to Headquarters. The Staff are just -finishing dinner in their dugout—beautifully made by the Engineers. The -Brigade Major is at the telephone, and later the General gets up and -talks over it. D.H.Q. are speaking at the other end, discussing some -G.S. point, just as if two business men were discussing the price of -some contract. - -After the General resumes his place at the head of the table, the -Brigade Major on his left-hand side, next the Signal Officer, on his -right hand, the Staff Captain, the Brigade Machine Gun Officer and -a Major of the R.N.D., who had recently arrived. Williams and I are -seated at the other end. The dugout is lit by an acetylene lamp, and -Miller, the Staff waiter and chef combined, is standing, acting butler. - -Outside the “ping-ping” of bullets goes on incessantly. - -Sitting there round the table, smoking and chatting, I could not but -compare the scene with that of the after-dinner coffee and cigars at -a dinner-party, when the ladies have gone to the drawing-room. The -conversation is also witty and bright, with no mention of war. - -Miller is a character of his own. He is as dignified as a real butler -would be, and yet a Tommy of the old school, through and through. -But instead of black cut-away coat and side whiskers, he wears khaki -trousers rather hanging over his ankles, and a grey shirt open in -the front—for the heat is excessive—and sleeves rolled up. He always -embarrasses me, for every time I happen to look his way he catches my -eye and beams benevolently on me. I suppose it is because I look after -the Tommies’ tummies. Lightning now begins to play about the sky, which -gets rather cloudy, and then “L” Battery, just to our right, barks -out suddenly. That arrests my thoughts and brings me back to reality. -“Y” Battery starts, and then the darling little Soixante-quinze, and -bullets begin to fairly hiss over. A hell of a shindy! Our mission -over, we rise to go. We salute the General, who says good-night, and -off down the trench, keeping our heads very low instinctively, though -really it is unnecessary. - -Lightning is now flashing all over the sky, and what with the flashes -and roar of the batteries near by and the pitch darkness that comes -immediately after a lightning flash, the walk back along that trench, -one whole mile of it, was most weird and Dante-esque. Now and again -bullets hit the bank on our left, but most of them are going over. We -pass troops coming up, and later see a man sitting down at the side -of the trench, and finding that he had been hit in the wrist (lucky -devil!), we take him along with us. Arriving at the nullah, we find -another man who has been hit at the dump, in the leg, and we send them -to the dressing station behind Pink Farm. - -We see the transport is all right at the Brigade dump, mount our -horses, which have been tied up in an awful tangle, making us use -some “’orrid language,” and then “forrard away.” Off we go back, with -“overs” pretty free around, and Turkish shells screaming over, well on -our right. - -The lightning frightens our horses somewhat, and blinds us after each -flash. It is incessant, and lights up the Peninsula in detail, but no -thunder follows. We hope that Asia will let us go home in safety. She -does, but half an hour after we arrive home, and when everybody except -night-workers and guards and pickets have turned in, heavy shells come -over, and at the rate of two an hour they continue all night, and so -our night’s rest is not as good as it might be. - - - - - JULY - - -_July 1st._ - -On duty at depot at 6 a.m. I find one shell has pitched in my Supply -dump during the night, leaving a jagged splinter a foot long, and 4 -inches in its widest part. Ugh! those naval shells. At eleven o’clock -shelling starts again, and we have it hot and strong for an hour and a -half. The transports get it as well from the hill, and one ship nearly -gets holed. Moon, one of the Signal Officers, riding up the beach has -his horse killed under him, and he himself is wounded in chest and leg. -Not seriously, but he looks pale and frightened. Very few casualties, -as people keep under cover pretty well. During the shelling, this -morning, one of the hospital marquees catches fire, but not through the -shelling, and is burnt to the ground. A Turkish prisoner had dropped -a smoking cigarette on some muslin. The marquee contained Turkish -wounded, but I think that they were all saved. Joy of joy! Allah be -praised! and glory be to God! a real plum cake and chocolate just -arrived from home. What joy to get your teeth into a slice! - - -_Evening._ - -Since noon the day has been quiet, and Asia has left us alone. Over -Imbros the golden sun is slowly setting, and above, the clouds are a -lovely orange red. A strong wind is blowing in from the sea, which is -very rough, necessitating the suspension of the landing of supplies and -ammunition. Casualties in Monday’s battle were 2,500, Australians and -New Zealanders included. These, at Anzac, engaged enemy while the 29th -Division attacked, in order to keep some of them away from us. They, -however, made no progress their side, and were not expected to. Their -casualties were 500. A Turkish officer who was captured said that if we -had pressed forward all along the line we should have taken the hill, -as reinforcements of one division that the Turks were expecting did not -arrive. They have since arrived. However, this may have been a yarn. -Last night was very quiet. - - -_July 2nd._ - -I go up to Brigade H.Q. before breakfast, leaving my mare in the nullah -in front of Pink Farm, where the Brigade Staff’s horses are stabled. -The General’s groom, now knowing my mare well, gives her breakfast, -good cool water from a well which has just been found there, oats -from the Argentine, and hay from Ireland. As I walk up the trench I -feel very limp and weak. Something is wrong with me. Half-way up the -trench, I see part of the parapet which has been knocked down by a -shell recently, and from there obtain a good view of our trenches and -Sphinx-like Achi Baba. She is almost human, and in my imagination -appears to be smiling at the vain efforts of our little, though never -contemptible, Army to conquer and subdue her. I shake such thoughts -off. I am run down, and in consequence imagine things worse than they -are. Arriving at Brigade H.Q., I find the General and Staff up in the -trenches, and talk to Brock, of the Gypy Army, the Staff Captain. -He tells me all about the Sudan—how he has two months’ leave and is -spending it on Gallipoli. What a place to spend a holiday! He reads -my thoughts, and says, “People in Egypt do not realize what things -are really like out here.” He then tells me that lately orderlies and -others have been disappearing in a curious way. A driver last night was -sent up the gully with two mules to fetch a watercart. Neither driver -nor mules returned. - -On the way back from Pink Farm I call on the R.N.D. armoured cars and -see a friend. Then to the beach. While issuing, shells burst on the -top of the high ground and back of the beach. Feel rotten, and so turn -in for a rest. Sea very rough, and we are unable to land stores, etc. -Rather cloudy day, cold and windy. - - -_7 p.m._ - -Sixty-pounders on our right start firing again on to the hill, and Asia -answers back with that 7·5-inch. Shells come screaming over to our -cliff, and we have to take cover again. - -Doctor has given me medicine, and I feel a bit better, but horribly -nervy and jumpy. - -Brigade coming back to-morrow. - -My complaint is only bilious attack, and when one is like that, shells -make one jump. Nearly everybody is getting jumpy, however, as we are -so exposed and get no peace day or night. Several men and officers are -being sent away for a rest. There is rumour that when the hill is taken -the 29th Division is going to be withdrawn for a complete rest. Things -will be much easier here when the hill is taken. At present it is -_awful_. Oh! for tons and tons of ammunition. Buck up! you workmen at -home. The army with the most guns and unlimited shells wins in modern -war. You should see the damage the dear little French “75’s” make, and -they pop off day and night. God knows what we should have done without -them. - - -_July 3rd._ - -Turks shell transport this morning, but no damage done. Feeling very -run down and seedy, and doctor orders me away to Alexandria for a rest, -but I do not think I shall go, as I should be fit in a day or so, if -only they would stop shelling on the beach; we could then get exercise. -Men fall ill day by day through having to continually lie in their -dugouts and then go out in hourly fear of “Asiatic Annie’s” shells. It -is much worse over in the French camp by Morto Bay. - -The doctor says I have to catch the 2.30 boat for Lemnos. I tell him -that I have decided not to go. He replies that in the Army you are -under two forms of discipline—one when on the Active List, and one when -on the Sick List; that I am on the Sick List, and that until an M.O. -certifies that I am fit for active service my O.C. will be an M.O., -whose orders I am bound to obey; that he has certified me as sick, for -the Army cannot have men on the Peninsula who feel faint when they walk -ten yards. This eases my conscience; I was beginning to feel like a man -who was getting “cold feet,” and I tell him so. He tells me that a sick -man always gets “cold feet” from shelling, and that it is due to his -being a sick man more than to the shells. - -So I proceed to catch the 2.30 boat. What are my honest feelings? -I do want to stay and stick it out, and yet I want to go. There, I -am quite honest about it—the two thoughts are equally blended. I go -down to the beach along the Red Cross Pier, on to a lighter bobbing -about in a rough sea, and then I wait. Sick officers and men dribble -down steadily, each with a label attached to his tunic; my label has -written on it “Syncopal attacks.” I look enviously at the labels on -which are inscribed different kinds of wounds. By comparison with their -inscriptions, mine reads like another title for “cold feet,” and I long -to get up and walk back up to the beach. - -We are towed away out to a little steamer called the _Whitby Abbey_, -in charge of a good fellow, a “pukkah” Naval Lieutenant. I sit on deck -and watch the land gradually get further and further away. Krithia -looks but a short walk from “W” Beach, yet it is well within the -Turkish lines. Never before did I realize what a little insignificant -bight of land do we hold on the Gallipoli Peninsula, and Achi Baba -looks impregnable. Tommies on board are telling each other how they -came by their respective wounds. A few Punjabis, wounded, sit apart -philosophically and say nothing. Officers in wardroom, mostly wounded, -have tea and chat shop. I, not wounded, and A.S.C., sit in a corner by -myself. - -We arrive at Lemnos about 8 p.m. and enter the harbour that I was in -last April. What a lot has happened since those days, and what ages -it seems ago! We go alongside a hospital ship, the _Sicilia_, and our -stretcher cases are taken off on to the ship. Have a look through -the port-hole and see a very big saloon full of beds and doctors, -orderlies and very smart and efficient nurses busily in attendance. -Then we go nearer into the shore and get on to a pinnace, and go to -a pier. Here three of us—namely Weatherall, Williams, of the Royal -Scots, and myself—get into an ambulance motor and are driven inland, -and arrive at the Australian hospital. Then we go into the orderly -tent, and a sergeant takes down our names, etc., and religion. -Religion! Let us talk of religion when all Huns are exterminated. Then -a pleasant-looking Australian Captain comes in, diagnoses my case, and -says “Milk diet,” which is entered in a book. - -We are then taken to another group of three marquees joined together, -full of wounded Tommies in bed. Then a Major Newlands, one of the -leading surgeons of Australia, comes in and sees me, and after a cup -of tea we go to sleep—at least, we are supposed to. Several of the -Australians are chatting, and it is interesting listening to them. -Suddenly one of the wounded stirs in his sleep and says “One, two, -three, four; one, two, three, four,” several times, and finishing by -“One, two, three, four,” and then a pause, and then “Five,” said with -a sigh of relief. He sits up in bed, and making the row that one makes -with one’s mouth when urging on a horse, he says, “Go on.” One of the -orderlies goes over and gently puts his head back on to the pillow. -He was fast asleep, and was going over in his dreams the taking up of -ammunition to the trenches. - - -_July 4th._ - -I and three other officers are in a ward with Tommies, for the hospital -is overflowing. Orderlies bring around basins of water to wash, and -then breakfast of bread and milk. Then the Major comes round and sounds -me pretty thoroughly, and orders me to stay in bed until further orders. - -Lunch: rice and milk. Very hot; nothing to smoke. Flies damnable, and I -find myself actually longing to get back to work on the Peninsula. But -I do certainly enjoy at present the relief of being away from shells -and bullets and the horrors of war. - - -_July 5th._ - -Awakened early by one of the wounded crying loudly for a doctor. The -poor chap had been hit in the leg by an explosive bullet and had a -pretty bad wound. He was in great agony, and amongst other things cried -out, “What a war; and this is what they do to me!” and then he made a -continual cluck with his mouth that one makes by putting one’s tongue -to the roof of one’s mouth and drawing it away when annoyed. - -During the morning he was pretty bad, and crying and groaning, but -became quite quiet, cheerful, and confident when the doctor arrived. -However, gangrene had set in, as he had been four days lying on the -battlefield before he was found, and he died suddenly at twelve -o’clock. A Tommy breaks the silence by saying, “Poor Alf ’as snuffed -it.” We were all very quiet for a bit, after they came in and neatly -rolled the body in a sheet, and, placing it on a stretcher, carried it -away. But after a bit a cheerful atmosphere comes over us, and we four -officers “ragged” round, the Tommies enjoying the fun. Why be morbid -about death? We’ve all got to go through it. I am allowed to get up at -two o’clock, and went and had tea on board the _Aragon_. This was the -ship that my original Brigade Staff came out on, with the Worcesters -and Hants. - -The old associations that I had with the _Aragon_, through so many -officers that I had become friendly with and who have now gone West, -depressed me somewhat, and I was glad to leave. At every turn I am -reminded of those days in April, and while walking along the upper deck -I could almost see the ghosts of those cheery men who marched round and -round of a morning to the music of popular airs played on a piano by a -gifted Tommy. - -I hear that “W” Beach was bombarded this morning. About five hundred -shells came over, the heaviest bombardment the beach had ever had. The -harbour and island have changed completely since I was here last; great -camps, French and English, have sprung up on shore, and the harbour is -full of French and English warships and transports and their attendant -small craft. - - -_July 6th._ - -It is funny hearing the bugles again, and looking round the camps, -one might be on one’s fourteen days’ annual training. I am very -rheumaticky, but getting fit fast, but am going to be sent to -Alexandria for a few days’ change. I hope to get back to the Peninsula -before the 29th Division go, for I hear they are going to be relieved -shortly, and I want to be with them at the end. - -The 38th Brigade of the 13th Division has arrived here, and the rest -of the Division is following. I think that is the Division which is -going to relieve us. It is curious, because I was in that Division as -Second-Lieutenant. - -At five o’clock the motor ambulance comes for us, and we go down to -the British Pier. They have made two piers, one for the French and one -for the British, and they are the centre and hum of life all day and -all night. Troops arriving, troops leaving for the Peninsula, wounded -arriving back from the Peninsula and wounded being sent off, after a -brief stay in the Mudros hospitals, back to the bases, either Cairo, -Alexandria, Malta, or England. - -And then, of course, stores and ammunition are continually being -unloaded and reloaded, and all nations seem to be engaged in the -work—black, brown, and white. It looks utter confusion, and yet I -suppose it is not. The French seem to be much better at system than the -British. - -I think the Australian Hospitals are better than the British. They have -first-class surgeons, and the orderlies are splendid. - -The Australians are a wonderful race, and the physique of the men is -splendid. Everything they do is done thoroughly. They lack discipline -as we know it, yet have a discipline that is not so common with us, -namely, a rotter and waster is not allowed to comfortably exist. They -are an exceptionally formidable weapon, for when they fight they go -on like wild men, never showing fear or attempting to go back. They -perform the most extraordinary and hair-raising deeds that history can -record, all the time to a flow of very sanguinary and strong language. -What a superb Army! Admirable spirit; pride in their race and country -and Mother Country. Cheery and merry all the time, having a very keen -sense of humour. - -As we came off in a pinnace, with lighters lashed on either side -conveying wounded, the 38th Brigade of the 13th Division, part of the -first of Kitchener’s New Army, were embarking on pinnaces and boats -towed behind to go on board destroyers to be taken to the Peninsula. -They were dressed in light drill khaki, with short knickers, putties, -and helmets, and their packs, blankets, and ground sheet strapped to -their backs, looking exceptionally smart and business-like. They are -very fine men, above the average of the British Regular Tommy, and -brigaded together appear to be troops of the high standard of our first -line. One of course could only judge by personal appearance and the -ordinary parade drill, which is as perfect as could be, but the near -future will prove whether they have the fighting power of troops like -the 29th Division. If so, then Britain has become the leading Military -Power in the world, as well as the leading Naval Power. - -We came alongside the hospital ship, the S.S. _Neuralia_, a fine boat -of the British India Line. Arriving on board, we were welcomed by a -nurse, and Wetherall, a Royal Scots officer, and myself were given a -cabin, and after a wash we go down to dinner. Imagine our feelings when -we were shown to a fine table daintily laid for dinner, waited on by -Singalese dressed in white, long-skirted coats, white trousers, and -curious wide-brimmed hats decorated with blue. Go to bed very early, -but cannot sleep much. - - -_July 7th._ - -Got up just before 6 a.m. and found that the ship had weighed anchor. -It is a beautiful morning, and the sea and green hills of Lemnos -look very fresh. We pass slowly through the Fleet, which looks very -formidable, yet which at present is unable to help us on our way. So -out of the harbour to sea. - -The past seems now like a horrid dream, as one lives idly on board in -every luxury that one could have. - -At times I feel a shirker, yet when a medical officer sends one off -the Peninsula his orders take precedence of an order of one’s superior -officer on the Active List, and once you have left you are passed on -from doctor to doctor and clearing station to hospital, and one’s -future remains in the Medical Authorities’ hands. - -Personally I am feeling much better, the fainting feeling having left, -and the rheumatism nearly so. But war is so horrible that I wish it was -all over. I’ve seen more of the horrible side than some of those in -the fire-trenches, who sit comparatively safely there until the attack -(this only applies to the unique situation in Gallipoli), and then with -one objective in mind, namely to get another trench in front, they leap -out and charge. - -Most of them say the feeling is exhilarating and glorious, and those -of the slightly wounded say they felt, when wounded while running on -cheering, as if some one suddenly hit them with a hot stick. However, -the risk I have run is not nearly so great as infantry run; but in -future give me gunnery every time, they having the most thrilling and -interesting work to do of any branch of the Service. However, let us -hope our future will not hold war and its horrors in store for us. - - -_July 8th._ - -This is an ideal ship for a hospital ship, luxuriously fitted with -cabins and saloons. The ship is painted white, with a red band running -all round and a large red cross in the centre on either side. At -night a large red cross of electric globes is illuminated, and the -great ship, lit up, makes a pretty sight. We had a burial yesterday, -stopping, and a great hush falling over the vessel as the body was -shot over the side and fell with a big thump and splash into the sea, -resting on the surface a few seconds and then slowly sinking. I thought -of the words of Prince Henry in “Henry IV,” Part I: “Food for worms, -brave Percy,” but the word “fishes” should be substituted for “worms.” - -A great number of wounded men sleep on deck, and, by Jove! they do look -glad that they are out of it for a bit, although they want to get back -after a change—some of them. - -All the nurses are dears, dead keen on their job. I am not wounded, so -I don’t like talking to them. - -The badly wounded officers are in beds in a large saloon, and one can -look over a balustrade and see them. They are patient, and they stick -the monotony admirably. - -One fine chap, a Captain, has a lump of flesh torn from his back by -a bomb, and has to lie in one position. As I pass along the gallery -overlooking the ward at all hours of the day I can see him, either -calmly looking at the roof, reading or dozing, and always in the same -position, in which he will have to lie for weeks. Bombs make terrible -wounds. My friend Cox, of the Essex, is on board. He was the officer -that I saw limping back after the battle on the Wednesday after we had -landed, and we have some chats together about those thrilling days. He -and his officers were on the _Dongola_, from which boat we landed, and -I have mentioned how they played “The Priest of the Parish.” I never -want to play that game again. A good percentage of those chaps have -gone now. There are only two officers in the Essex who have not been -hit. - -Cox has been back to the Peninsula once, but is now going to -Alexandria, sick. I am nearly fit, but bored stiff, and want to get -back to my job. The sea is calm and it is a lovely day, and awfully -peaceful and quiet on the ship. - -The stewards are very attentive; they are natives, as are also most of -the crew. I always think that the nigger makes a better servant than -the white man. Colonel Bruce, of the Gurkhas, is on board wounded, -and has his servant with him. A ravine up the gully that he captured -is now called Bruce’s Ravine. This servant at the hospital in Lemnos -was allowed to sleep on the floor beside his master’s bed, and if his -master stirred in his sleep, he sat up watching him intently. - -We all had to go before the Medical Board this morning, a R.A.M.C. -General at the head. - -We had another burial to-day. - - -_July 9th._ - -We arrive at Alexandria at 6 a.m. and berth alongside about twelve. -It is strange seeing the old familiar scenes again. At one o’clock a -hospital train comes alongside, with all the carriages painted white -with a Red Crescent on, not the Red Cross. Curious that our R.A.M.C. -should use both the Red Cross and the Red Crescent! The Australian sick -and wounded are taken off and sent on board this train, which leaves at -three o’clock for Cairo. - -At eight o’clock we go off in ambulance motor-wagons and are taken -off to the German Hospital. It is a very fine hospital, now of course -British, and we are put to bed and given cocoa. - -One of the officers of our party is suffering from a nervous breakdown, -and a brother-officer of his, an awfully decent chap, who had been -wounded in the arm, takes charge of him just as one would a frightened -child. In the motor-ambulance the nervous broken officer put out his -hand quickly and made as if to rise, and the wounded officer with his -unwounded arm linked the other arm in his with a reassuring look. I -think little touches like that are very fine. In the hospital one -officer is completely off his head, and has to have an orderly in -attendance all day and all night. Last night he shouted out in great -fear once or twice, imagining shells and Turks. - - -_July 10th._ - -It is now 9.30, and I have bathed and shaved and had breakfast, and am -in bed awaiting the doctor. - -They are wheeling bad cases to the dressing-rooms. A hospital is most -depressing. - -Went out in the afternoon and did some shopping. - - -_July 11th._ - -Very nice day. An Arab procession passes outside our hospital, headed -by a band making a most infernal din. All blowing brass instruments -as loudly as they can and beating drums, and all marching anyhow. -Difficult at first to make out what the tune is, as it is such a -discord, but on listening intently we made it out to be Sousa’s “Stars -and Stripes.” - -Procession consists of a whole convoy of wagons loaded with what looks -like “Manchester goods.” What it is all about no one but the Arabs -appears to know. - -Found out afterwards they were going to a fair and they were taking -goods along to sell. Went out in afternoon and called at Club. Saw -Chief Padre of the Forces, Horden, and had a long chat with him. - -Later saw Shuter, Captain of the H.A.C. “A” Battery. Curious running -across him. - -Called on Mrs. Carver at Ramleh for tea, and found several convalescent -officers there and a few other people. - -Lovely house and garden and hard tennis court. But give me an English -garden every time. - -Ramleh is very pretty, and is a very big suburb of Alexandria, -stretching along by the sea. Very fine white mansions standing in -lovely grounds. Also several lovely public gardens, beautifully laid -out. Much more picturesque than the English public gardens. They have -no railings or walls around, and consequently no entrance by gates; -they simply join on and run into the neighbouring suburbs. - -Passed a very fine Arab cemetery, full of magnificent mausoleums of -marble which must have cost thousands. - - -_July 12th._ - -Went out in afternoon into town. Plenty of troops about. Feel fit, and -so applied to go back to Peninsula, as the atmosphere in Alexandria is -not unlike the feeling of being in khaki in London with all your pals -at the front. - - -_July 14th._ - -Went before Registrar at twelve, and sent into convalescence. To report -to-morrow morning. - - -_July 15th._ - -Left hospital. - -Go down to the docks. Alexandria is a wonderful place now. Always one -of the most cosmopolitan cities of the East, she has now added the -responsibilities of a military base. Here, from her teeming docks, are -fed the troops in Gallipoli and Mesopotamia—and here may be seen at all -hours of the day and night great ships being loaded by chattering and -chanting natives with food and munitions. Troopships also, swallowing -up men or moving slowly out into the harbour; tugs, lighters, colliers, -and the like, throng her watergates, and the quays present a vivid -picture of bright colours, as the gaily dressed natives go about their -work. Fussy trains puff alongside the ships and disgorge men, mules, -and horses, in never-ending streams. Mountains of hay, bully beef, and -biscuits are stacked along the quays, and the rattle of gear and the -groaning of the great cranes fill the air with strange sounds. And -above it all, the fierce sun glares down on the hot stones, and the -pitiless, steely-blue Egyptian sky, inscrutable and cloudless, spreads -overhead like a vast dome. - -Leaving this hive of industry, I turn my steps to the Regina Palace -Hotel, where I am introduced to an Italian family by Cox. Awfully jolly -girls. Have some dancing. Meet Neville, of South Wales Borderers, a -friend of mine in Birmingham. - -Go for motor drive into the desert with Gregory. - - -_July 20th._ - -Went out in the evening with Prince Adil in his yacht, Henderson and -our French friend. The Prince provided food, consisting of cold dishes, -cocktails in a Thermos flask, and whiskies and sodas. - -It was delightful cruising about the harbour in moonlight and skimming -along the water, heeling right over when we ran before the wind. - - -_July 21st._ - -Ordered to join _Seeang-Bee_, a filthy little tramp, packed with -troops. Fortunately for us, they are full up, and so I am told to go on -board the _Anglo-Egyptian_, a cleaner boat. Find a draft of Gurkhas on -board and a draft of Sikhs. English officers; fine lot of men. About a -dozen officers all told on board. Sikhs a weird lot; now and again a -mysterious chant, sung by them, comes up from the lower decks. - -In the morning had quite a touching farewell at the hotel with all the -Italian girls, the French children, and my little friend the Russian -Cossack, aged five years, and their pretty French governess. I am -getting to speak French quite well now. - - -_July 22nd._ - -We were to start last night, but owing to submarine scare we have not -yet sailed. - - -_5 p.m._ - -The hospital ship _Sudan_ has just come in, and the hospital train, -ambulance-lorries, and motor-cars are drawn up waiting the wounded. -I have been on board and have spoken to one of the wounded officers, -who tells me that there have been two battles since I left, and that -we have made further advance, in the centre of our line, therefore -straightening it a little, but have lost very heavily. Also he told me -that the 29th Division are leaving Gallipoli, and that one Brigade is -at Lemnos or Tenedos. - - -_6.30 p.m._ - -We sail, the Gurkhas and Sikhs giving their respective war-cries, -something like that of the Maoris which the New Zealanders sing. - -Two other boats leave at the same time, the _Alaunia_ having 6,000 -troops on board. We all steer different courses on account of -submarines. - - -_9.30 p.m._ - -The last post sounds, played excellently by a Gurkha, and I turn in, -sleeping on deck on account of the heat. They are neat little men, -these Gurkhas, something like the Japanese, dressed in wide hats, -shirts overhanging the short breech, putties and black bandoliers; -bayonets in black cases, and their native weapon, the kukri, in a black -case. - -Curiously enough, they are not British subjects at all. They are -natives of Nepal, governed by the Maharajah of Nepal, and he is quite -independent, except for having to pay a salt tax to China. I believe, -though, that this payment has now stopped, or is about to stop. The -Maharajah lends his male subjects who enlist to the British Government, -and they train them as soldiers, in return having them to fight our -battles when necessary. - -Altogether there are about twenty battalions of 20,000 men, and since -the outbreak of war the Maharajah has practically forced every -able-bodied man to enlist. They are good soldiers, but absolutely lost -without their white officers, for they are just like children. - - -_July 23rd, 9.30 a.m._ - -Sea rough and ship rolling. Ugh! I do feel ill. - - -_10.30 a.m._ - -Four blasts on the hooter call us all to boat drill, with life-belts. - - -_July 24th, 8 a.m._ - -We are passing Rhodes on our starboard, and are, therefore, entering -the danger zone for submarines. It is reported that there are two -about. No destroyer to escort us, so I suppose we are safe. - -Feel much better now. - -Captain Koebel, of the Queen’s, on board; friend of Parnell. Since -outbreak of war he has been with Egyptian Army, now going unattached to -Gallipoli for his two months’ leave. Taking his holiday by going into -battle. - - -_7.30 p.m._ - -Had boat drill to-day. Gurkhas thoroughly enjoying it. Gurkha guards -posted all round the ship on lookout for submarines, with orders to -fire when one comes in sight. They are watching intently, and I really -believe would rather appreciate the fun if one came along, so that they -could show off their marksmanship. We do not arrive at Lemnos till five -to-morrow afternoon, so we have still plenty of time to be torpedoed. -Passing plenty of islands, but not a sign of a ship anywhere. Beautiful -moonlight evening. Skipper playing chess with Captain Simpson of the -Gurkhas. Other officers sitting about reading. Only fifteen officers -all told—white officers of the Gurkhas and Sikhs, and a few unattached. - - -_July 25th._ - -Three months ago to-day the landing, and Achi Baba is not taken yet. - - -_2 p.m._ - -Entering Lemnos Harbour. - -It is very hot now, and the water dead calm. The harbour is full of -transports and warships, and on shore there are large camps in all -directions. - - -_July 26th._ - -We are now moored alongside the _Seeang-Bee_, which arrived almost -simultaneously with us. She has 950 troops on board, drafts, and others -returning to duty. No news from Gallipoli, except that things there are -much as usual. After August, I hear, the weather breaks up, so that -if something is not done in August, we shall have great difficulty in -landing supplies and ammunition. The outlook is far from bright. Up to -date the points are with the Turk. - -An officious M.L.O. comes on board, and tells each of us in as -imperious a way as possible our respective destinations. - -I get on to the _Seeang-Bee_, and hang about waiting. I find Morris on -board, who was at the Regina Palace Hotel with me. - -At six o’clock the M.L.O. comes on board again, and after arranging for -our departure, casually mentions that he had heard that “W” Beach was -heavily shelled last night. He almost licked his lips as he spoke. He -had never even heard a gun fired himself. An R.N.D. officer tells me -that he has a great desire to chuck the M.L.O. overboard. This officer -is quite an interesting person; went to France in the early part of the -war in the R.F.C., had a spill which laid him up for six months, and -now is in charge of a Machine Gun Section in the R.N.D. - -We get on board a small steamer, _Whitby Abbey_, and sail over to -the _Aragon_, the L. of C. Headquarters boat. A very nice boat, the -_Aragon_, fitted out with every luxury. - -At eight we push off, loaded to the boat’s limit with troops, mailbags, -watercarts, sand-bags, and ammunition. - -We pass through the host of transports and warships that now crowd the -harbour of Mudros. As we pass each warship the sailors come running to -the sides and cheer and cheer. Shouts of “Are we downhearted?” etc., -freely pass between us, and this inspiring demonstration is repeated -enthusiastically as we pass each great ship of war. It is very nice of -them. I think they feel it a bit, being bottled up at Mudros. But it is -all right; we shall win, even if the war lasts ten years. Stick at your -training, you British Boy Scouts! - -We leave the hills of Lemnos, as we did on that memorable evening of -April 24th, three months ago, just as it is getting dusk, the sun -quickly setting in the sea. A full moon rises, and on a calm sea we -steam north. - -They provide some food for us on board, bully beef and bread, and later -we lie about and try to sleep. - -A very nice R.N.R. officer on board stands me a drink. - -Curiously enough, I came away from the Peninsula on this boat on July -3rd, and the same man stood me a drink, though he had forgotten. I -suppose he regularly stands a drink to all officers coming and going. - -At twelve midnight he is called up on deck, and I go too and find that -land is showing dimly in front. Dark, depressing, mysterious land of -adventure, heroism, and death, and a chill feeling runs through me. -It is the reaction after having a good time in Alexandria, playing -soldiers with the little Italian boys and my little cropped-haired -Russian Cossack and their pretty French governess. Oh, that little -French governess! - -The officers and men crowd to the upper deck and bows, and strain -their eyes to the black outline in front. The starlights are sailing -up and down in the dark background, from the Ægean to the Straits. A -distant shriek is heard, followed immediately by another, and two quick -flashes burst over the beach in front, followed by two sharp reports, -“c-r-r-u-m-p,” and the young R.N.A.S. officers, who have been training -for months, at last are within short measurement of the real game of -modern warfare. - -Then the land in front resumes its still mysterious outline, until, as -we get close, quiet figures can be seen moving about on shore working -at the unloading of lighters. - -We drop anchor and are informed that we shall disembark in the early -morning, and so lie down again and sleep soundly till morning. - - -_July 27th._ - -We wake at five and go on deck, and the old familiar sight of “W” Beach -greets me, and I point out, to several officers who ask me, the various -points of interest. At 6.20 the R.N.A.S. people are informed that they -have to go back to Mudros, as they have come to the wrong place, and at -seven o’clock, with Captains Nye and Koebel and Wilson, we go ashore in -a wobbly lighter, which seems about to turn over in a rather rough sea, -and we come alongside one of the piers. - -“W” Beach had altered somewhat. Large cemented water reservoirs had -been made by the Gypy Works Department on the high land near our -“bivvy,” and it seems more congested and crowded than ever. - -I take the officers up to our “bivvy” and surprise the others, who did -not expect me, and I feel quite pleased to get back—the same feeling -one has when one gets home to the family after a few weeks’ holiday. -We have breakfast, and I hear that the 13th Division are on the shore, -and that several of the officers of the 13th Divisional Train are just -along the cliff, and so go along to see them. I found Frank Edey there, -a friend of many years’ standing, and this was the third time during -the war that we had run across each other unexpectedly. I was three -months with the 13th Division at Bulford, so it was nice seeing them -again. They are leaving soon for some unknown destination, further up -the coast. - -I find that “W” Beach has been heavily shelled on the 5th July, seven -hundred coming over in four hours. They are mostly high explosive -shells, and make a nasty mess of any victim which they find. To people -working in the various administrative departments, where they are -continually walking about in the open, the continual exposure to high -explosive shell fire is wearing on the nerves, and cases of nervous -breakdown here are becoming more and more frequent. In spite of the -most heavy shelling, the administrative work has to go on, and at high -speed too. - -I hear bad news about my old mare. She was killed by a shell while I -was away, on July 5th. She had been an awfully good pal to me, and we -had some good times together, and I think that her name should be put -in the Roll of Honour. - -Warham, the servant of Storey, of the 13th Division Train, was blown up -by a shell yesterday in his dugout along the cliff. He was a good chap, -and for a short time had been my servant at Bulford. - -There has been but little shelling our way to-day—in fact, everything -seems extraordinarily quiet. - -At 6 p.m. we go down to the breakwater to bathe, and I find Frank -Edey there, and other Bulford pals. And then, wonder of wonders, whom -should I run into but my friend of many years, the versatile Gordon -Findlay-Smith. The last time that I saw him was in Piccadilly Circus on -December 22nd, while motoring. We looked at each other in amazement, -and then burst out laughing. He has been here ten days, and is in a -beastly place which is shelled every day, namely the Ordnance depot. - - -_8 p.m._ - -The night falls quicker now, but with the same lovely colouring, and a -full moon is shining. - - -_July 28th._ - -See my friends of the 13th Division this morning. At twelve noon high -explosive shells come over our camp and kill six fine horses. - - -_4 p.m._ - -On duty at Main Supply depot, and ugh! beastly high explosive shells -come over. One bursts in Ordnance depot and blows two men to bits. Very -glad when I am off duty, but I would rather be here than in Alexandria. - -My Brigade has been away at Lemnos resting, but comes back to-night. -Nothing much has been done since the battle of June 29th, which I saw, -except the French have straightened their line in accordance with our -move. - -Everything is very quiet; even the French “75’s” hardly fire a shot; -but something big is afoot. Three of our companies have their horse -lines dug in at the foot of the cliff in the lower road, half-way -between “W” Beach and the bakery, past the Greek camp; and the cliff, -which is higher than in most places, affords almost perfect protection -for the animals. Officers and men live there, but it is not a very -sanitary spot to live in, what with the manure and the flies and the -heat. Occasionally, to make the atmosphere more savoury, a dead horse -or mule is washed ashore, after having floated about for several days. - -Most of the animals which die or are killed are towed out to sea and -there sunk, either by the firing of bullets into the carcass or by -stones fastened to their legs. Many carcasses are, however, in spite -of all precautions, washed ashore, causing great unpleasantness to all -near who are living dug into the cliff-side. One such decaying carcass -this morning, lying on the water’s edge half submerged, aroused the ire -of a Staff Officer, who immediately strafed the officer living in the -cliff-side nearest to the place where it lay. He was politely told that -“The Navy are responsible for everything up to high-water mark,” and -of course could strafe no more. But the poor old Navy have their hands -pretty full, keeping the seas open for we on shore, and it is rather -hard lines on them to add to their heavy responsibilities the keeping -of the shores and beaches clear of washed-up carcasses of poor old -mules and horses who have died for their country. - -Now and again a dead mule or horse is buried on land, but we still, -after over three months’ effort, are holding such a small bit of land -that room is very scarce and a burial-ground for animals is out of the -question. - - -_July 29th._ - -A hot day, rather gusty and dusty, and of course not a cloud in the sky. - -My Brigade is back from Lemnos, and is along the cliffs of the West -Coast with H.Q. at the mouth of the gully or the now famous nullah. -West Coast cliffs now absolutely honeycombed with dugouts, arranged in -terraces as far as possible. The whole tip of the Peninsula is alive -and teeming with troops and followers of all nationalities—British, -French, Senegalese, Greeks, Arabs, Sudanese, Hindus, Gurkhas, Punjabis, -and Sikhs. - -13th Division now moving off the Peninsula. - -Poor old Findlay up to his eyes in ordnance; fortunately he was away -when shell burst in his compound yesterday. He says, “Gott strafe the -Kaiser!” from morning to night. - -Only half a dozen high explosive shells come over our way to-day, but -inland Turkish artillery has been fairly active, but nothing much doing -on the front. Aeroplanes busily humming overhead. Beaches very busy, -with all kinds and manner of work day and night. - -Meet Fulford, pal of Birmingham hockey days, a few years ago, and -again of Salisbury Plain days of 1914, now a chaplain in the 40th -Brigade, 13th Division. Having tea with him to-morrow. He tapped me on -the shoulder on “W” Beach, saying, “Thanks very much for the gloves, -Gillam.” I borrowed a pair of gloves from him on November 14th, had -lost them, had sent him another pair, and he had forgotten to write and -thank me. I had not seen or heard from him until to-day. - -Observation balloon up, captive to a steamer off the Gully Beach, but -little or no artillery firing on our part. - -13th Division of Kitchener’s Army have had their baptism, but in -defence, not attack; Turks had a taste of what Kitchener’s Army is like. - -I believe in after-years the name of Kitchener will be wreathed in a -blaze of glory that will dim the lustre of all other famous names in -our history. Not only will we beat the enemy with the splendid troops -his genius has created, but if his spirit still endures in the nation -after the war, we shall defy the world for all time, and in that way -form an impregnable barrier to the mad ambitions of other States. - - -_July 30th._ - -Ride my new horse to-day along to the gully (nullah) and see -Brigadier-General Cayley. Awfully pretty at the gully, with cliffs -honeycombed with H.Q. and terraces leading to them. Brigade now almost -up to full strength again, and Tommies enjoying bathing and domestic -duties. Tommy is a most lovable animal sometimes. Met Panton, who -is now D.A.D.M.S. to Division. He was wounded in the leg in May, but -is now quite fit. Talked of those early days. Also see Fulford again. -Come along top road on cliff with Major O’Hara and Major Collier as far -as “X” Beach, when we ride down and finish the ride back to “W” Beach -walking along the lower road, for much traffic was passing and going. -Heavy shelling on “W” Beach from high explosive gun on Achi, but most -burst into the sea. Plenty of fire to-day. - -[Illustration: COAST LINE, CAPE HELLES.] - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE GULLY, CAPE HELLES, LOOKING TOWARDS THE -ENEMY LINES.] - -I think the 13th Division are going to attempt a landing up the coast -soon, but news is very scarce. Whatever is on is being kept very -secret. Hear that about five enemy submarines have been caught out here -in nets stretched between two drifters, and blown up on contact. Only a -rumour though. The Navy keep very “mum” about these things. I think one -submarine has actually been brought into Malta. - -Aeroplane falls into the sea; pilot and observer safe, and both picked -up. It glided down beautifully. - -I learn that a French ship was torpedoed while I was away, but none of -the crew was drowned, and ship was empty of supplies. - -Findlay-Smith came to dinner. Awfully amusing hearing him grousing -about the shelling, just as he used to grouse in the old days about -such a thing as a train being held up between Clapham Junction and -Waterloo. It is topping dining in our “bivvy” listening to the gentle -wash of the waves, and after dinner enjoying the view of the sun -setting behind Imbros, while we smoke and have coffee. Guns from Asia -seem to have been silenced. Cannot see any signs of life on the plain -of Troy, which looks pretty peaceful meadow land! Can see it in detail -from here. They must have observing stations there, and see all that we -are doing, and hence the shelling of “W” Beach. - -Farmer, Neave, and Balfour, of the 88th Brigade Staff, have been sent -home invalided. Hear that there is to be a new landing further up, but -when, I don’t quite know, and that this time we shall land quite six -Divisions. I predicted in the early days that 250,000 men would be -found necessary to make this job a success; and troops which have come -and gone, and are coming, nearly reach this figure. It is surprising -what a little bit of land we are on, just as if it was a small corner -of the Isle of Wight. - -Fancy being able to take in at a glance our front lines and the Turkish -lines, Krithia, the West Coast, the Dardanelles, and Asia’s mountains, -and the formidable position of Achi Baba, with its supporting ridges on -either side. That is what we can do with the naked eye from the edge of -the cliffs on either side of “W” Beach. And over three months have now -passed since we landed. - - -_July 31st._ - -While issuing this morning at depot, high explosive shells come over -from Achi. They burst in different places, searching the beach. One -bursts near Way’s depot, and one man and two mules are hit, the man -badly. Next one on aerodrome. An interval of two or three minutes -passes between the arrival of each shell. - -Shortly after the one had burst near Way’s depot, I, standing with -issuers, drivers, G.S. wagons, A.T. carts, N.C.O.’s and ration parties -all around me, hear the shriek of one coming straight at me, for it -shrieks too long. Those who say that, if killed by a shell, one never -hears the shriek of the shell that hits one, are quite mistaken—that -is to say, when being shelled by one, two, or three guns at a time. -In a bombardment, of course, the din is so deafening that you can’t -tell which shell is addressed to you and which is not—and after a bit -you don’t much care. A deafening explosion and dense smoke, dust, and -stones, and I find myself locked in the arms of a transport driver with -my face buried in the stomach of a fat sergeant, and mules kicking all -round. Not a man hit, and the shell five yards away. The nearest I have -ever had. It had burst in a mound of soft earth and right deep in the -ground, and that saved us. I look up, and all the others get sheepishly -to their feet, and I get out another cigarette and smoke. I smoked -six of them hard, and tried to be facetious and to pretend that I did -not care, but not one man there could have been in a more miserable -cowardly funk than I was, while waiting for the next, which, however, -gave us a long miss. - -Later in the morning we got a few high explosive shells from Achi. One -pitched clean on the roof of our signal offices, which is a timbered -erection, sand-bagged, and proof against splinter only. There the -clerks work, tap-tap-tap and buz-buz-buz to and from all over the -Peninsula, messages being sent and received every minute, almost all -the day and night, like a central telegraph office in London. Down came -the shrieking thing: a deafening report; splinters of timber, torn -sand-bags, dust, stones, and smoke fly into the air, and then silence. -A pause, and men rush, not away, but to the ruined office. Nine men -and one Signal Officer have been killed outright. Several wounded are -carried up the cliff to the hospital. Operators immediately get to work -connecting up the severed wires to new instruments. Improvised tables -are put in position. In half an hour a wire is sent off to G.H.Q. that -all is “O.K.,” and tap-tap, buz-buz is heard once more, tapping and -buzzing busily away, not for a weekly wage, but—for the King. It was a -near thing for old Findlay in his office, twenty yards away. - -I rowed to a submarine this afternoon and went aboard. Delightful -sitting on deck and chatting to the Captain. He has just heard good -news from Persia, and we are all cheery. Go up to Brigade H.Q., Gully -Beach, and have tea, and chat to battalions in rest on cliff-sides. -While away, hear shells from Achi screeching overhead for “W” Beach, -and feel therefore quite safe. The Ordnance had it this afternoon. - - - - -AUGUST - - -_August 1st._ - -Artillery duels go on again to-day, and several high explosive shells -come over while I am on duty at the Main Supply depot. This afternoon I -am drawing forage for to-morrow’s issue to the Division. We draw men’s -rations for the same day’s issue at six o’clock in the morning, and -forage at four in the afternoon before. - -Greek labour loads the wagons with the oats, maize, and hay, which -carry the forage three hundred yards away to our depot of four dumps. -When shelling is on the gang of thirty to forty Greeks melts away, and -often, when at work checking each wagon, one finds when one looks round -but ten Greeks left. Then it is necessary to hunt round behind and in -amongst the large high and wide stacks of grain and hay, where the -missing Greeks are to be found quietly hiding here and there in twos -and threes. Some are very good at sticking to the work, more so the -boys (as young as fifteen) and the elderly men, some of whom are quite -benevolent-looking. - -This afternoon, one or two shells coming close to us, it was necessary -for me to stop work for fifteen minutes to make sure that no more were -coming, and to place the mules with their wagons behind the stacks -of hay, which afford perfect protection. I have never yet seen a -shell penetrate a wide stack of trusses of compressed hay. A pause—no -shells—and out we pop from our hiding-places like rabbits, and load -busily away once more. It is really funny. Like a game of hide and seek. - -Panton dines with us to-night, but I have to leave immediately after -dinner, for I am again on duty at the depot drawing extra supplies. -These are now being drawn nightly, to form a reserve depot in the -gully, but a little way up from Gully Beach, to be ready for us in case -we advance. - -As I walk across the high ground on the left of “W” Beach looking -towards Achi, I hear the booming of a Turkish gun, and instinctively I -know that the shell is addressed either to me or in my direction, and -accordingly fling myself to the ground in a manner to rival the best -stage fall. The usual sound of the sky being rent in two is followed by -a deafening explosion, and dust and stones fall on top of me. The smoke -blown my way makes me cough. - -I arrive at my depot; a man runs up and reports that the shell has hit -a dugout in which three of our supply loaders live. I send a man back -for Panton, and start to run across to the dugout. I hear the heavens -torn asunder again. I fall flat behind boxes. The beastly thing bursts -in the hay. I wonder if the farmers at home ever realized how we would -bless their compressed trusses of hay, as protection from shell fire. I -run to the dugout. Two men are lying dead. One man, wounded, is being -carried away by his comrades. Panton, who has arrived, takes their -identity discs. One cannot be recognized but for his identity disc. I -go over to depot and continue my job of seeing the wagons loaded. I go -to mount my horse. As I am about to put my foot in the stirrup I hear -again the boom of a gun. I feel jumpy and duck. I hear a laugh. It is -from a driver. It is dark and he can’t see who I am—or my blushes—for -the boom I heard was from a friendly heavy French gun over by Morto -Bay. I ride round the top road with Cooke, who is waiting for me behind -the dugout a little way up the West Coast. - -We speculate upon the reason why the advanced depot is being formed in -the gully. If the landing further up is successful, then the Turks are -bound to retire from before Achi, and the hill will at last be ours. At -last! We must therefore be prepared for an immediate advance. Hence the -advanced depot. - -We arrive at the gully, riding on to the beach down the winding road. -It is a beautiful starlight night. The gully and its slopes are -illuminated by a host of little lights from the dugouts of various H.Q. -signal stations, dressing stations, etc., all unseen by the enemy; but -from the sea they look like the lights of a small fishing town nestling -in the shelter of gorse-covered irregular cliffs. I call at Brigade -H.Q. and then at a dressing station, where some cheery R.A.M.C. fellows -give me a whisky and soda. Afterwards I accompany Cooke, who is in -charge of a convoy to fetch ammunition, up to Pink Farm. We ride up the -high road on to the high land, and after being stopped now and again by -the “’Alt, ’oo are you?” of a sentry, arrive at the ammunition depot -near Pink Farm, in Trafalgar Square. There we load up with ammunition, -which we cart along Artillery Road, meeting the gully half-way, dip -down, and, our loads disposed of, we ride back home, arriving there at -2 a.m. Cooke persuades me to stop at his dugout and have a “nightcap,” -which I do. - -He has built for himself a nice cosy room, dug in on the cliff-side. -Sitting there in the early hours of the morning, I am reminded of -that whisky and soda most men enjoy at 2 o’clock in the morning when -arriving home from a dance. He has made a dug-out stable for his horse, -and invites me to leave mine there for the night, to save me the fag -of taking him back to his lines, and to enable me to take the shortcut -back to the dugout, which is but a little way along the cliff towards -“W” Beach. I therefore tie up my horse, water him, and give him a -little hay, and go back along the cliff to bed. - - -_August 2nd._ - -I am up at 6 a.m. on duty at the depot, drawing men’s rations from the -main supply for to-day’s issue. I pass our lines and find my horse, -which I had left at Cooke’s stable last night, standing in his proper -place again. He had disagreed with my leaving him in a strange stable -and had found his way back to his own lines and into his proper place -by some means only known to horses. A horse is not such a fool as some -people imagine. - -On account of shelling, I have lately managed to get my issuing of -rations to units all finished by 9.30 a.m., and to-day, no sooner had -I finished than over the brutes came. There is a lot of artillery work -about to-day, and we have pushed a little in a very small part of our -centre, just to straighten a bulge in our line. Three cruisers have -been in action up off the coast above “Y” Beach, bombarding the Turkish -right part of line, and right over the Peninsula on to Asia. It is nice -to hear the sound of the guns of battleships again, but I do not think -that their guns do the damage against positions on land that I imagined -they would do before this campaign. The trajectory of their shells is -too low, especially considering the geographical formations on this -Peninsula, which provides good cover everywhere for the enemy. There -is great anticipation in the air about this coming landing, but nobody -knows when and where it is to take place. - - -_August 3rd._ - -Aviatik aeroplane comes over this morning and drops a few bombs. Later -in the day high explosive howitzer shells come over from Asia. Heavy -artillery duels now going on. Everything the same, but shelling a bit -heavier on “W” Beach. - -We hope each day that the great fight will come soon and end this show, -but each day seems the same as yesterday, and we can only anticipate -that to-morrow will be the same as to-day. - -Two officers buried in dugout at Supply depot by shell this morning. -Both rescued and carried off to hospital. Shells over all the time we -are issuing, and it is terribly trying, as there is absolutely no cover -for us, and we, of course, have to stick it. - -Our S.S.O., Major Shorto, just managed to get behind stack of hay in -time, out of the way of an “Asiatic Annie.” Two cruisers come up in -the afternoon and heavily shell left of Achi Baba with broadside after -broadside, and it is encouraging to hear their welcome boom. - -After dinner I ride over to Gully Beach with Cooke and Petro, via top -road. Not much fun riding by day now. - -Very quiet in front, but at 10 p.m. firing begins, and we can -distinctly hear the explosions of those terrible weapons—bombs. It dies -down after a while. - - -_August 4th._ - -Perfect, calm sea; hot day. The big gun at Achi Baba left us alone -while issuing this morning, but in its place a howitzer on Asiatic side -kept us alive and steadily dropped shells around us. Phew! I am glad -when that morning issuing is over, for every morning regularly now we -are shelled. - -Later in morning, she tried dropping them on edge of cliff, and reached -once or twice. Not much damage, and a howitzer gives plenty of warning. -But one cannot so easily gauge where their shells are going to drop as -with the other guns. - - -_2 o’clock._ - -Shelling by big guns from Achi has now started, and they are dropping -on the beach, and everybody is taking cover for dear life. Now howitzer -from Asia is joining in. Nothing much happened to-day, except heavy -artillery duels, and with the anniversary of the war we find ourselves -not much further forward than we were two months ago. - - -_August 5th._ - -Another hot, depressing, monotonous and nervy day. Was officer of -the day at the Supply depot, and, as usual, shells came over. A -fuse whizzed near our heads with a most weird singing noise. French -battleship at entrance bombarded Asia, and two British cruisers on West -Coast bombarded Achi. - -Something big is going to happen soon. I may add that this sentence -has been passed from mouth to mouth for the last week, and if that -something does not happen soon we shall all be in a devil of a fix on -this tiny little tip of the Peninsula. - -So dangerous has it now become to walk about in the open that a -communication trench has been dug from “X” Beach right to the -firing-line, and so troops landing on “W” Beach can walk round the road -at the foot of cliffs and straight up this trench to fire-trenches. -Most of the transport by day goes by this road, only venturing in the -open on high land by night. - -Our depot, however, still remains in the same place, exposed to -and ranged on by enemy’s guns, with the result that we get shelled -regularly every day, and the sigh of relief that will go up to heaven -when we have orders to move will echo from Asia to the Ægean. - -Ride up to Gully Beach with Cooke and Farquhar and see Brigade, and -after, ride up the gully and across to Pink Farm. Nothing doing on -front. We enjoy the ride and exercise. Devilish difficult getting a -decent ride nowadays. At Pink Farm, bullets as usual chanting their -pinging song. - -On the way back a Monitor up the coast starts firing heavily, making -a huge flash, lighting up for a big distance the sky and land, a roar -like a crash of thunder immediately following. - - -_August 6th._ - -On duty at 6 a.m. at Supply depot. Several shells come over at the -shipping, but none into our depot, shrieking overhead like lost spirits. - -Distant sounds of heavy bombardment going on up north, and one man said -that he saw through glasses shrapnel bursting up the coast ten miles -away. If so, a landing probably is being attempted at Suvla Bay. - -Ammunition ship with an evidently damned fool of a captain comes in -at two o’clock in broad daylight, and of course gets shelled. Pretty -good shooting on part of Mr. Turk, and ship gets several narrow shaves. -The vessel then backs out towards two hospital ships, and these of -course get nearly hit, one shell going right over one of them. The ship -finally gets away after being clumsily handled; but it is bad form to -back near a hospital ship. The hospital ships lie off here night and -day, well within range of the Turkish batteries, which never fire on -them unless a supply or ammunition ship goes near. - - -_2 o’clock._ - -A heavy bombardment on our part has started. We have again begun -to hammer at the doors of the Dardanelles. The sound is not unlike -thousands of men beating big drums, with thousands of trains running -through tunnels. The bombardment is heavier than anything previous, -and is concentrated on our left centre in front of Krithia. A few -French batteries are joining in, and all the British and two Monitors, -the _Raglan_ and the _Abercrombie_, and a light cruiser, with several -destroyers, open fire as well. - -The 14-inch guns of the Monitors make an ear-splitting row when they -fire, and the bursting shell throws up a column of smoke and dust quite -300 feet into the air. One was plumping them in and about Krithia, and -the other on the west ridge of Achi Baba. - -A field battery of the Turks opens fire on one of the Monitors just -off where we are sitting, and we are rather amused at their efforts; -yet imagine our surprise when one of their shells actually hits the -Monitor, the _Raglan_, without doing any more damage than denting her a -little, at least as far as we can see. We hear the sound of the shell -hitting her armour. - -An accident which might have proved serious occurs shortly after. The -Monitor fired one of her guns, and almost simultaneously the other -gun, which is depressed, fires, and the shell strikes the water, -then ricochets off on to Gully Beach, exploding, killing one man and -wounding six. - -The bombardment died down somewhat at four, and increased its range, -and then there burst out the undertone of rifle fire, sounding like -hundreds of carts rolling over cobbled stones, with the spasmodic -pop-pops of the machine guns. Later we catch glimpses of little khaki -figures charging towards Turkish trenches in front of Krithia. All this -time Krithia is getting fair hell from our guns. At six, firing dies -down to spasmodic gun and rifle fire. - -At the time of writing I hear that my Brigade, the 88th, have -distinguished themselves, especially the Essex, and that two lines of -trenches have been captured. - -At dusk the destroyers, Monitors and the cruisers have gone home, and -the aeroplanes to roost. - -During the fight I notice lots of shrapnel shells bursting behind -Anzac, so no doubt the Australians and New Zealanders are fighting as -well. And in the distance, though it is difficult to see, I saw several -white puffs of shrapnel bursting. - -It is now a cool evening, with a bit of a wind, and spasmodic firing is -going on inland. - -Saw Finlay in evening and then turned in. - - -_August 7th._ - -Up at six a.m. and ride out towards Brigade H.Q., but the Turks have -started to heavily bombard our lines, and we are replying, so I -postpone my visit, for Pink Farm and the Krithia road are getting it -badly. - -At 9 a.m., Monitors, destroyers, and cruisers come and join in the -bombardment, which continues all the morning. - -At 2 p.m. I ride up with Phillips to Pink Farm, and leaving our horses, -we walk up the communication trench to Brigade H.Q. Bullets very free -overhead, and we keep our heads low. R.M.L.I. going up to the trenches. -Some of them look quite young boys, and all look hot and tired and -serious. - -I find the Brigade have gone back to Gully Beach. We were badly cut up -in yesterday’s battle. Day and Black have gone, good pals of mine, both -killed. This is the most horrible side of war. They were so merry and -bright along the beach a few days ago. It seems that all the best go. - -Come back to Pink Farm, passing Jennings going up. Turkish attack -starts, and our artillery gets on to them, but they still come on -determinedly, and seem very cocksure of themselves. - -Ride over to Gully Beach and see remnants of the Brigade along cliffs -again. What a change to two days ago! Tommies cooking their meals, -talking over yesterday’s battle and pals that have been killed. I look -for Day and Black instinctively, but of course in vain. The beach looks -blank and depressing. Algy Wood is still there, however; wonderful man, -been through everything and not been hit, and thank God for it. Poor -old 88th! - -Come back to “W” Beach and find them shelling us, just to show us they -are still very much alive. - -Hear that another landing has taken place, and was successful, at Suvla -Bay. - -Artillery duels and rifle fire still continue. Destroyers make a dash -up Straits as far as just above De Tott’s Battery, and have a bit of a -duel with land batteries. Shrapnel playing all over them. - -I think fighting will go on steadily here now with no more delay, for -it is vital to the Allies that the Dardanelles be forced, and when they -are forced, good-bye to Turk, and Germany look out! We have got to get -all our own back—and more. - - -_8 p.m._ - -Very heavy rifle fire opens, and Turkish attack takes place. Just what -we want; they might just as well run their heads against a brick wall, -but no doubt they think that they will eventually break through our -line and round us up, or drive us into the sea. - - -_August 8th._ - -Rather a stormy day. Not much shelling on “W” Beach. - -One can see plainly through glasses where the new landing has taken -place; hospital ships, transports, destroyers, and three battleships -are off there. Rumour hath it that the landing was successful, and -that they are advancing across the Peninsula. Heavy firing goes on all -day from batteries on shore and warships on sea, answered but feebly -by Turkish batteries, which, however, do not fail to pay their usual -unwelcome attention to “W” Beach. - -A Turkish battleship, on the way down here to support land forces, was -sunk to-day by one of our submarines, which is a great event. - -Heavy artillery fire goes on to-night on our left. - - -_August 9th._ - -Usual shelling, and some nasty ones amongst them. - -Ride up the gully and have a good gallop on a new little horse with -Williams. - - -_Afternoon._ - -Can see new landing through glasses. Gorse there seems on fire. -Transports very busy going to and fro on horizon. - -Ride up the gully along the top road at night with Cooke, and have a -chat with a few Irish R.A.M.C. pals. - -Artillery duels on our front all day. Hear that in addition to Turkish -battleship being sunk, also Turkish gunboat and empty transport. -Submarine also opened fire on Turkish battalions marching on shore. Our -submarine commanders are “some” lads. - -Heavy firing from battleships goes on all night up north. Good rumours -come in from time to time that the new landing forces have captured the -hills in front of them and Anafarta, and are overlooking the Straits -the other side. If this is so, then this show will be over in a few -weeks. - - -_August 10th._ - -Very quiet on this front, but a little shelling as usual on to “W” -Beach. Went up the gully in the afternoon. Brigade still in rest there. -Shells come over to Gully Beach. - -Cruiser firing up coast again. Turks attack at 8 p.m., and again at -11.30 p.m. - - -_August 11th._ - -Slight intermittent shelling on beaches and roads from Turks all day. - - -_Afternoon._ - -French battleship _Saint-Louis_ takes up position off our part of the -coast, but before she fires, Turkish batteries open fire on her and -one shell hits her, and through glasses I see something catching fire -and men running. Fire extinguished. Battleship manœuvres for fresh -position, and having taken it up, fires with all her 6-inch guns on -west of Achi Baba. All the while heavy fighting is going on, on our -right, by French. - -New landing has now linked hands with Anzac, and is three and a half -miles inland. - -Our troops at the new landing are not moving as fast as was at -first expected, but reports are that Kitchener’s Army are fighting -magnificently. - -The Indian Brigade unfortunately had to give ground last night, but not -of much consequence. - -I semaphore a message from the beach to McArthur on a submarine, -and submarine smartly picks it up and acknowledges. It is from a -lady friend, from whom I have just received a letter, to a friend of -McArthur’s. - -On the way back a shell comes near; goes right through the roof of -D.A.Q.M.G.’s office as I was passing, and penetrates the earth wall on -far side while D.A.Q.M.G. is writing at his desk. It did not explode, -and he was most fortunately unhurt. Afterwards, he said that he dropped -his pencil with surprise. - - -_August 12th._ - -A fairly quiet day. Rode with Hyslop to the gully. Hardly any shelling -on “W” Beach, and what shells did come over were only “poop-squeaks,” -the majority not bursting. I suppose the Turks are taking the artillery -away from here to positions against our men at Suvla. Aeroplanes -buzzing about as usual this end, and one of the “E” type submarines -comes down from the Straits. But the Navy keeps things dark, and since -the last submarine stunt we have heard nothing. - -Destroyers off “W” coast find a target on west ridge of the hill. -Findlay-Smith comes to dinner. - - -_August 13th._ - -Very hot, and a calm sea. Not much shelling, but a few “poop-squeaks” -fall in Supply depot; one man wounded. Shelling seems to be dying away. - -Rode to the gully to Cregan. On duty at depot in the afternoon. - -Fighting last night in centre and again this morning. Noticed very big -explosions in Turkish trenches on their right, throwing earth and smoke -quite 300 feet. On inquiry found that they were our trench mortars at -work, throwing 100 lb. shells. That will shake things up a bit. - -Very quiet night. - - -_August 14th._ - -On duty at depot at 6 a.m. Very quiet, no shelling. Wonderfully quiet -altogether now: hardly a rifleshot. - -Rode up to the Gully Beach, and then rode out with Mathias to Pink Farm -and walked up the trench to Brigade H.Q. Hardly a shell, and only a -few bullets. What is happening? Anyway, it is nice for us, and it is a -relief to be able to ride about in safety. - -Found Way at H.Q., and also saw Thomson once more. Was very glad to see -him. Rode with Way back to the gully, passing old Butler asleep under a -tree. Told him that a shell would soon pitch on his “tummy”; to which -he replied, “It is all right: the Turks think I’m a mule.” - -Call on Munster Fusiliers beyond Gully Beach in dugouts on cliff, half -way to Shrapnel Point, and have tea with Geddes and Nightingale. We -passed General de Lisle superintending the building of a new pier off -Gully Beach. - -Have a nice canter home. After dinner a Turkish four-gun battery on -Asiatic side fires over a salvo of high explosives, followed by another -and another in quick succession. It was a surprise to us, but did not -last long, as our friends the Monitors got on to them, on which I -suppose they limbered up and bolted. I hope they will not do it in the -middle of the night. The shells burst in the Arabs’ camp beyond the -aerodrome, causing them to clear, making a row like a panic-stricken -poultry yard. - -No news from the north. - - -_10.30 p.m._ - -Turkish battery at Yen-i-Shehr again starts firing salvos, very -rapidly, and shells, four at a time, come over in succession. Shells -almost reach “W” Beach, and, anticipating their arrival near us, -Phillips and I curse, and have to get up and leave our tent and go -to dugout. Suddenly a great flash over the sky behind Rabbit Island -is noticed, and shortly afterwards a great bursting flame behind -Yen-i-Shehr. A very awe-inspiring sight. After quite a pause, there -follows a great peal of thunder—rumbling on—which ends with a great -crash. This happens once or twice, when the Turkish battery shuts up. - -It is the Monitor behind Rabbit Island firing its great gun. The whole -incident was like a few naughty boys throwing stones at a house, the -owner of which telephones to the police (the Monitor behind Rabbit -Island), who without delay take effective measures to stop the -nuisance. It was really nothing more than a nuisance, and gained no -military advantage for the Turk. - - -_August 15th._ - -A very windy day, almost a Gallipoli gale blowing down land, and in -consequence dust-storms start as usual. - -Two guns on Achi start firing towards our tents. Why? Lord knows, for -there is nothing here to fire at but our tents, and those can’t be seen -by them. They do no harm, but are a beastly nuisance, as we keep on -having to duck. The wind is so strong that we do not hear them coming -till they are right on to us. - -After lunch I ride along the top road with Carver, and dipping down on -to Gully Beach, ride up the gully a little way, and turn off to the -left into a ravine, where we leave our horses. Climbing up the cliffs, -we call at the mess of Major Gibbon’s battery, where tea is awaiting in -a delightful summer-house surrounded with rocks and shrubbery. Duff is -there, and Monro too. The battery is in position a few yards away in an -artfully hidden spot, never as yet having been discovered by the enemy. -Out to sea a small cruiser is in action, firing on a target on the -left of Achi Baba. A Turkish battery on the extreme right is in action -against her, recording a few hits, without causing much damage, but -making it necessary for the cruiser to manœuvre constantly for a fresh -position. - -Heavy firing occurs in the night, and the enemy strongly attack the -Anzacs, with no success. - - -_August 16th._ - -Having been invited to breakfast with the Hampshires, who are up the -line, I ride up to the nullah in front of Pink Farm and leave my horse -there, where he is given his breakfast. On arrival at the Brigade H.Q. -at the end of the long trench—or the mule-track, as we now call it—I -am given a guide of the Royal Scots, who, however, has difficulty in -finding the battalion H.Q. We wander about awhile before we reach our -destination, reminding me of an endeavour to thread a way through -Hampton Court maze. Up one long winding trench my guide puzzles me -somewhat by the remark, “‘B’ trench, sir, but not a bee-line.” At first -I am puzzled as to what he is driving at, but gradually it dawns on me -that he is cracking with difficulty an obtuse Scottish joke, occasioned -by the long winding walk up the trench, which I notice is called “B” -Communication Trench. - -Battalion H.Q. found at last. I have an excellent breakfast of hot -cocoa, sardines, bread and jam, and at the end of the meal I am taken -up to do a tour of the line. First we make a visit to the battalion -H.Q. of the Essex, where I see Algy Wood and Colonel Rice; then I am -shown the cookhouse of the Hampshires. Owing to a curiously small and -deep ravine, it has not been found necessary to dig trenches here. -Instead, communication trenches lead off from the small nullah, only -a hundred and fifty yards away from our front line, in five different -directions, like streets leading off from a circus. We pass up that -part of the communication trench leading to the line which the -Hampshires are holding. On arrival here I am greeted with a wave of -sickening odour, a blend of decaying bodies and chloride of lime. The -scene in the first-line trench is alive with interest; there officers -and men are on the alert. Every four yards men are standing on the -fire-steps looking out through periscopes, held in their hands or fixed -to rifles. Others are cleaning up the floors or sides of the trench, -as the parlour-maid would the room of a house. Others are improving -parapets, levelling the sides and floors of the trench. A few are still -at breakfast—one I noticed consisting of two fried eggs, a piece of -steak, bread and honey, and hot tea. - -I am taken up a sap by one of the officers on duty in the front line, -a cheery young man named Moore, who has recently won the V.C. At the -sap-head, looking through a periscope, I see not fifty yards away -in front a sap-head jutting out from a Turkish trench. Turning the -periscope round from left to right, I see a sight which fills me with -sorrow. I see lying in all postures—some alone, some in groups of three -to six—the dead bodies of brave British Tommies, who a fortnight ago -were alive and well, merry and bright, enjoying the bathing off Gully -Beach. They had lost their lives in the battle of August 6th, and had -never even had the satisfaction of reaching Turkish territory. After -the battle our positions in the “H” trenches (as this part of the line -is termed) remained unchanged from what they were before; but hundreds -of brave men had gone forth from there never to return, and I am afraid -few became prisoners. - -The end of the sap in which I am standing is protected from enemy bombs -by a roof of wire-netting. A drain pipe penetrates the earth at the end -of the sap, with its mouth filled by a rolled up empty sand-bag. For my -benefit this is taken out, and looking through, I see quite close to me -the corpse of one of our brave fellows, blackened by exposure. Efforts -will be made to recover some of these bodies as soon as opportunity -allows. Looking further ahead through the pipe, I have a good view of -the Turkish front line. A sentry is sitting beside the pipe, and at -intervals he removes the sand-bag from the mouth, carefully looking -out for any activity on the part of the Turk. I prefer to look through -a periscope, and take it up once more. Not being used to them, I -raise it too high, my arms appearing above the parapet. A thoughtful -Tommy alongside of me gently pulls my arms down behind the cover of -the sand-bags. The Turkish sniper is always on the lookout for the -careless, who expose themselves even a few inches, and is often clever -in getting a bull’s-eye at the first shot. However, one through the -arm would be luck. What could be better than the pleasure of lunching -at Ciro’s with an arm in a sling from a wound? I take a careful survey -of the Turkish line, running along a gentle rise in front of me, and -after a while, I notice a shovel lifted over the parapet and a spray -of earth thrown over, and this happens several times. A Turk at work, -probably improving his fire-step. - -As I go back into the front line, I notice that at intervals we have -fixed into the sand-bagged parapet iron plates, with little holes -punctured in them, protected by a small shield hanging on a hinge like -the shield to a keyhole. Through these holes, when necessary, our men -place their rifles, firing with good protection to themselves. I am -shown our catapults for throwing bombs, almost the same as the ancient -weapons of Rome. Also trench mortars, funny squat cannons with short, -wide, gaping mouths. Occasionally during the tour bullets come over. -They “zip” over up here, and “ping” with a long ring further back over -the roads behind our line. Now and again they strike our parapet, -sounding like the blow of a great brick thrown with a great force. The -trenches are full of flies, hot and stuffy, with ever that sickly smell -of the dead and chloride of lime, but fortunately quite dry and very -clean. And the men are merry and keen, and delighted to show round one -who seldom enters a trench and is ignorant of the life spent there. - - -_Evening._ - -It has been very quiet during the day, but a few shells came over to -“W” Beach; most of them did not explode. - - -_August 17th._ - -It is a wonderfully clear day and we can see the Asiatic side and the -plains of Troy in vivid detail. Some 6-inch shells come over from Asia -to “W” Beach this morning, and after lunch we receive a few more, one, -very close to our bivouac, falling into the sea and throwing up a large -waterspout. - - -_August 18th._ - -So far it has been a very quiet morning, not a single shell on the -beach. The other day one of our machines dropped bombs on a Turkish -transport in the Sea of Marmora, sinking her. One of our transports -on the way to Suvla has been sunk, and nearly a thousand lives lost. -Rumour now whispers that the Suvla Bay landing has not been as -successful as was at first thought. But we learn that many more troops -are being landed. We are still hoping for victory, which so far we have -not tasted. Dismal news reaches us from Suvla. A Naval officer just -returning from there informs us that we are digging in hard a line at -the foot of the hills, and that the Turks are also doing likewise. -Also, we must now face a winter campaign. No comment is necessary as -to our feelings. We are shelled a little at night, but are too tired -and bored to bother, and so go to sleep. I am still sleeping in a tent -with Phillips, and if a shell does hit us clean while we are asleep it -is of no consequence, for then we shan’t wake up the next morning with -another awful day before us to live. - - -_August 19th._ - -Before breakfast this morning I ride up the West Coast road, my mount -being fresh and lively, enjoying to the full the canter I give him up -to Artillery Road. The ride along that road beats so far any ride I -have ever had for enjoyment. The soft going, though it may be rather -dusty; the view—the sea on the left, Imbros shrouded at her feet by -blue-grey mist, the sound of the waves gently lapping the shore on the -road below; the view in front, of stately and formidable Achi Baba -and of the mountains of Asia, with now and again a glimpse of the -blue waters of the Dardanelles on the right. All is quiet; I might be -miles from war, and yet I am in the centre of war on a large scale, -concentrated in an area that would be lost on Salisbury Plain. To -obtain an idea of on how large a scale the war on this little tip of -land is, as far as fighting is concerned, one has only to compare our -casualties here up to now with those of the South African War. And now -we have Suvla Bay, where six Divisions are on shore. - -Passing the road leading down to Gully Beach, my horse shies badly as -two 60-pounders in action on the cliff overlooking the beach fire over -our heads. These 60-pounders have moved forward from their original -position on the cliff by the beach, much to our satisfaction, for they -were too near our bivouac, and a 60-pounder is a noisy toy. - -I ride down from Artillery Road, and turning to the right, ride up -the foot of the beautiful gully, now more honeycombed than ever with -dugouts and terraces and flights of steps. Leaving my horse at a -small camp near Bruce’s Ravine—named after the gallant Colonel of -the Gurkhas, who sailed on the same hospital ship in which I went to -Alexandria in July, because of the gallant and victorious fight the -Gurkhas made for the capture of Gurkha Bluff, in the early days—I walk -up this ravine, used as a mule-track, to the trenches up on the high -ground on the left of the gully, forming the extreme left of our line. -And after a short walk through a series of trenches forming our support -line, I turn down a communication trench, which after a while brings -me out on to a long and wide terrace overlooking “Y” Beach. “Y” Beach -was the scene of a terrible fight between the K.O.S.B.’s and the enemy -on April 25th, in which the K.O.S.B.’s were successful in effecting a -landing, only to evacuate a day after. But how they landed there at -all is a feat to be marvelled at, for the beach can hardly be called -a beach. It is a narrow ravine, widening slightly at the water’s edge -to a width of not more than a hundred yards, and flanked by steep, -almost precipitous gorse-covered slopes to a height of 150 feet. Troops -attempting to land on such a beach from small open boats could not be -expected to even reach the shore; yet by the night these Scotsmen had -conquered the heights and penetrated inshore. But their position was -too precarious, and it was a wise move to order them to evacuate. - -At the end of the terrace on the north side of the top of the ravine, -my Brigade H.Q. is comfortably dug in, and it is a pleasure sitting -there talking, with such a picturesque view to enjoy from the position. -It is far the prettiest site our Brigade has had up to now for their -Headquarters, and also convenient, for they are situated but a few -hundred yards behind the front line. - -As I am about to take my leave, four shrapnel shells come over from a -Turkish battery on our extreme left, which burst low on the opposite -slopes of the ravine, with the trenches of two regiments in reserve -for a target. They are followed steadily by several salvos, one or two -of the shells bursting in the air near our H.Q., and one in particular -throwing a few bullets onto the ground at my feet, as I stand at the -door of the General’s mess. The General invites me to step inside, -saying, “Unless you want to get shot,” and gives me a topping breakfast -of scrambled eggs on toast. - -After breakfast I go back with Mathias and Arnold to Gully Beach -and see 86th Brigade H.Q. and Sinclair Thomson, and then ride with -Arnold to “W” Beach. Mathias and Arnold came to lunch, as a parcel had -arrived, and we enjoyed the luxuries thereof. - -After lunch I receive orders to go with 88th Brigade and 86th Brigade -to the new landing. Way also under orders to go. So after nearly four -months of hanging on to this tip of the Peninsula the poor old 29th -Division is to leave and try its luck at the new landing, and Achi Baba -still remains impregnable. - -I look forward to the move with mixed feelings—relief at getting away -from this end, and new feelings at the prospect of being more heavily -shelled than we ever were here. - -However, perhaps the move may be a successful one, and the end of the -campaign in this area nearer than we think. - -At 9 p.m. I go down to “W” Beach and make inquiries. As usual, nobody -knows anything, and all is confusion. The piers are very congested with -the baggage being shipped on to lighters, which are then towed out -to trawlers. All such work, of course, has to be done after dark. At -twelve, after making exhaustive inquiries and with no result, Way and I -walk over to “V” Beach. - -At the fort on the left of “V” Beach, looking shorewards, we find that -a lot of Lancashire and Munster Fusiliers are taking shelter, as the -Turks had been shelling the beach. We lie down just outside the fort -on the stone floor and try to get some sleep. A perfect night, and as -I look up at the stars I wonder what it was like here a year ago, when -war had not devastated this land. - - -_August 20th._ - -At 1.30 a.m. we get up and go down to the _River Clyde_. The _River -Clyde_ is now supporting a very fine pier that the French have -constructed. The French are excellent people at organization. After -waiting some time, an M.L.O. tells me that the 88th are not going till -the following night, and so I say good-night to Way, who is going off -with the 86th, and proceed to walk back the mile and a half to “W” -Beach. - -I take the wrong turning, inquire the way of a French soldier, who puts -me wrong again, and I find myself in a perfect maze of French dugouts. -Once in the maze, I have an awful job to get out, and after stumbling -and falling about for some time, manage to find the road. Feeling very -tired, I stumble along in and out of the shell holes, it being very -dark, and at last I arrive at “W” Beach. - -I find Major Blackburn, Camp Commandant, still at work in his office in -a dugout on the side of the cliff, and he very kindly revives me with -a whisky. It is now 3.30 a.m., and after chatting with him, he giving -a most dismal and chilling outlook of Suvla Bay (20,000 casualties and -only just hanging on to the low land), I go back to the tent. Have no -bed, my kit having gone on. I lie down like a dog and sleep soundly -till five o’clock, when I am awakened by the cold. I go out to try to -get warm, and see the sun rise. The breath of the coming winter seems -to be in the air. Phew! In winter we shall be washed off by rain, not -driven off by the Turks. - -I sleep again, and then have breakfast with Phillips. Heavy artillery -duels all day and the Gully people get it badly—twelve men wounded. - -I rest during the day, as I shall be up all night again to-night. - -I wonder how many other people are keeping diaries on Gallipoli besides -me. It would be interesting for me to read them, for they must all be -told from far different points of view. - -The impression the Gallipoli campaign has on the minds of the men in -the trenches, by far the most important men in the machine of the -Dardanelles Army, must be widely foreign to the impression made on the -mind, for instance, of a lighterman. The man in the trenches, probably, -if he has been to France, and many here have, sees no great difference -from life in the trenches in the Ypres salient. - -The A.S.C. baker views life here through quite differently coloured -spectacles from the A.S.C. driver, the A.S.C. driver from the signal -operator, the officer in the observation balloon from the M.O. of a -regiment, the platoon commander from the M.L.O., the aviator to the -gunner officer, the commander of a submarine from the veterinary -officer; and yet each respective outlook on life, to each officer -or man, is one of far more vital and of greater importance than all -the views, opinions, thoughts, and actions of any of his comrades or -neighbours, of any newspaper, or public opinion. It is for him his -destiny. The carrying out of orders given to his particular self, -though of seemingly little importance in comparison to the working of -the large Army machine, is to him perhaps a matter of life or death. -Death or grievous wounds may prevent him carrying out an order; in that -event he will be excused, but while alive and effective, he must carry -out that order to the letter. - -The position that Destiny has placed him in, as part of the huge -machine, controls his thoughts, actions, character and outlook on life. -His daily work may bring him in a constant danger of sudden death, and -he naturally views his life from the point of view of the probability -of leaving it suddenly, and possibly in an awful manner. That constant -thought usually makes a man braver than we would expect, for his will -forces him to carry out to the letter his orders and rules his mind, -which is fully aware of the danger he incurs in doing so. As well as -making him braver, the thought decides his will to make the most -of the pleasures of life that may pass his way, and as a result he is -usually to be found of a cheery, optimistic nature, easily pleased and -hard to depress. For optimists, go to the front-line trenches—or the -Navy—and for pessimists, go to overworked administrative officers. - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE PROMONTORY, SUVLA BAY, TAKEN FROM 29TH -DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS. - -The animals are just hidden from the enemy by the dip in the ground, -while the high ground on the right of the picture is in full view of -the enemy.] - -If it were possible for all ranks, from O.C. to private, in an army -fighting in any certain campaign to keep an accurate diary of all they -do and see, then there could be published a perfectly true record of -the development and history of that campaign, so it is not possible, -and never will be, for the truth of all happenings in that campaign -to be known. And it never will be in any campaign. Hundreds of deeds, -gallant, tragic, cowardly, and foolish, occur which are never, and can -never be, recorded. When the daily Press, arm-chair critics in clubs, -etc., criticize any statesman or Army Staff, they are simply talking -hot air, for how is it possible for them to judge, when their source of -information is as unreliable as a “W” Beach rumour? So why waste words? -Much better go and do something useful, or shut up and go and hide. War -is like a big game. This war we must win—or we shall lose. - -If we lose, it is on too huge a scale to be through any man’s fault—it -will be Destiny. - -At 9.30 p.m. I walk over to “V” Beach again and find much more order -there than last night. Our Brigade is moving off systematically from -the pier alongside the _River Clyde_. I embark with the Essex on to a -small trawler. Algy Wood is with me. We are a merry party. We cast off -and steam out to a paddle-boat, which we come alongside, and make fast -to tranship. We are packed very closely together. The skipper makes -all the Tommies laugh by shouting through a megaphone, in a deep Naval -drawl, to a small tug in the offing, “Finished with you, Jessie!” and -off we steam north, for our unknown fate at Suvla Bay. - -A Tommy expresses his feelings by the remark, “I don’t know where I am -going to, but I shall be glad when I get there.” - -So shall I. I take a farewell glance at the _River Clyde_ and -Sed-el-Bahr, and express the prayer that I shall not see either again -during this war, and lie down on deck to sleep. - - -_August 21st._ - -I awake at 2 a.m. and find a blaze of lights on our starboard, and so -sleepy am I that for the life of me I cannot make out what is happening -or where I am. There seem to be thousands of little fairy lamps, -and at first I think that we are entering an English watering-place -alongside an illuminated pier. Coming to my senses, I find that we are -passing close to three hospital ships, which are always illuminated -at night, and entering a small bay. After a lot of manœuvring, we get -off into lighters and are towed for a mile, coming finally alongside -an improvised pier, where we disembark, thence on to a sandy beach, -where inquiries are made as to our future. I go off in search of a -Supply depot, but can only find one belonging to the 11th Division. The -Brigade move off inland to a place called Chocolate Hill, the other -side of a salt lake, and I lie down for an hour behind some hay. - -I awake at 5 a.m., get up and shake myself and wander about, -endeavouring to gain some information. I find Panton, with whom I go up -on to the high ground behind the beach. - -I learn that this is called “C” Beach. It is a small beach, flanked -on its north side by a high rocky promontory called Lala Baba, the -other side of which is Suvla Bay. Suvla Bay is in turn flanked on its -north side by a high rocky promontory, jutting nearly two miles from -the mainland into the sea. Where the bay washes the mainland, there -starts a salt lake, looking like a large flat, sandy plain, evidently -under water in the winter. In the background are high rocky hills, -covered with gorse, looking beautiful in the early morning sun. At the -foot, on the left and right of the Salt Lake, lies meadow land, with -occasional clusters of olive groves. The hills on the promontory to -the north of Suvla Bay continue in a range inland, curving round the -low land immediately in front of us, when to the right of where I am -standing they join and rise to a high peak called Sari Bair. Sari Bair, -which commands the right of our line—for I learn we are on the low -land—sweeps down to the Australians’ position at Anzac or Gaba Tepe. - -One or two smaller hills, from fifty to a hundred feet high, stand near -to us, rising out of the low meadow and wooded land. Some are in our -hands, and some are still Turkish. One hill in particular, lying at the -other end of the Salt Lake, inland from its centre, is called Chocolate -Hill, and I learn D.H.Q. are to be there to-night. I hear also that -there is to be a battle to-day. Many troops are landing, including a -whole Division of Yeomanry, amongst them the Warwicks, Worcesters, and -Gloucesters. - -I meet one of our D.H.Q. Staff, and he, with Panton, proceeds to -Chocolate Hill, while I continue to make inquiries as to where I am to -go. Nobody appears to know or to care, and so I go on to the top of -Lala Baba and have another look round. On the opposite side of the bay -I see the promontory alive with troops. In the centre of the bend of -the bay I see hospital tents pitched. Four battleships are at anchor -in the bay, together with a few transports and Supply ships. They are -shut in and protected from submarine attack from the outer sea by a -boom of submerged nets stretching between the ends of two flanking -promontories. Over the wooded low land now and again there begins to -burst Turkish shrapnel. Half-way up the promontory on the opposite side -of the bay I see stacks of Supply boxes. I go back to “C” Beach and -call at the depot to make further inquiries, and learn that the Supply -depot that I have seen on the other side of the bay is on “A” Beach, -and, as no orders have been received to feed the 29th from “C” Beach -depot, the “A” Beach depot must be my destination. - -As I stroll across “C” Beach I notice a damaged aeroplane, around which -men are clustering, inspecting it with curiosity. A Naval Lieutenant -comes up and clears them away, saying to me that if only a few men -collect together in a bunch they are very soon shelled by a Turkish -6-inch gun on Sari Bair, which commands the beach. - -I walk up to the back of the beach once more, and start for a tramp -round the bay to the Supply depot that I see in the distance. It is -to be a long tramp, and I feel a bit tired and devilish hungry. On -the other side of Lala Baba I pass 18-pounder batteries in position, -hidden from the enemy by little rises of the ground and screened from -aeroplane observation by gorse-bushes. Their position tells me that our -front line cannot be very far inland. Presumably the same thing has -happened that happened at Helles on April 25th. We have got on shore -all right, but that is all. The Turks hold all the prominent positions, -and appear to have us in the hollow of their hands. I walk along on the -sandy beach, very tiring for my feet, until I reach “B” Beach, which is -in the centre of the beach running between the two promontories of the -bay; there I come to a casualty clearing station of the Welsh Division. -I am dog-tired and almost faint from hunger, and call in, begging some -breakfast. They tell me breakfast is at eight, and make me lie down to -get an hour’s sleep, for it is seven o’clock. At eight I wake up and -join the officers at breakfast. Hot cocoa, without milk, for milk is -reserved for the patients; bacon, biscuits, and jam. No bread has been -issued at Suvla up to now. I then learn some news. We had actually -taken the high hills on the left of Anafarta Village, which lies just -behind the lower hills in front of us. The Gurkhas and Australians -had actually been on top of Sari Bair—had been treated to the joy of -looking down on to the Dardanelles on the other side. - -Something went amiss. Our troops had to retire, and now our line ran -from the hills on the left of the bay, but about a mile and a half -inland on the mainland, dropping down to the low lands in front, -continuing in front of Chocolate Hill, which was ours, across the low -land on the right of Chocolate Hill, then running gently a short way -up the slope of Sari Bair, finally joining hands with the Anzacs in -position some distance up the slope of the hills in front of Gaba Tepe. - -Burnt Hill, a small eminence in front of Chocolate Hill, is to be -attacked to-day. This is so named because of the gorse which had been -burnt by the shelling at the landing. We saw this burning gorse from -Helles on the 7th and 8th. - -Once Burnt Hill was ours, the Turks would be forced to retire to -Anafarta. A further attack on our part would capture Anafarta and -the high hills on our left, enabling the Anzacs to capture Sari Bair. -Thence to Maidos, Achi Baba cut off, and the Dardanelles forced. - -I am just about to leave, thanking them for their hospitality, when -shrapnel burst outside overhead. I say to them, “Surely this hospital -does not get shelled?” And they tell me that now and again a stray -shrapnel does burst here, but that they are shelling a small column of -carts passing along the beach, a small cluster of horsemen riding in -Salt Lake, or a few men passing over the flat wooded country. No target -appears too small for their shrapnel, even people bathing. The shore in -the centre of the bay is within easy reach of their field-gun shrapnel, -but as a rule they respect this Welsh hospital, though it is within -full view and easy range of their guns. - -I continue my walk and keep close to the water’s edge, for shrapnel -now and again bursts not more than a hundred yards inland. I reach the -Supply depot that I had seen from Lala Baba, and learn that we are now -IXth Corps, that I have arrived at the Corps Reserve Supply depot on -“A” Beach, that they get shelled regularly every day, also that Foley -and Way are further up the road, towards the end of the promontory. - -I walk up there and find them sitting in a small depot that they have -formed, with a little camp of wagon-covers and ground-sheets, supported -by logs obtained from a broken lighter. I feel glad to see them. -O’Hara comes up soon after with Badcock, who is over from G.H.Q. to -get transport in order, having been here since the landing. We make -ourselves a little more comfortable during the morning; a bivouac for -Way and myself is made of a tarpaulin stretched over balks of timber, -forming a little house open at the sides. We are out of range of -shrapnel, but I learn that high explosive and howitzer shells often -come our way. - -In the morning I see Cox, who has returned from Alexandria, and learn -that the 88th Brigade are not to be in action to-day, for which I am -thankful. We get ready to send up rations by A.T. carts and pack-mules -to-night. - -At 1 o’clock Way goes up to see his Brigade H.Q.—the 86th—on Chocolate -Hill. The 87th and 88th are there as well, and D.H.Q. and other H.Q. of -other Brigades, and the side of the hill must be very congested. I can -see hundreds of troops sheltering on the low ground by Lala Baba across -the bay. - - -_2.30._ - -The four battleships and all our guns on shore open a heavy bombardment -on the Turkish position on the hills in front, and especially on Burnt -Hill, and an hour later the gorse on that hill and on the low ground to -the right of Chocolate Hill catches alight, and is soon burning like a -roaring furnace, spreading like the fire on a prairie. At 3.30 I hear -rifle fire and learn that our attack on Burnt Hill has started. The -artillery simultaneously increases its range. The bombardment, however, -does not ring so confidently as did our bombardment in the victorious -battle of June 28th, nor does it appear to be so powerful. - -I see the Yeomanry now marching steadily in open order across the Salt -Lake. It is the first time that they have been in action. Several years -ago I was a trooper in the Warwickshire Yeomanry, who are now with the -rest marching into battle. The Worcesters, Gloucesters, Middlesex, -Sharp-shooters, Sherwood Foresters, Notts and Derby are there, and I -think several other regiments, all troopers and troop leaders on foot, -their horses left in Egypt. Little did they think, when they trained -on Salisbury Plain for cavalry work, that when the hour came for them -to go into battle they would go in on foot as infantry. When they did -their regular fourteen days’ annual training, some of their friends -used to laugh at them, saying that they were playing at soldiers. What -I see before my eyes now is no play. Yet they look the same as they -did on Salisbury Plain. Ah! the real thing for them has come at last, -though many of them only landed this morning, for I see a white puff -of shrapnel burst over their heads. It is quickly followed by another -and another, developing to a rapid concentrated fire. They run the -gauntlet without losing their Salisbury Plain steadiness, except for an -occasional bunching together here and there. Soon casualties occur and -prostrate khaki figures can be seen lying on the sandy salt of the lake -for the stretcher-bearers and ambulance-wagons to pick up—the harvest -of war. At last they are at Chocolate Hill, where they nestle under its -slopes for protection till further orders. - -At 6 p.m. Way returns, and tells us that Chocolate Hill was “Red Hell” -while he was there, smothered in shrapnel and flying bullets; that an -officer in D.H.Q. has been killed quite near him, but O’Hara is safe. -It was not safe for Way to leave until five o’clock. - -Dusk arrives, and the moon is rising. Major Badcock is going up with -kit for D.H.Q. to Chocolate Hill on four little box cars, and I ask -if I can go with him to see my Brigade H.Q. He gives me a lift, and -off we go along the bumpy track from the promontory to the mainland, -when, bending to the right, through clusters of trees and in and out of -gorse-bushes and boulders, we arrive at last on the flat, growthless -plain of the Salt Lake. Instead of being heavy going over soft sand, -as I thought it would be, it is very good going over a hard, binding -surface, and we get along at a fine pace, which in the moonlight, on -such an occasion, is very exciting and enjoyable. Soon I see the shadow -of trees and cultivation, and know that we are nearing Chocolate Hill, -and almost at the same time I hear and almost feel the unpleasant whiz -of many bullets overhead, about, and around. We stop, but the noise -of the pulsating engines of the car drowns all other sounds, and we -walk a little way in front and hear the regular rattle of heavy rifle -fire. The spot where we are standing is receiving the benefit of the -“overs,” many of which kick up the dust around us. Now and again shells -scream over, but not many. We drive on to the trees in front, and dump -our kit. At this point the bullets are flying fairly high, and we feel -safer, though I expect all the time that blow of a sledge-hammer which -comes with the hit of a bullet. We unload the kit by some trees, and -some men near by are instructed to go on to the Division and tell them -that the first batch of their kit had arrived, and one man is left in -charge. We turn to go back, and I notice a wounded man on a stretcher -being carried away, and I ask them to put him in the car. I offer him -water, but he refuses, saying that he has been hit by a shrapnel bullet -in the stomach, and water makes him vomit. His voice sounds familiar to -me. I look at his face—I ask him if he is Howell of the Warwickshire -Yeomanry—he replies “Yes.” We rode next to each other, years ago, as -troopers. Many wounded are lying here, there, and everywhere, and we -load up our empty cars with as many as we can, and steadily and gently -go back. Firing dies down. It was only “wind up” on the part of the -Turks. I leave Howell at the Welsh Casualty Clearing Station on the “B” -Beach. He is quite cheerful. His experience of actual war started when -he had landed this morning, and ends now as he lies wounded, waiting to -be properly attended to, and he had trained and given up his spare time -for years past for these few hours! He shakes me by the hand. After -this war I do not think that people will be amused at the “playing at -soldiers” of Yeomanry and Territorials. - -Back at the beach I load the four cars once more with D.H.Q. kit, and -off we proceed on a second journey. I am alone in charge this time, for -Badcock has to go up to Corps H.Q. The full moon brilliantly lighting -up everything helps us to get along at a good pace. On arrival at the -trees on the other side of the Salt Lake, where we had dumped the first -loads, I find no signs of this first batch, and a few men about appear -to know nothing whatever about it. We go steadily along, feeling our -way carefully, for there is no road, towards Chocolate Hill. I leave -the cars two hundred yards from Chocolate Hill and walk the rest of the -way. I pass men hard at work digging a trench. I arrive at the foot -of the hill and find it congested with all manner and kinds of parts -of units of an army. There are some infantry of our Brigade awaiting -orders—mule-carts with Drabis sitting cross-legged unconcernedly -thereon. Bullets do not appear to worry them. I believe they think -that they are butterflies. A first-line dressing station is chock full -of wounded, and the M.O.’s are hard at work attending to the cases. -Signal stations are tap-tapping and buzzers buz-buzzing. I walk up -the slopes of the hill, wending my way past dugouts all around, to my -right and left and above, in which are H.Q. of various Brigades. I step -over poor, broken dead men, lying nestling in the gorse, and curse from -the bottom of my heart the rulers of the German Empire; and seeing an -officer standing outside a dugout, I inquire for Major O’Hara, of the -29th Division. Am told that he will be back shortly. I then ask for -88th H.Q., and he comes along with me to help me look for them. We find -them eventually, and I learn that rations have been received. I also -learn that the day has not gone well with us, but that we will probably -attack at dawn, and that the 88th will this time be in action. The -Yeomanry, shortly after arriving at Chocolate Hill, had gone up beyond -to our front line under a terrible fire, but in perfect order, quietly -and orderly as if on parade. We had not advanced our position, which -was the same as before the battle. The gorse is burning fiercely on my -right, lighting up the immediate neighbouring country. Several wounded -were caught in it and burnt to death before they could be rescued, but -many were saved, and some gallant deeds were done in their rescue. - -Sir John Milbanke, V.C., has been killed. Practically his last words -were, “Great Scott! this is a bloody business.” We go back to the -dugout of D.H.Q., where we find O’Hara and also Bray, the A.P.M. I had -often heard of Bray several years before the war, for my brother-in-law -was his pupil. He asks me if I am any relation to his pupil’s wife, and -so we meet and are introduced. - -I hand the kit over to Bray. I am instructed to go back and fetch up -two of the cars loaded with tins of water from “A” trench. As I leave, -a rattle of musketry again bursts out from the jumpy enemy, and bullets -zip past, seeming to come from all directions. Parties which have been -standing about in the open move for cover. I again load up my four cars -with wounded, one case being that of a man who has just been hit in the -leg while digging in the trench that I had just passed. Back at “A” -Beach I apply for water at the water dump, and am told that it cannot -be issued without a chit from the officer. “Where is the officer?” “In -his dugout.” “Where is his dugout?” “Two hundred yards up the beach.” -Arrive at officer’s dugout. Officer asleep; wakened up. “Can’t have -water without chit from Corps.” I reply, “I shall get my water, and -at once, please.” He replies, “What’s that?” I repeat. I am refused a -chit. I politely explain that the reason he is peacefully enjoying his -slumber undisturbed by Turkish bayonets is because our Tommies are in -the front busy seeing that the Turks do not come over our line and rush -the trenches, also that some of those Tommies want water, and that I -have been instructed to take it to them. - -The water loaded on two cars, the other two holding kit, off we proceed -once more on our third trip, but, alas! the moon dips down into the -sea. A shout from behind, and a car full of kit overturns in a trench. -It is left with the driver till morning. On we go, first bumping into -large stone boulders, then into large clusters of thick gorse, and two -more cars are finally out of action in deep holes. On I go with the -third car, groping our way across the Salt Lake, for it is now pitch -dark, and at last, when near the advanced dressing station, flames -spurt out from the bonnet of the car, and halting, we find something -afire in the almost red-hot engine. We stop. I walk over to the -dressing station. There is not much firing, only an occasional sing of -a bullet and no shells. - -I learn that they are getting water now from a well, but want -receptacles. I off-load my tins from the car into an ambulance-wagon, -which proceeds up to Chocolate Hill, two hundred yards away. We wait -until the engine is quite cool, and then grope our way back; dawn is -breaking, and it becomes gradually lighter. Arriving at my “bivvy,” I -fling myself on my camp-bed and am fast asleep in two seconds. - - -_August 22nd._ - -We did not attack at dawn, and so the 88th have not been in action. We -are as we were—yesterday’s battle is not to be recorded as a victory -for us. Machine guns again from right, left, and centre fired from -behind great boulders of stone and hidden hillocks covered with gorse, -and wave after wave of our men were mown down as with a scythe. Twice -we captured the Burnt Hill, but twice were driven off, and Burnt Hill -remains Turkish. The Yeomanry were unable to get to grips with the -enemy: but for gallantry in that march from Chocolate Hill to our front -line, four hundred yards in front across the open in the daylight, -under a hail of shrapnel and machine gun bullets, their behaviour could -not have been excelled. - -Their officers represent the best blood of England, and their men good -old country blood of the hunting and farmer class of Old England, -with many a man of good birth in the ranks. How could such men behave -otherwise than gallantly? To-night I take up the remainder of D.H.Q. -kit to their new quarters, not so far forward as Chocolate Hill, to a -rocky hillock covered by gorse, inland from the mainland, a distance of -about a mile in a line with our promontory. The place, if found out by -John Turk, will prove to be a perfect shell-trap, and shells bursting -on solid rock will burst “some.” They will be foolish to stay there. - - -_August 24th._ - -To-day we had a terrific thunderstorm; forked lightning all over the -sky and heavy rain, but it lasted only an hour. - -We chose a new site further up the side of the slope of the promontory, -yet under cover of a slight rise of ground. The formation of the land -here is full of dips and rises, not noticeable from a distance, and -thereby affording excellent cover, for which we thank Providence. We -have to move, for the Corps Reserve depot is getting such an unhealthy -spot on “A” Beach that it is shortly moving to where we are now. - -All day long the battleships pop off at the Turks on shore, the row -from the guns echoing and rebounding with deafening reverberation from -the hills and sides of the promontory. - -I go up with rations to our Brigade to-night—a beautiful night—with a -convoy of mule-carts driven by the imperturbable Drabis, who merrily -chant Indian songs. The moon at night simplifies our work considerably. -By day it is dangerous for transport to go far afield. - - -_August 25th._ - -It is now four long, terrible months since we landed, and we are still -on the low lands at the three landings. The positions in front of us -are formidable, almost impregnable, and unless the Balkan States are -drawn in on our side, never shall we open the Dardanelles. The task is -now impossible for us, and we have lost our opportunity at the start by -only landing with one Division. Our effort has failed, though we have -made good our landing. The shipping here gets shelled as at Helles, and -this morning a battleship was hit twice. - -We can hear heavy firing down at Helles. - - -_August 26th._ - -Everywhere everybody is hard at work making dugouts. In the line our -infantry are feverishly making a line of defence, digging night and day -without cessation. “A” Beach gets shelled, but no shells reach our end -of the promontory. Our battleships’ guns roar out continually all day, -as if in sullen anger at the recent failure—at what I am afraid will -be our last effort. My Brigade has moved over from Chocolate Hill, and -is in the line on the low part of the slope of the high hills which -form the left flank, next to the sea, of our position, and Brigade H.Q. -is dug in behind a hillock in a gully which has been called Lone Tree -Gully. - - -_August 27th._ - -A violent gale blowing to-day. Carver, Petro, and Phillips are now here -as transport officers. - -Work on the beaches now goes on feverishly, night and day. Each day a -new sand-bagged dugout appears. Additions are made to the piers. Two -off West Beach are complete. One further up, towards the end of the -promontory, is being built rapidly and skilfully by a bridging party of -regular Australian Army Engineers. I am told by their warrant officer -that there is a regular Australian Army, but that it is being jealously -guarded in Australia, and that really it is only a framework of an -army. The bridging section, however, at Suvla is part of this. The -fighting army of Australia and New Zealand is voluntary since the war, -yet is superior in fighting qualities to the Prussian Guard. - -Further up, towards the end of the promontory, two small beaches or -coves are rapidly being turned into fitting order to receive the steady -requirements of food, ammunition, S.A.A. stores, ordnance, etc., and -piers there are rapidly being thrown out. At night, long convoys of -A.T. carts and pack-mules form up loaded with rations, A.S.C. and -Ordnance stores and ammunition, and proceed along the promontory -towards the mainland. On arrival there they branch off in various -directions to their respective destinations, just behind the line. -Early on their journey they encounter the song of bullets flying from -the Turkish line continually all night. I think that the Turks in the -front line must be given so many rounds of ammunition and told to loose -off in the air in our direction, not aiming at anybody, but firing -blindly in the hope of a victim. Now and again a bullet does find a -victim, but on going up regularly each night one gets so accustomed -to the sound of their flight, that one walks on, taking no notice; -although, if by any chance a rifle is pointing directly your way, even -at a thousand yards’ range, it sounds as if it is fired close to your -head, and almost simultaneously, “whizz-ping,” goes past you very near, -and then unconsciously you duck. - -The drivers on the A.T. carts, however, worry about the bullets less -than anybody, remaining sitting on their carts and chanting away -contentedly. - -To-night, trouble with water occurs, and I am up with O’Hara and Hadow, -our Staff Captain, at Brigade H.Q. on the job. Our H.Q. now are at -Lone Tree Gully, about four hundred yards behind our front line. One -is quite safe there unless they choose to shrapnel it, but a gully in -front was badly shrapnelled the other day, and the Royal Scots, being -caught in it, were severely mauled. Further back on the road, though, -for some distance one has to walk along through a zone of “overs,” and -two found a target to-night in a sergeant and corporal on transport -duty. As I walk along that road, I am always ready waiting for the -sledge-hammer blow from the unseen hand, always hoping that it will be -a Blighty one, through the soft part of the arm or leg. - -A large proportion of our water has to be brought ashore by -water-lighters, pipes leading from them to the shore. Tanks are filled -from the pipes, and all kinds of receptacles filled from the tanks, -such as petrol-cans, milkcans, fantasies, and goat-skins. The cans can -be loaded on to the A.T. carts, while the fantasies and goat-skins -are loaded on to mules, in each case two on a mule, one hanging on -either side. The A.T. cart form of transport is much preferable to the -pack-mule, for the latter is fond of bucking and throwing off his load, -which on a dark night on convoy means great trouble. - -The Engineers are hard at work finding wells, but such wells as we have -cannot by any means supply even half of the requirements of water. - -After we have turned in to-night we hear a heavy roar of musketry -from Anzac, and soon the battleships and shore batteries join in. It -is a clear night, and the roar of the musketry echoes over the bay -remarkably loudly. I have never heard such concentrated rifle fire so -loudly before. - -It lasts for about two hours, and then dies suddenly away to the -incessant crack-crack-crack of the regular nightly rifle fire. - - -_August 28th._ - -Gale still high. - -To-day, I, with Foley, pay my first visit to a battleship, the -_Swiftsure_. She is easily distinguishable from other ships by two -large cranes in position amidships on either side. I had previously -signalled to Fleet-Surgeon Jeans on board, sending an introduction -to him given me by General Cayley, our Brigadier. A pinnace arrives -for me; we skim over the calm water of the bay, smartly pulling up -alongside the great ship. My quest was a case of whisky for Brigade -H.Q., stuck up in dugouts in Lone Tree Gully, with no chance of getting -any. This is the first time that I have been on a battleship, and as I -climb up the rope ladder, I remember that I had read somewhere that in -the days of Nelson one saluted the quarter-deck when one steps thereon. -As I was first up I did not know whether it was correct, but I did so, -and noticing some Naval officers following me behind also saluting, saw -that I was correct. - -They entertained us royally on board. I nearly had a nervous breakdown -when they offered me a whisky and soda. Naval officers cannot be beaten -as hosts. - -A howitzer has been potting at us to-day, a good many of the shells -going right over the cliff into the sea on the other side. - -Convoy work again at night to Lone Tree Gully, and a chat with the -General in his dugout. A lovely moonlight night, and calm again after a -three days’ beastly gale. - - -_August 29th._ - -Go to D.H.Q. in the morning, who have now moved back to a gully -alongside Corps H.Q., nicely dug in the side of a hill near us. Their -quarters, as well as those of Corps, are built amongst the green gorse, -which, with paths running in and out and terraces about, makes a -lovely garden. Very nice conditions under which to work. I am writing -this on the heights of the shale cliffs of the northern promontory of -Suvla Bay. The sea is calm and a deep, lovely blue, suddenly changing -to green at the foot of the rocks. Suvla Bay, with Salt Lake and the -wooded and gorsed low land and the hills and the mountains in the -background, are laid out in beautiful panorama. Achi Baba can be seen -in the distance south, and I have been so used to seeing it from Cape -Helles that the view is quite a novelty. - -Off the bay are three battleships, supply ships, and trawlers, -lighters, etc. An aeroplane is humming overhead, and our guns on shore -are continually barking away, while little puffs of shrapnel from the -Turkish batteries burst over and about the wooded low lands, Salt Lake -and Chocolate Hill, where our front line runs, denoted by the crackle -of musketry. - -The view is most interesting, the brownish-green gorges—leading to the -sea—with their clouds of dust denoting the industry within. Behind me, -purple Turkish hills, every point of which is held by the enemy. Then -in between our line and the hills the scrubby low-lying country, all -buff and green, the cultivated land, and the olive groves. I look at -it hopelessly—for I know now, as we all do, that the conquest of the -Peninsula is more than we can hope for. All that is left to us is to -hang on day by day. It is anything but a cheery prospect. Death in -various forms walks with us always; the sad processions of sick and -wounded—chiefly the former—move down to the hospital ships every day; -we see all our best friends taken, one after the other—and to what -end? The golden chances have been allowed to slip by; we can never win -through now—so we have to “cling on” to the bitter end. - - -_August 30th._ - -A beautiful day again! Turkish batteries very busy all day. Shrapnel -and high explosive shell, and also duelling between Fleet and land -batteries. Otherwise all quiet, nothing doing. Brigade moves down from -trenches to “A” Beach West, and news that we are to go to Imbros for a -rest is circulated. Enemy aeroplane swoops over like an evil-looking -vulture and tries to drop bombs on Fleet, but has no direct hit to -record. - -At nightfall Brigade starts to embark, ready to sail at daylight. -Officers have cabins, and so I am enabled to have a sleep. Am suffering -from one of my beastly colds, however. - -Nice to get away, after the disappointments of that worst of all -months, August, when we had expected so much. - -[Illustration: A CAPTURED TURKISH TRENCH, SUVLA BAY.] - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF SUVLA BAY. - -Sari Bair (well behind the Turkish lines) can be seen in the background -to the left of the picture.] - - -_August 31st._ - -Arrive at Imbros at 8 a.m., and Brigade proceeds to camp on the low -land by the sea. I mess with the General and Staff, and again parcels -arrive opportunely with masterpieces of cakes and sweets, which are -seized by the mess waiter and daintily served up at table. - -Oh! the relief to get away from shell fire and the chill atmosphere of -death in its crudest form. - - - - - SEPTEMBER - - -_September 1st._ - -Start off with my man Lewington on donkeys and a pack pony across the -hills, over a stony, narrow path, with three little boys in charge -of the animals. The way is sometimes over and sometimes round a line -of irregular, conical-shaped hills, some almost mountains, covered -with thick green gorse, large boulders, rocks, and small stones. The -few valleys are beautifully wooded and dotted with vineyards growing -luscious dark grapes, and also groves of fig-trees. - -One gets glimpses of the blue Ægean now and again, and the distant -Isthmus of Gallipoli and the Island of Samothrace, with the coast of -Bulgaria still further off. After two hours’ trek, during which I felt -as if I was a character in the Scriptures, we sighted the village of -Panaghia, and we had a sporting trot down a narrow, sandy, steep path. - -One little boy on a donkey, who joined us, raced me and beat me by a -short neck. Poor old Lewington was hanging on to his moke with a pained -but polite expression on his face, and heaved a sigh of relief when we -arrived at the village. - -We pulled up at the Grand Britannia Hotel, recently so named by a -Greek. It is a little broken-down house, having on the ground floor a -boot shop, and on the first and top floor two small bare rooms. - -After a meal of partridge, omelettes, and honey, with German beer to -drink, I am taken out to an empty house, and shown to a room furnished -only with a bench. - -My man slept on the landing and I in the room, and I soon fell fast -asleep. At midnight I am awakened by certain creepy insects. I light -candles and awake my man, and we conduct a massacre. Our landlord -arrives on the scene much disturbed, and places my bed in the centre of -the room, whereupon I turn in again and sleep peacefully for the rest -of the night. - - -_September 2nd._ - -Awake in the morning with the sun streaming in and with the sounds -of cocks crowing and chickens clucking. Looking out, the view of the -conical beautiful hills makes me almost catch my breath, and, God bless -my soul! a Greek peasant maiden, beauteous to look upon and fair of -complexion, is feeding her pigs and chickens. - -After breakfast at the Grand Britannia Hotel (sounds like the Ritz, -London, doesn’t it?), Duff, of all people, rolls up with Munro. We all -lunch together, and then roam round the village, buy a few things, and -take photographs. - -After tea, Duff goes on to Castra, by the sea on the other side of the -island, and Munro and I go back to camp. It is beautiful riding back -through the hills in the late afternoon. Perfect day and colouring -gorgeous. Nearing camp we get a fine view of Gallipoli. All is so -peaceful where we are, but just over that narrow strip of sea, war -rules in its most horrible form. - -Have dinner with Cox, of the Essex, who turns in at 8.30, and I go back -to Headquarters and have an after-dinner smoke with the General and -Staff, sitting round a little table in the marquee lit by candle-light. - - -_September 3rd._ - -Start off with Phillips on a donkey and pony respectively over the -hills again. A gorgeous morning, and it is good to be alive. Peasants -give us delightful grapes as we ride along. Sheep are grazing, their -bells tinkling, with a few cows and bullocks, and now and again a covey -of partridges rises. - -Arriving at Panaghia, we have a bottle of beer, and then go on along -the road to Castra, by the sea. Castra is situated on a high hill -overlooking the sea, with a few fishermen’s huts on the beach. - -The Isle of Samothrace, which is a cluster of mountains rising sheer -from the sea, lies opposite. The sea is dead calm, and of a gorgeous -blue. A few fishing boats lie in a tiny little harbour on the right of -the little bay, which is flanked by hills. In the background are more -hills and low wooded valleys, and we feel as if we had stepped into the -Garden of Eden. - -Duff is here, and we have lunch, after which Duff returns to camp. -Phillips and I go up on the cliff and have a delightful sleep. -Everything is dead quiet, and there is not a cloud in the sky. We are -right away from the world, and the scene before us—that of the blue -Ægean with Samothrace a few miles away—has not changed for thousands of -years. - -After tea, we have a bathe in beautifully clear, warm water, and no -rocks. The evening closes in, and the colouring thrown by the declining -sun on Samothrace is beautiful. A boat with a square sail comes sailing -home, looking like “the return of Ulysses.” - -After dinner we turn in and sleep on the floor of the veranda. - - -_September 4th._ - -Wake up early. A perfect morning, but a high wind. Scene beautiful. -Talk to an old Greek, who has been all over the world, and in all the -ports of England, and who has come home to his native island for the -rest of his days. Try fishing, but catch nothing. After lunch, start -back to camp on ponies, stopping at Panaghia for tea, arriving home at -6.30. - - -_September 5th._ - -Start off again for Panaghia with Duff and Elliott, and have lunch -there. After lunch we go off to another village, where an annual -holiday is being held. Bands are playing and the inhabitants are -dancing weird native dances, appearing very solemn about it. Parties -are going round from house to house, visiting and partaking of -refreshment, such as grapes, figs, wine and liqueurs. An old Greek -invites us in, and his wife forces us to have grapes, melon, jelly, and -liqueurs. I took a bite of cake and was nearly violently ill. - -We came back another way through vineyards, where grapes can be had for -the asking, olive groves, and fig-tree orchards. - - -_September 6th._ - -A fine day again, but windy. No news, but a rumour that Bulgaria is -against us now, and that we shall be in Gallipoli for the winter. We go -back to-morrow night. - -We get up a concert, which takes place in the evening. We rig up a -platform, borrow a piano from the Y.M.C.A., and make up a programme. -I snaffle some champagne for Headquarters, and after a cheery dinner -we go to the concert. We have some excellent talent, and everybody -thoroughly enjoys it. It is a sight worth seeing—the platform lit by -candles, and the Brigade seated around on the sand: some of those who -took part in the landing, some recently in the fighting at Suvla, and -new drafts who had not yet tasted war. - -“The Defence of Lucknow” was recited by Lieutenant Butler, of the -Worcesters, an actor by profession and a good fellow, and it went -splendidly and gripped us all. New Brigade Major arrives, Wilson, of -the Royal Fusiliers. - - -_September 7th._ - -Awake at five, and on becoming conscious of the fact that to-day I have -to go back to that Peninsula, to remain there for Lord knows how long, -I have the same depressed feeling, only more so, that one has in the -days of school on the last day of the holiday. - -At 6 a.m. Phillips and I and the Supply Section embark, and on a -tossing trawler, bucking about like a wild horse, we undergo the misery -of a four hours’ crossing in a very rough sea to Suvla Bay, where we -arrive at 10 a.m. We lie off the _Swiftsure_ for an hour, and then two -pinnaces come alongside, to take us on shore. Shrapnel is bursting -steadily over the low lands, and one or two high explosives are now -and again bursting on “A” Beach and “W” Beach. We land soon after 11 -a.m., and on arrival back at our part of the promontory we find that -our camp has been moved to the end of the long gully, where on the side -of a hill D.H.Q. are dug in. - -The contours of the country are curious. Great natural scars run down -to a flat plateau washed by the waves. In these gullies hundreds of men -and animals are getting what protection they can. The Engineers are -building a road, on one side of which is a row of dugouts, artfully -hidden by a row of great boulders. This is our advanced Horse Transport -depot, and a pretty hot shop, as the Turks have the exact range. In -front of the dugouts are the horse-lines, where rows and rows of mules -and horses are packed into the throat of the gorge for shelter. A dry -watercourse winds down the gorge, so the place will be impossible in -winter; as it is, Death takes his daily toll of men and animals, while -down the path comes a never-ending procession of sick and wounded -from the front line, and very occasionally a prisoner or two. Up the -same path, at night, the reinforcements march to rest in dugouts just -behind the line until their turn to take over arrives. To the left of -the gorge a huge rocky point runs out to the sea—this point also is -a thick mass of men and animals, practically in the open, so limited -is space. Truly an unfriendly and uninviting country. The hot dust is -over everything—the flies torment, and shells take their toll of us, -while we are powerless to hit back. The mouth of the gorge widens to -the beach, where there are three tiny bays, which with the plateau form -“A” Beach: Kangaroo Beach, with its lighter and pontoon quays, its -sand-bagged dugouts, and the like; West Beach—the main landing-place, -with rather better piers and offices; and Little West Beach, a sort -of overflow to West Beach proper, embellished with a tram line for -horse-drawn trucks, the Ordnance depot, etc.—all these places are -swarming with men, and over all hangs the eternal dust! - -Further along on the plateau from West Beach, and looking towards Lala -Baba, is the Supply depot and the watering-places for the animals, -all in the open, with no protection at all: a wonderful spectacle, -if you like to think of it, and only possible because John Turk is -short of ammunition. Here in the bare open the troops live from day to -day, a few sand-bags only between them and death, and very few of the -dugouts boast a real roof; blankets and waterproof sheets answer that -purpose, and so it is not difficult to imagine the havoc wrought when -shrapnel is about. To the north lies the bold, forbidding point, before -mentioned, with the waves flinging their white manes in anger against -its sides. Such, roughly, is Suvla Bay as I see it now, and I cannot -say that it impresses me as a practical proposition. - -Dug in on the side of a slope the others have built a house, or, as far -as dugouts in Gallipoli go, a summer residence. The door faces the rise -leading up to the rugged point, from the craggy back of which one sees -the cliff-side dropping sheer to the sea. - -The roof of corrugated iron slopes at the same angle as the slope of -the ground in which we have dug. For walls, the dugout earth forms -the back wall, and the side walls are built of biscuit boxes. We -spend the day improving on this. Immediately in front is our Supply -depot, divided into three dumps, one each for the 86th, 87th, and 88th -Brigades. At dusk the pack-mules and A.T. carts form up, and we load -on to the set of mules or carts allotted to each unit the rations and -fuel. The transport then moves off by Brigades to the front, the mules -led by Drabis, the carts driven also by Drabis, and the whole escorted -by Indian N.C.O.’s under a white N.C.O. Q.M.S.’s Transport N.C.O.’s, -guides of the units, and the A.S.C. Transport Officer accompany them to -the respective battalion and dumps, situated a distance of two hundred -to three hundred yards behind the front line. In some cases convoys -proceed direct to the regimental cookhouses. The transport dares not -show itself by day. To-night our Brigade arrives from Imbros, and is to -spend the night in De Lisle’s Gully, some short distance to the left of -the road that leads to Lone Tree Gully, but up the hill rather, and so -our rations go there. Water has been put there for them by Carver last -night. We watch this water question closely. It needs careful handling -and foresight. A man can go hungry much longer than he can go thirsty, -and water is far more difficult to transport by sea than food. Imbros -is the source of our supply, and water-tank lighters are filled there -and towed over each day. - -The water dump is on “A” Beach, and all the Divisions that are being -supplied from this promontory draw from this dump. An able man, -one Private Jones, is in charge. Though before the war an L.C.C. -school-teacher, he appears to be the one man in the world who could be -chosen to be the most efficient and tactful organizer of the difficult -task of satisfying an army of 30,000 men with their daily requirements -of water, from a limited source, and by means of a limited supply of -receptacles, steadily diminishing in number. - -At seven I go up with Carver to the H.Q. of the 86th Brigade. Instead -of walking up the road that leads to Pine Tree Gully, we bear off -to the right, and pass along a lower road through the wooded, -gorse-covered low lands for a distance of about a mile and a half -inland, until bullets are merrily singing their song of war overhead. -“Zi-i-ip” goes one between us. A pause in the conversation, and Carver -says, “That was not pleasant,” to which I agree, but adding, “If hit, -it means Blighty, my boy, the Savoy, and theatres, or ‘Finish,’ as we -say in Egypt.” - -We come to a wide space in front of us, and to our left is high ground, -rising in one place to about 30 feet. Carver tells me that we are at -Brigade dumping-ground. A.T. carts are packed here in readiness to -bring the baggage back to the beach for the 86th Brigade, as it is -their turn now to go to Imbros. - -[Illustration: GENERAL DE LISLE’S HEADQUARTERS, SUVLA BAY.] - -He searches for his Staff Captain in the dark, and I go up to the -bushes in front and talk to Baxter, the Quartermaster of the Munsters, -and a few other officers who are sitting down on a rock. As I stand -there I hear close to my ear “zi-i-ip”—an unseen hand appears to strike -a bush with a big stick on my left. Baxter says, “You are standing in -a place where bullets keep dropping. You should sit down. One just -passed your head.” I am always sensitive as to how to behave on these -occasions, with men whose lives are always passed in the trenches, -and so I reply “Did it?” I heard the thing plain enough, and sat down -promptly. I have learned to take my cue as to what to do from such -men, and they are always right. Many a man has been hit by totally -disregarding the necessity of taking cover, believing that others may -think he has “cold feet,” and he wishes to prove that he is brave by -bravado. He forgets he is more useful to his country alive. There are -many times when he must take risk, so it is wiser for him to reserve -his bravado for those times. - -I sit down, and a minute after, “zi-i-ip” again, and thud into the -bush. Baxter tells me that it is only this corner which is dangerous, -but that they are sitting there because it is a nice seat and the only -one handy for waiting. If you walk about the rest of the space, the -bullets are flying high and one is safe. This happens all over the -Peninsula, owing to the curious formation of the land. At one area of -a certain spot, bullets may hit the ground regularly on or near that -part, while a few yards away they fly high. Soon one becomes familiar -with this peculiarity and acts accordingly. It is because some Turks -may be on a rise, others on the ground. They generally fire at nothing -in particular, but straight in front of them. All night they fire -away—crack, crack, crack, crack—and must waste a lot of ammunition. - -Carver, having finished his arrangements, calls me, and we walk back -a short distance over a small rise, threading our way along a path no -doubt used not long since by Turkish farmers; descending a slope, we -pass to the right by a little hill not more than 30 feet high, and make -towards a light, which is 86th Brigade H.Q. We are walking up to the -door, and can see General Percival and Thomson sitting in the mess-room -dugout. When we are four yards away from them the General says, “Good -evening, Carver,” when Carver, to my astonishment, using a fearful -oath, disappears into the earth. The light from H.Q. mess dazzles my -eyes somewhat, and I stop dead, still looking at the place where Carver -had performed his pantomimic vanishing trick, when he again appears, -looking foolish. He had neatly stepped into a dugout, which, I found -out after, was waiting to be filled in, and we had not noticed it on -account of the light in our eyes. We go in and chat, and I tell them of -the joys and beauty which they are to taste and see on Imbros. - -Back to the beach, where I find our Staff Captain, Hadow, arrived. The -Brigade is arriving, hundreds of dark, shadowy figures quietly falling -in in platoons and marching off inland. I talk to Mould awhile about -the eternal topic—water—and then turn in. - - -_September 8th._ - -To-night I go up to Brigade, this time a different way across country, -following a guide who has been down for rations and tells me he knows a -quick way. We pass in and out of boulders and clumps of gorse, down the -rocky gully where D.H.Q. were for a few nights, past clumps of trees, -over grass, over an open space with more pinging bullets than ever, at -last to H.Q., and find them all sitting in darkness, and the General -rather anxious about the non-arrival of two of his battalions, who have -missed their way and are having a country night ramble all over the -place, groping about in the dark. - -Coming back, I pass the Hampshires, and an officer asking me the way, I -direct him to H.Q. - - -_September 14th._ - -The past days, since I last entered up my Diary, have been so -monotonous that in a fit of sulkiness I threw it on one side, saying -I would not record another day’s events, for nothing happens. The -monotony knocks Helles sideways. I go up every morning to D.H.Q. at the -top of our gully to take instructions. I see the Main Supply depot to -arrange drawing the day’s supplies. I wire the strength of the Division -to G.H.Q. I read papers three to four weeks old; I answer letters of -the same age. Some days I go up the slope opposite our bivouac, and, -climbing down the cliff on the other side, have a topping bathe. I -strafe flies by the thousand—they are a damnable pest. I watch the -battleships pooping away, and at odd times have to duck from a Turkish -shell. At dusk I superintend the loading up of rations and water, and -go up to Brigade H.Q. for a chat. The atmosphere of their company, -however, always bucks me up. - -Our guns poop off at odd intervals each day, and ammunition appears -to be becoming more plentiful. The Turks are continually busy with -shrapnel over Chocolate Hill and the low land, especially at Hill 10, -where we have several batteries, and now and again the beaches. - -“C” Beach, on the other side of Lala Baba, over the bay, however, gets -it far worse than we do. However, generally speaking, I do not think -that the Turk fires as much as we do. - -Well, I will continue the Diary: things cannot go on like this for -ever, and the best thing to do is to accept the life as it comes and -treat everything as a matter of course—even shells. All of us who have -been on here any length of time feel that our time to get hit will -eventually arrive. Personally, I prefer the sledge-hammer blow from the -unseen hand—namely, a bullet from a rifle. - -I have been feeling very seedy the last few days, with the common -complaint that men are going sick fast with now. - -I went up to the Brigade to-night, but felt very ill when there, and -was glad to swallow a strong brandy which the General offered to me. -Coming back over the gorse, bullets seemed freer than usual, thudding -into the bushes on my right and left. I felt sick and faint, and sat -down waiting for an empty mule-cart returning on its way to the beach. -One soon came, with two men of the Essex, and I was thankful for the -lift home. “Pukka” original 29th men of the Essex, and good fellows. - -About a dozen motor-lorries have landed, and I have managed to snaffle -four of them to draw supplies from the Main Supply depot to our -divisional depot, both now at this end of the promontory. Transport at -this end of the promontory, if not too congested, only gets shelled at -very rare intervals during the day—not sufficient to stop its work. -Motor-lorries make the time that we take in drawing much shorter, and -I wonder that they were not at Helles. Before, we used A.T. carts for -this drawing here, and it took up practically the whole morning. - -We do not have such good targets as the Turks have. To them we are laid -out as a panorama, and to us they are dug in out of sight on the slopes -of rocky, almost impregnable fastnesses. - -To-day we have heard the boom of guns from the south, and there must be -a heavy bombardment going on there. - -The weather has broken, and we get a strong wind blowing each day -now, frequently developing into a gale. A cold wind is now and again -thrown in, and at nights we get a little rain. It is very rough, and -difficulty is being experienced in landing stuff. - -Told that good news will be published to-night. - - -_September 15th._ - -Heavy rain before breakfast this morning. Clears off later. - -Everybody busy digging in. Can see new airship going up at Imbros. It -has not yet made an active trip. _Prince George_ is firing with a heavy -list in order to get long range. Probably firing at Chanak. - - -_September 16th and 17th._ - -Each day the battleships, at odd intervals, fire at various targets on -shore—first, a small hill rising from the high ground on the Turkish -right, which we have named the Pimple, and on which Turkish batteries -are in position; next on Anafarta and Burnt Hill, behind Chocolate -Hill; next on to the slopes of Sari Bair. Our batteries on shore -occasionally fire off a few rounds. Owing, I suppose, to the fact that -there are hills in front of us, the sound of guns firing is louder than -it was at Helles. When our 18-pounder batteries on shore fire, the -noise of the report is very much like a door upstairs banging loudly on -a windy day. - -I am getting much fitter, and think it is because I manage to get a -bathe now and again. - -There is a good place where I bathe and often visit, not so very far -from our dugout. It is a little cove, plentifully besprinkled with -huge boulders and protected on all sides. We walk up the rugged slope -opposite our dugout to the top of the cliff. Then there is a difficult -descent down the sheer face of the cliff to the water’s edge. It seems -so odd, to be on this little patch of rock where we seem to leave -the war miles behind us. Then we hear it muttering and grumbling -in the hills above and behind us—sometimes, when least expected, a -battleship looses off with a roar that shakes the crags above us—but -we are safe, quite safe, as no shells can reach this spot; and so, in -the midst almost of this welter of blood, disease, and death, quite -light-heartedly we proceed to the most peaceful of pastimes—bathing. - -I go up to H.Q. after dinner and enjoy the walk, feeling ready for bed -when I return. - - -_September 18th._ - -It has been very quiet this morning. The work of getting supplies -on shore, carting them up to the Main Supply depot, and from there -to the several divisional depots, goes on now day and night like a -well-managed business. The Main Supply depot is rapidly accumulating -a reserve of supplies for us to fall back on should bad weather set -in and prevent us landing on some days. I learn that we now have -sufficient preserved food in the Main depot to feed 60,000 men and -5,000 animals on shore for a month, and soon there will be stores for -six weeks. - -At five o’clock the Turks sprang a surprise bombardment on to the -left of our line, and simultaneously, just as I was walking the few -yards from our Supply depot to our men, four 18-pounder shrapnel -burst overhead. All about the depot dive for cover, and many of them -rush into our dugout, it being the most handy. A minute only and four -more come, burst overhead, the bullets rattling on the shrapnel-proof -roof. Foley is with me; Way and Carver are up on the cliff in a safe -spot. Petro is up on the high ground behind our dugout, having gone -there to watch a battleship firing on to Burnt Hill, while Phillips -is down on the beach, looking after a water-cart. Never before have -we had 18-pounder shrapnel burst as far up the promontory as this, -and we are naturally surprised how the Turks could have pushed one of -their batteries so close up to get the range. As fast as we put our -heads out to see if Phillips or Petro is about, a salvo of four shells -arrives over, most of them bursting in the neighbourhood of our depot -and a few on the beach further over to the left. No one is about; all -have gone to ground like rabbits. They give it us hot and strong for -fifteen minutes, and then stop. All the time the battleships have -been firing, and I think must have got on to this particular battery. -We cautiously come out of our dugout and look about. Gradually men -all over the beaches appear from all directions and go about their -respective jobs. Petro turns up from a dugout close by, beaming all -over his face, and says that he had done a hundred yards’ sprint over -boulders and rocks in record time, at the finish making a beautiful -head-dive into the nearest dugout that he could see, on to a half-dozen -Tommies crouching inside. We then see Phillips limping up from the -beach, being helped by two Tommies. I run down to him, and we go to -the 11th Division Casualty Clearing Station. We unwind the puttee of -his left leg, which had been hit, when a shrapnel bullet rolls out -and runs along the floor like a marble. I pick it up and put it in -his pocket. It had drilled a hole clean through his leg, just above -the ankle, through which blood is pouring freely. He is bound up and, -though in great pain, perspiration pouring off his face, keeps smiling -and cheerful. One of the most painful parts of the body to be hit is -just above the ankle. When the first four shells burst he fell flat -behind a big boulder, which protected all of him but his long legs, -and after the third or fourth salvo he felt the sledge-hammer blow of -a bullet and knew he was hit. Lying there wounded while other shells -burst overhead was a beastly experience for him, and he thanked his -stars when it was all over. With one arm around my shoulder he leans on -me and slowly limps back to our dugout, I hoping that they won’t burst -out again. I lay him on my bed; the swarms of flies that are with us -always now buzz round the wound, which I cover up with muslin. I go up -to O’Hara to tell him, and find there some of our D.H.Q. Staff, just -back from the line, having had to clear quickly when the attack opened. - -When O’Hara gets back with me we find Phillips has gone off, assuring -the others that he will be back in a month. - -The Turkish gunners were too quick for old Phillips this time, giving -him no chance to read their minds. But thank the Lord he is wounded and -not gone West! I miss him to-night, and feel depressed, and wonder how -long I shall remain on this God-forsaken place or how long it will be -before my turn comes to get hit. - -It is now a beautiful moonlight night, quiet, calm, and still, and an -enemy aeroplane sails over, making a circle of the bay. - -I have got an idea that the old Turk is laughing at us now. - - -_September 19th._ - -A fairly quiet day. Beautiful calm moonlight night. Have to get water -up from “A” Beach to De Lisle’s Gully ready for the 86th, who arrive -to-morrow. Thank Heaven it is moonlight. Go up first to H.Q. of Brigade -by car. Country smells lovely. We have not been here long enough yet -to spoil the land. Hardly a rifle shot in front. Go over to De Lisle’s -Gully and back to D.H.Q., up to Brigade again, and once more; then -to the gully, arriving home at midnight. Actually enjoyed the trip, -but looking at the calm sea and moon, and the landscape of mountain -and gorse, with the continual chirping of the crickets, how I longed, -craved, and yearned for the day when Peace will be declared. - - -_September 20th._ - -Turks shell us unceasingly all morning, several shells coming near our -depot, but they are only light shells, and many of them do not explode. -A Newfoundland regiment joins our Brigade. They get shelled while on -the beach, just an hour after landing, and suffer casualties. They -appear to look upon it as a huge joke. - -Way and Carver come back. 86th Brigade due from Imbros to-morrow. Hear -that Captain Koebel, who came over with me from Alexandria at the end -of July, has died of wounds. We became great friends on board the -_Anglo-Egyptian_ in July. - -Go up to Brigade by night. Beautiful moonlight night again. Go up by -car. Nothing doing. Lachard joins us now in place of Phillips. - - -_September 21st._ - -Fairly quiet to-day so far. Though just as I go over to depot this -morning several shells fly overhead. Horrid feeling when you are in the -open. Very fine day, but flies terrible. All quiet on front. Exactly a -month now since last battle. - - -_September 22nd._ - -All quiet up to 3.30 p.m., when we had a very bad shelling, and there -were several casualties in the valley. Fortunately it only lasted half -an hour. Our men are busy making shrapnel-proof head cover. One gun -somewhere by Sari Bair is very fond of chucking over, to our camps -on this promontory, 5·9 shrapnel. One does not hear the boom of the -gun, which I think must be a howitzer. The first warning one has of -the thing coming is a sound like some one blowing with his lips very -softly. This gets louder and louder, until with a cat-like shriek and -bang it explodes over one’s head. Having to depend on being warned by -such a common sound is of course the cause of many false alarms. In -fact, a man blowing with his lips is sufficient to make another man -cock his ears and listen. - - -_September 23rd._ - -A quiet day, but for the usual cannonading on both sides, a few 5·9 -shrapnel shells coming our way at four in the afternoon. Reinforcements -arriving daily. A cold gale blowing all day. At six we have another -bout of shelling, while we are loading up A.T. carts, one shell -pitching right in our depot, and one of our poor chaps being badly hit, -from which he is not expected to recover. (He has since died. A nice -boy, only nineteen.) - - -_September 24th._ - -A quiet morning. News reaches us that Bulgaria is in, but whether -for us or against us is uncertain. Naturally, therefore, there is a -feeling of great anxiety prevalent. We hope to have more definite news -to-night. Heavy gale blowing this morning, calming down later. A very -quiet day, no shells coming our way. At Anzac, at eight to-night, a bit -of a severe battle took place, probably a Turkish attack. There was -a continual roar of musketry and shells bursting on the side of Sari -Bair. It was a surprise attack on the part of the New Zealanders, and -so far has proved successful. Firing developed along our front from -Chocolate Hill, and a feeble Turkish attack started in front of our -Brigade, the Worcesters taking the blow. It was with ease beaten off, -and died away after half an hour. We lost about twelve men. - - -_September 25th._ - -A quiet day; just the usual artillery duels, no shells coming our way. -Walked up to Brigade H.Q. in the evening. Battalion of the London -Regiment joins Brigade. Lovely moonlight night. Rather a lot of firing -on our front, and bullets a bit free. Meet Stewart and Lachard at -Brigade, Stewart having come to relieve Lachard, who is going back -to Helles. Walked back together. A bright flash from the _Swiftsure_ -in the bay denotes that she has fired one of her big guns, and a few -seconds after a loud report is heard, and the rumble of a shell as -it passed over Sari Bair on to “somewhere” goes on for a long time -before one hears the distant report of its burst. I hear the sound -of propellers overhead, and think I can see the airship from Imbros -sailing over towards Anafarta. The _Swiftsure_ fires once more, and -then all is quiet for an hour. Then a Turkish battery puts a shell over -to us, and follows this up with one every ten minutes, continuing for -an hour! - - -_September 26th._ - -Awakened in the morning by the 5·9 shrapnel coming over and bursting -overhead, and we are subjected to an hour of it. None of our men hit, -but about four mules hit. A beautiful day and sea calm; work of -unloading stores proceeds apace. Artillery duels, but no shells come -our way till four, when one shell bursts uncomfortably near. One feels -a bit shaky for an hour after such an event, but we have got to stick -it. - - -_September 27th._ - -A very fine day, but a trifle hot; the flies seem to be swarming more -than ever, and they are a great plague. Usual artillery duel from the -batteries on shore and the Fleet in the bay. Seeing a lot of Arthur -McDougall now, an awfully nice boy in Middlesex Yeomanry. Hear that -O’Hara, our D.A.Q.M.G., is leaving the Division. All of us very sorry -to lose him. Has got a lieutenant-colonelcy at G.H.Q., and deserves the -push up. At 7.30 p.m. a burst of rifle fire started at Chocolate Hill. -All the batteries on shore took it up; the warships in the bay joined -in—battleships and Monitors and the like—and such an infernal din is -now heard that the whole Peninsula seems to shake, and the evening sky -is studded with innumerable flashes, right away to Anzac and beyond. -It is very impressive, and lasts for an hour and a half. It turned out -to be all panic. There has been good news of the French in Champagne; -somebody in the trenches cheered—everybody else let his rifle off—and -then the whole pandemonium started! The Turk never replied at all, and -there was no attack; the moon shining peacefully above must have smiled -at the folly of man this night! - -Go up to Brigade with Carver and Stewart. Moonlight night, the bay -looking beautiful and quite enjoyable, except over the bullet-swept -area. Called at 86th H.Q. on the way back, and picked up Way, and had a -chat with Thomson, who had just come back from staying at Athens for a -few days. - - -_September 28th._ - -Wood, of the Essex Regiment, comes in early, and I give him a bed and -breakfast and have a long chat about life here. Has just come back -from a month’s leave. Now has his majority. Get up to see O’Hara off. -Peaceful morning; beaches represent hives of industry. Engineers busy -making a pier out of a sunken ship, their hammers reminding one of the -happy days of civilian life in the work towns of the North and Centre -of England. An Indian shepherd is guarding his flock of sheep (destined -to be slaughtered for the Indian troops) in front of our dugout on -the slopes of the hill, while the distant roar of guns can be heard -further south. Cooke arrives from Helles to join us. Hear that Collier -is leaving us, so that we are now without a major or a colonel. Go -up to H.Q. in car at nine, with a London Regiment officer and Arthur -McDougall. Very bumpy ride. Find Stewart there. A bullet has knocked -Stewart’s hat off, but he does not seem to be upset much, and when he -gets back just calmly sews up the two burnt holes. Getting water up to -troops still entailing a lot of worry and work. The water is pumped -from lighters through a pipe which dips into the sea. Yesterday water -was very salt, as sea-water had got in. Was very ill in the night -through this. Called up in night as water-carts had gone to wrong place -and a further supply had to be sent up. This water business is the -worst of all. All the animals have to be taken down to water at the -usual times. A Transport Officer from the depot here, who has been down -to see me once or twice on business, has told me that in his opinion -the most trying duty of all is seeing the animals watered. The troughs -are in full sight of the Turkish gunners, and the long lines of dust -emerging from the transport gully give the clue. He tells me that this -is when he gets jumpy. Absolutely in the open—water trickling into the -troughs slowly—and he has to stand and see that every beast has enough. -Then the shelling starts—mules fall, but still the others must have -their fill and not be _hurried_, and it seems like hours, and some of -the beasts all unconscious—appearing as if they will never finish. It -must be a merry job—and it has to be done three times a day. An officer -has to be present, or the overwhelming temptation to hurry up and get -off becomes too much for the men, and no wonder! - - -_September 29th._ - -Camp Commandant comes to inform us that we have to clear out of our -place, which is comparatively safe, and move to an exposed position -further inland, in full view of the Turks. We shall be absolutely -shelled out if we have a Supply depot there, with A.T. carts and -motor-lorries coming to and fro from Main Supply depot all day, and it -will cripple our work. Hope to get this order cancelled. - -Have told D.H.Q., who have promised to see Camp Commandant. Usual -artillery firing all day, and ship’s guns joining in. Submarines have -been busy. One French transport sunk and two British—one empty and one -containing Gurkhas and Punjabis. _Swiftsure_ had a narrow escape the -other day, two torpedoes just missing her. - - -_September 30th._ - -A very fine day, not a cloud in the sky; very hot, and flies, now -in myriads, perfectly appalling. See Camp Commandant as to moving -our Supply depot to the exposed part of the Peninsula. Finally he -gives way, and finds another and safer place for us at the foot of IX -Corps Gully. Hardly any shelling from Turks, but our guns busy and -battleships as well. Go up to Brigade in evening. Quiet night, and so -ends September, a deadly month. No movement on our part all the month: -no action, except little mirror stunts such as straightening our line, -digging saps, bombing expeditions, and artillery duels. All the time we -steadily lose killed and wounded and a seriously large percentage of -sick, and we drift and drift on. - -_To where?_ - - - - -OCTOBER - - -_October 1st._ - -A very misty morning, everything hidden in the valleys, also the ships -in the harbour. At one o’clock we are shelled by high explosives -and 5·9 shrapnel, and it lasts an hour; very unpleasant. I hate the -shelling more and more as time goes on. - -Some mysterious move is going on. The 87th, now at Imbros, have wired -for their machine guns, and rumours that troops have left here during -the last two nights are about. Has Bulgaria come in against us? - - -_October 2nd._ - -A beautiful cool summer day, but flies still swarming about. Artillery -very busy on our side. In afternoon walk up with Stewart to Brigade -H.Q. Beautiful country walk through gorse, little hills and dales, -trees and olive groves. On arrival at Brigade H.Q. and looking back, -the scene is beautiful, with the bay shimmering in the sun and the -Fleet and transports lying at anchor. The formidable hills in front -look beautiful also, and hardly a rifle shot comes from the Turkish -lines. But all the time our shore batteries and the ships are booming -away, but feebly replied to by the Turks. On the way up we just miss -coming under the beastly 5·9 shrapnel. We stay to tea with Hadow, the -Staff Captain, now Major, and after have a nice walk back. Arriving -on the promontory, we see them shelling the road that we have passed -along. We find on our return that the beaches had been “strafed” again -by high explosives, killing and wounding a few. - - -_October 3rd._ - -A quiet, beautiful Sunday morning, the sea like glass. I have lunch -with McDougall half-way up the high ground of the promontory, outside -his dugout, right behind large boulders of stone. He provides us an -excellent lunch, and we might be on holiday together. No firing of any -kind. After lunch, however, shore batteries and ships get active, while -the distant rumble of guns is heard from Helles. At four we have our -daily ration of the 5·9 shrapnel or “Whistling Rufus.” - -We move our Supply depot up to the foot of the gully at the head of -which is IX Corps H.Q. - - -_October 4th._ - -Heavy Turkish bombardment takes place at nine o’clock this morning over -Anzac, developing towards Chocolate Hill. At ten, rifle fire starts, -denoting a Turkish attack, but in half an hour it dies away, the -Turks having been beaten off. During this time we are shelled by high -explosives, and remaining in our dugouts, as we hear each shell coming -over our way we cannot help gently ducking our heads. It is instinct, -but yet very funny. We must look like nodding Chinese idols. - -In the afternoon we have 9-inch shells thrown over to us, but it only -lasts half an hour. Go up to Brigade H.Q.; not much firing in front. - - -_October 5th._ - -A beautiful summer day again. Turks shell us from 8 a.m. till 10 -a.m., but all duds. No news, and no prospect of any progress in this -campaign. Our aeroplanes up. - -At 9.30 a.m. the Turks begin and are very busy all day with their -shells. Our batteries do not reply much, and the battleships are -practically silent all day. We have no shrapnel, though, but at four -o’clock about a dozen 9-inch high explosives come over, and rather too -near us to be pleasant. One shell pitched right in one of my battalion -dumps, the 1st London, just arrived from Malta, and attached to our -Brigade. We are therefore moving them to a safer place. - -In our camp now we have the two Supply Sections of the 86th and -88th Brigades and representatives of each regiment in the Brigades, -consisting of a Quartermaster or his sergeant, and a corporal and -three privates. They look after the interests of their respective -regiments on the beach, drawing supplies, ordnance, R.E. stores, -letters, and baggage, which they escort up to the regiment each night -by the mule-carts. New officers arriving and officers returning from -hospital use our camp as a half-way house to the trenches. All drafts -arriving are met by these battalions’ representatives and “looked -after” generally by day and guided to their units by night. - -Had a lovely bathe this morning with McDougall, Tooth, Carver, and Way -at the foot of the cliffs. Very peaceful and beautiful, and it was -hard to realize that there was a war on. In the far distance, across -the Gulf of Saros could just be discerned the coast of Bulgaria, the -country on which the eyes of all the world are turned at the moment. In -a day or two we shall know whether she has joined our enemies or not. - - -_October 6th._ - -Woke up at seven by a shell whistling over our dugout, but no more -follow. Curious how, when one is sleepy, shells do not strike fear in -one. A perfect summer morning. Artillery on our side very active. Go on -board _Swiftsure_ for lunch with Carver. Guest of Fleet-Surgeon Jeans, -a charming little man. Had a glass of beer! And the lunch! Nice white -tablecloth, attentive stewards, excellent food, and cheery society. -Topping fellows. Half an hour after lunch have a “pukka” hot bath. The -luxury thereof! And then take snapshots of the ship and of a group of -officers. We get a good view of Suvla from the deck: the sandy beach, -and to the left the three landing-places, crowded with lighters, -launches, etc., and with khaki figures. Further to the left, the rocky -part with its fringe of surf, and the frowning crags above towering -away in masses into the blue distance. Behind the landing-places the -ground slopes abruptly up to the gorges, crowded with dugouts and -transport lines. To the right, Lala Baba with its sandy cliffs and the -low plateau beyond, with the Salt Lake, stand out clearly. Further to -the right one catches a glimpse of “C” Beach, with its white hospital -tents along the sea’s rim, and in the offing, silent and slim, loom -the three hospital ships taking in their freight of broken humanity. -There are never less than three such ships of mercy here, which gives -one some idea of the daily human wastage, when one remembers that they -are big P. & O. and B. I. liners. We are told by one of the Gunnery -Lieutenants that at 4 p.m. ship is going to fire on a blockhouse just -by the Pimple, on the left of our line. While on board, the ship’s guns -“loose” off. It is a curious sensation. We watch their shells bursting -inland, and realize for the first time the difference between shelling -and being shelled. Get back on smart pinnace at 2.30. Get shelled a -bit at 3.30. Go up to British H.Q. to watch the Pimple bombardment. -At four precisely _Swiftsure_ poops off with 12-inch and 6-inch guns. -Also _Prince George_ and a Monitor, and the shore batteries. Up the -Gulf of Saros a torpedo-boat destroyer and Monitor are firing in flank. -Poor old Pimple! Can’t see it for dust and smoke. _Prince George_ -has a premature burst, splinters doing ducks and drakes across the -bay. Hear machine guns at five. Cease fire at six, and we go back -home. The little coves at end of point are now absolutely altered -from their original geographical formation by the Engineers during -the past months. Breakwaters, piers, dugout offices, stores depots, -landing-stages, etc., have come into being, and they are now hives of -industry, never slacking night and day. As at Helles, star shells sail -up and down gently all night along our line. In the darkness of the sky -over Sari Bair, the reflection of the rays of Chanak searchlight plays, -but not so brightly as seen from Helles. - - -_October 7th._ - -Ships firing very early this morning. _Swiftsure_ left last night. -Soon after ten this morning Turkish 8·2 gun opens fire on the _Prince -George_, and at the third shot hit her. _Prince George_ and the other -ship open fire. Later the _Prince George_ is hit again, this time just -beneath the funnels, causing wreckage among boats. She alters her -position, the duel still continuing. She is hit twice again, and then -moves further out. Turkish gun then shuts up. Soon after 11 a.m. the -5·9 shrapnel comes whistling over to us, and nine of them, one after -the other, at short intervals of two or three minutes, burst over our -camp and the beaches, causing casualties. A beautiful summer day again, -but flies as bad as ever. - -I walk with Way to Brigade, his Brigade H.Q. having moved just in front -of ours. As we go up we hear a whopping big shell go over to the beach, -and looking back, we see it burst, kicking up a great deal of dust. -Have tea with Thomson and General Percival. Afterwards call in at 88th, -and walk back at dark. A bullet hits a bush at Way’s feet just as we -are walking over the little bit of hillock after leaving 88th H.Q. -A few others drop near by. Way tells me that when bullets are about -his head always feels ten times as big as it really is. Yet he never -worries at all when shells are about. It is curious, but shells make me -feel very uneasy and limp, while bullets don’t bother me at all now. -The ways of nerves are difficult to understand. When we arrive back we -find that the beaches have been strafed a lot in our absence. - - -_9 p.m._ - -A bit of a strafe is taking place at Anzac, heavy rifle fire and shells -bursting. Very fine sight, seeing the white flashes of flame bursting -out of the black night. - - -_October 8th._ - -All to-day there have been ceaseless artillery duels, warships and -shore batteries taking part. Never before have we had such shelling -from the Turks at Suvla. It has been one continual roar of guns from -early morning till dusk. At last, dusk arrives, which is welcomed with -general thanksgiving by the majority on the beach. News has just come -in that Bulgaria and Russia are practically at war, and this means -that in a few days Bulgaria will be an active enemy of ourselves as -well. The Bulgars no doubt will join the Turks at once, and life on the -beaches will become a hell in the true sense of the word. I hope that -we shall keep our end up and not be ignominiously defeated on this -Peninsula. There have been about sixty casualties to-day, killed and -wounded. Yet the work on the beach has to go steadily on all the time. -It has been much colder to-day, and some rain has fallen. At night we -have very heavy rain. - - -_October 9th._ - -A cool summer day. Shelled at 9.30 p.m. Troops arrive in large numbers. -They should have arrived last night at dark, but it was too rough to -land. Lord Howard de Walden comes down with news that drafts have -arrived unexpectedly for us as well, and we have to prepare for them. -Cannot reconcile the arrival of all these troops with the opinion that -we are here for the winter. Looks as if we are going to have another -battle. Turks very quiet this morning, yet they must see all these -troops arriving. We wonder that they do not shell them. - -Go up to 86th and 88th Brigades with Way in the afternoon, and it makes -a very pleasant walk. Delightful country, and up at the Brigades it -seems quite restful after the shelled beaches. Pass General de Lisle on -the way up. Have tea at 86th, and call at 88th on the way back. General -Cayley had a narrow squeak, a splinter of the case of shrapnel coming -right through the roof of his dugout, just missing his head by inches. -He won’t have his roof sand-bagged. Water question for our Division now -settled, as we have found wells all over the place. - -Just as it is getting dusk 8·2 Turkish gun opens fire on H.M.S. -_Glory_, but does not hit her, and _Prince George_ replies. Walker -arrives from Helles. I am now O.C. the 29th Division A.S.C. at Suvla, -as Carver has gone back to Helles. Large coveys of birds—I think they -are duck and crane—keep on swooping about over the Peninsula, and our -Tommies pot at them now and again. - - -_October 10th._ - -Colder this morning—but flies still damnable. Usual artillery duels, -but not so heavy as usual. Several officers leaving to join Allied -troops at Salonica. But later we hear that they have not been allowed -to land, as it is uncertain whether Greece is coming in against us. -Not much shelling all day. Colonel Ekin, 1st London, arrives at night -and we put him up, giving him dinner and a bed in our dugout. Very -decent old boy. He comes along with the most wonderful rumours, which -we drink in. - - -_October 11th._ - -Very cloudy. Mule Corps at end of promontory get shelled at ten o’clock -for half an hour. Starts to rain at 11.30, and looks as if it is going -to set in in earnest. Salt Lake already under water in some parts, -and if we have a season of rain, it will be a lake in the full sense -of the word, and it will be difficult getting supplies, etc., to the -lines immediately in front of Chocolate Hill. Walked up with Way again -to Brigade H.Q. Beautiful cool, sunny afternoon after the rain. Had -tea with the General at 88th, meeting there our friend of last night, -Colonel Ekin. Morris, Machine Gun Officer, also there in great form, -telling us all about his indirect gun-fire stunts. Hides his little -batteries in a very clever way with gorse, the men wearing green masks. -Colonel Fuller, going round the trenches the other day, could not make -out where the sound of a machine gun popping off quite close to him -was coming from. He was ten yards away only; it was one of Morris’s -efforts. After the bit of a bombardment the other day on the Pimple, -during which the Turks were driven out of a redoubt, Morris’s men -bagged fifty Turks by indirect fire. He makes your flesh creep by the -cold-blooded way in which he describes his stunts, but if one thinks of -Turks as partridges it is not so bad. However, we can do with dozens -more Morrises. - -After, go on to see 86th and have a rag with little Reid, Signal -Officer to 86th, aged nineteen, but looks only sixteen. - -Trenches dug through most beautiful country—olive groves, fig-trees, -and vineyards. Grape season over now, but often Tommy climbed out -of his trench and helped himself, risking Turkish bullets fired at -only a hundred yards away. The blackberry season is now on, and they -are so tempting that venturesome spirits—little Reid himself proving -guilty—climb out after these also. - -Looking back from the 86th Brigade H.Q., one can see the gorse-covered -hills, the beautiful, thickly wooded valleys, while through the trees -are peeps of Suvla Bay with the grey warships at anchor there. Further -out, beautiful Imbros stands out sharp against the setting sun, backed -by a sky of golden-bronze, with feathery purple clouds trailing across -the firmament; the new moon—a delicate crystal crescent—swings above, -dimly reflected in the dimpling waters. - -A battleship flashes out, followed by a loud report, and looking -towards Anafarta, just over the hills, one sees a monster flash of fire -followed by a muffled report. - - -_October 12th._ - -Very busy with shelling this morning. Quite a lot of 5·9 shrapnel -coming over to our valley, and almost every shell accounts for a -casualty. About twenty casualties in half an hour, Sir Randolph Baker -being amongst the number, but he was only wounded slightly; and a -rather nice Naval Landing Officer had a piece taken out of his arm. -Also we had a few 4·7 shells over, and at noon they started with their -8·2—a terrifying shell. - -Every one this morning very depressed at the news of the advance of -Germans on Serbia and Bulgaria’s attitude. Greece and Roumania are -disappointing factors. I hope for the sake of this Gallipoli campaign -that they come in on our side. - -After lunch I go up to the Barrier on the rise of ground on the west -road leading to Lone Tree Gully, just two hundred yards this side, -to see about some bombs which have to be removed. On the way back, -the 18-pounder battery which is in position on the right of the road -looking seaward is in action, and the report of the guns, being so -near, is ear-splitting. I turn round to watch the shrapnel, beautifully -placed on and about the Turkish second line. Evidently the officer -in the O.P. has spotted some movement of the troops up communication -trench. Probably a relief party. - -[Illustration: 4·5 HOWITZER IN ACTION, SUVLA BAY.] - -[Illustration: 29TH DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS, SUVLA BAY, HIDDEN FROM THE -ENEMY BY THE SLOPE OF THE HILL.] - -I turn to my left and trip down the rocky hillock leading to the C.R.E. -camp, in the place where D.H.Q. was to be after the Chocolate Hill -battle, and where the bombs from the Barrier have to go. - -I come back along the lower road which leads to our D.H.Q., and which -is now called the Gibraltar road, as it leads to the small hill we have -called Gibraltar, which lies between our first line and 86th H.Q. On -the way I meet the 88th Chaplain, and we walk back together. Behind us -we hear three tremendous explosions over to the left of Chocolate Hill, -and looking back, see columns of smoke and dust. They are caused by -Turkish aerial torpedoes bursting in our front line, equivalent to a -hundred-pound shell, and terribly effective. Fortunately, they appear -to have very few of them, but we have none at all. There have been -sixty-three casualties on the beach to-day through Turkish gun fire and -shrapnel. At night a great gale springs up, and we have heavy rain, -many men being washed out of their dugouts, having to spend the night -in their wet clothes on the hills. - -A navvy’s battalion has arrived. - - -_October 13th._ - -A fine day, but a very strong, cold wind blowing down the Peninsula. -Arthur McDougall has now rejoined his regiment in the trenches. We have -now a black cat in our establishment. It walked in, and we do not know -where it came from. Probably off one of the boats. - -We were shelled with the 5·9 at eight this morning, and had about six -casualties in this valley. They were, however, very quiet for the -rest of the morning. Just as Way, Cox, Baxter, and I were leaving for -Brigade, they started to shell, and we were glad to get off the open -space of the beaches. Now they have three guns firing 5·9 shrapnel at -us, and they come over in threes, usually bagging somebody. The Turks -seem to be getting very cocky lately. They actually cleared away all -the barbed wire that one of our battalions in the 88th had put in -front of our trenches, only fifteen yards in front. Also their bombing -parties are getting very daring, creeping up each night to within -throwing distance of our trenches. - -Barbed-wire lines and trenches are now being constructed further back -towards the coast—in case! - -As we are up at Brigade H.Q., we notice one of our aeroplanes swoop -down on to the Salt Lake, obviously having to make a forced landing. -A short pause, during which we notice the pilot and observer climb -out, when suddenly shrapnel bursts over the machine and very near. It -is quickly followed by another and another, and later high explosive -shells, when the pilot and the observer scurry away pretty quickly. -They are wise, for the Turkish artillery are now well on to the -machine, which is rapidly becoming a helpless wreck. I should think -they put a hundred shells on that machine before they stopped. - - -_October 14th._ - -Last night they tried to disturb our rest by putting one shell over to -us every hour. One seemed to come very near our dugout, but we were too -sleepy to bother. What’s the good? - -At eight this morning they get very busy again with their shelling, and -at nine three of the big deadly shrapnel come over at once, followed a -few minutes after by three more, and then later still another three. -It is evident that they cannot spare very many of these every day, but -after each bout the cry of “Stretcher-bearers!” is shouted down the -valley. Shortly after, the wounded are carried away to the hospital, -and this scene has now become a painfully familiar one. - -It is very cold to-day, and the gale still continues, hampering the -Navy’s work of landing stores. - -The afternoon was quiet. A great gale sprang up at dark and blew hard -all night. It is now very cold. One consolation, flies are dying off. - - -_October 15th._ - -To-day has been cold and cloudy, with a strong wind. Artillery duels -all day, with ships joining in. We were shelled this afternoon, but -fortunately to-day had no 5·9 shrapnel. Cox and Gennison came to tea, -and Walker and myself walked back with them. Called in at Brigade H.Q. -Hear that now we are at war with Bulgaria. - - -_October 16th._ - -At five this morning (dawn) the Turks began a general bombardment, -chiefly on our right (Chocolate Hill) and at Anzac, but the subsequent -attack on their part seemed to die away quickly. No news as to results. - -At 11 a.m. an enemy aeroplane sails over. Our two anti-aircraft guns -on shore start firing, and make such good practice that the machine -quickly gets out of range and sails over towards Anzac, disappearing -suddenly into the clouds. Many thought that she had been brought -down, and a great cheer goes up and clapping of hands. Shortly after, -however, she is seen coming back over the bay once more, flying low. -H.M.S. _Glory_ and _Canopus_ fire with their anti-aircraft guns, but -wide of the mark. She turns and sails up inland once more, perilously -close to our shore anti-aircraft guns, which make excellent practice. -One shell bursts dangerously near the machine, whereupon she dives, -swings to the right, and climbing again, sails over Chocolate Hill. -When over our trenches heavy rifle and machine gun fire break out at -her, but she sails calmly on over Sari Bair to her base behind in -safety. Result, honours with the enemy pilot, a damned cool customer, -but a very nasty trip for him. It lasts under ten minutes, so that -he has not much time for observing, but no doubt time enough for his -purpose. The rest of the day we have the usual artillery duels, rather -heavier than usual, and at 3.20 p.m., and again at five, we have our -usual shelling by our old friend “Whistling Rufus.” - - -_October 17th._ - -At nine this morning the Turks very heavily bombarded our reserve lines -and our batteries on our left. They were very prodigal of ammunition, -showing that their supply had been replenished, probably from Bulgaria. -They put in some very large stuff, 9-inch at least, and at very long -range. Our batteries and ships were active in reply. It is cold and -windy and raining. - -Went up to Brigade with Way, and later to 86th, where the Padre was -holding Sunday service. Beach shelled a little while we were away. - -To-morrow is the great Mohammedan feast-day, and we expect a general -attack on the part of the Turks. - - -_October 18th._ - -Rainy morning. Bit of shelling in morning and early afternoon, but not -very damaging shells. - -At four they started dropping large shells, about 11-inch, which -whistled over with a tremendous shriek and burst with a thunderous -crack. They must have come a long way, as we could not hear the report -of the gun. They were bursting too near for our liking, and we were -glad when they stopped. Some say they came from the _Goeben_. They -finished up their bout with 5·9 shrapnel. So far no attack by the Turks. - -News that Sir Ian Hamilton is going and that General Munro is taking -his place reaches us. - - -_October 19th._ - -A quiet morning, but at four we were shelled as usual. Not much damage. - - -_October 20th, 2 p.m._ - -Quiet so far to-day, except for a bit of shelling this morning. News -reaches us that the 10th Division, who were here in August, are at -Salonika, whether interned or not we do not know. Turkish festival -still on, and I believe it ends to-morrow. They make a row in their -trenches at odd times of the day by the shouting of “Allah” and the -ringing of bells. Sometimes our men, for a joke, throw jam-tins full of -jam into the Turkish trenches. This happening to-day, the Turks thought -that we were throwing bombs, instead of four harmless tins of jam, and -they promptly threw back two bombs. Whereupon we have to throw six -bombs back. This quietened them. Later, however, they threw the four -jam-tins back—empty—having eaten their contents. - - -_October 21st._ - -A very heavy gale blowing all day from the north-west. Sky heavy with -rain, but wind too high to allow rain to fall. Heavy shelling all -morning for three hours without stopping, and again in afternoon. None -near our patch. We get the shrapnel, however, from “Whistling Rufus,” -which is more comprehensive. - -Enemy aeroplane, in spite of gale, is over this morning. Anti-aircraft -guns fire—and miss! - - -_October 22nd._ - -A great gale blew all night, and is still blowing. Cold and cloudy. -Artillery duels going on as usual. Not much shelling on this beach. At -four, we have three of the 5·9 shrapnel over our little corner. One -could not hear them coming, because of the gale. - - -_October 23rd._ - -Beaches shelled a bit this morning. Gale continues all day, and it is -very cold. Soon after four we are shrapnelled once more, having about -ten large ones over in a period of half an hour, causing casualties. -The gale prevents anybody hearing them coming. Go up to Brigade H.Q., -and it is hard work walking against the wind. Country looking bleak and -miserable. Come back on motor-ambulance. At night I am up at the C.R.E. -nullah forming a forward dump of reserve rations. We have to work in a -cold, driving rain. - - -_October 24th._ - -Gale still continues. Flights of birds, which had collected in great -numbers some few days ago, now seem all to have left. Has been raining -all morning. Very little shelling from Turks. - -Go up to Brigade H.Q. and have tea. Gale dies down towards evening. -Beautiful colouring of sky over the sea. A background of grey rain -clouds, golden-buff coloured strips of sky, grey sea, against which are -silhouetted sepia-coloured trees and gorse-bushes. Imbros, now grey -as the sea, is always in the picture—the eternal picture in which is -painted our monotonous life on Gallipoli. We are waiting, waiting, with -no news, and some of us are saying with no hope. These latter, however, -suffer from “tummy” troubles. - - -_October 25th._ - -Six months ago to-day I landed at Helles—it seems like six years. -To-day we are still an hour’s walk from the sea to the front trenches, -at all three landings. This morning is a cool, beautiful summer -morning. Flies seem to come again from somewhere, but not so bad as -before, yet sufficient to be called a pest in England. Usual artillery -duels all day, and we are shrapnelled again in the afternoon. At 6 p.m. -go up to C.R.E. dump about the reserve rations we are putting there. -Cloudy evening. - - -_October 26th._ - -A cool, fine morning, rather cloudy. Birds again flying in large coveys -overhead—wild geese and crane, etc.; men fire at them, though it is -strictly against orders. Hardly any artillery duels in morning. Go up -to C.R.E. dump with Major Fraser, and later, leaving him, go on to -Brigade and have tea. Adjutant of Worcesters, who was wounded in the -landing in April, and who has been back in England, was there. We who -have been out here all the time look upon those who have been back in -England with great interest. - -After tea, Morris, the Machine Gun Officer, takes me out to see his -machine gun emplacements on Gun Hill, which is a little hill lying some -two hundred yards behind our front-line trenches, the ground on its -left rising steeply to the high ridge overlooking the sea, and on its -right sloping gently down to the low land. - -We pass the Worcester Regiment in the reserve trenches dug in an open -space on the left of Brigade H.Q. looking inshore; then we pass down -a communication trench, coming out into an open space behind a small -mound called Gibraltar, round which we pass down a slope leading to a -rocky ravine filled with large boulders, a few trees, and patches of -thick gorse-bush. There the Hampshire Regiment are dug in. - -To the left of the ravine are a few graves, and now and again a bullet -kicks up the dust close by them. Smith, the Hampshire Quartermaster, -jokingly informs me of a certain way of getting a cushy Blighty wound. -If I want one, all I have to do is to stand by these graves after dark, -and wait. In under two hours, most probably in five minutes of waiting, -I shall get one in the leg. The bullets come from a Turkish trench high -up on the cliff-side on our left front. To the right of the ravine one -is safe, protected by a rise in the ground. On the left of the ravine -one is in constant danger of a smack from a bullet, and more so at -night. - -We continue our way, passing down another trench, and shortly after -come out into the open in a lovely glade of grass and trees situated in -dead ground, protected by a little hill in front called Gun Hill. On -its slopes we once more enter a trench, which encircles the hill, very -similar to the ramparts of an ancient castle. It is a little fortress -on its own, standing aloof from the system of trenches situated behind -our front line, but in front of our support line, yet blending in with -the uneven lie of the land, thereby not making a conspicuous target. At -intervals are machine gun emplacements, with machine guns in position, -pointing through apertures in the sand-bagged breastwork. At the first -that we come to we find the sentry not looking out. I shall never -forget the frightened look on his face as it meets Morris’s suddenly -appearing around the corner of the sand-bagged wall a few inches from -him. He gets a stiff “strafing.” We continue our way, and at the next -emplacement come upon a sentry who presents a unique object. For his -head is covered by a sand-bag, through which are holes made for his -eyes and mouth. To this headgear are fixed sprigs of gorse-bush, and -as he stands stock-still, with his head and shoulders filling the gap -in the breastwork, it must be impossible for an enemy observer to -detect his presence from the background of gorse and trees. Yet if he -is detected a sniper has him for a dead certainty. It is so far safe -for such sentries, however, for up to now no casualties have occurred -amongst them from a sniper’s rifle. - -Morris asks, “Is everything O.K.?” and the sentry, without looking -round, replies, “All’s well, sir.” - -I stand beside the sentry and look at the view in front of me—a -beautiful view of sloping hills up to the heights of the cliffs which -overlook the sea; and on their slopes I see distinctly the irregular -light-brown lines of thrown-up earth, denoting the Turks’ front-line -trenches and ours, running opposite each other to the summit of the -cliffs, about three hundred yards apart. - -We are six hundred yards from the enemy line, and can be certain -victims for a Turkish sniper should he be aware of our presence. - -From this position at night sometimes the Turk receives the contents of -belt after belt of machine gun ammunition poured on to his second and -third line and communication trenches by indirect fire, ranged by day, -causing him great inconvenience and to wonder from where the bullets -come. - -Our front line is always warned when any such stunt is on, so that -they may not arrange for their working parties or patrols to be out in -front. Looking at the country in front of me, I can see that here on -these rugged slopes the Turk would have but short shrift if he attacked -us—as of course would we if we attacked. Result, deadlock, like two -cats spitting and sparring at each other. Morris says he is always -pleased to show people round his pet hobby. I was immensely interested, -and Morris might have been showing me round a farm. - -We come back in the gloaming, Morris now and again stopping to order -paper and litter to be picked up, for General de Lisle is around here -frequently, and has the eye of a hawk. - - -_October 27th._ - -A fine morning, with a very warm and strong wind, almost a gale, -blowing from the sea. Smith, of Hampshires, pays us a visit, and as -we sit in our dugout we hear “Whistling Rufus” coming over from Sari -Bair. One corner of the roof over our dugout is only of tarpaulin, -for corrugated iron is scarce. Rumour says that a ship which set out -from England loaded with corrugated iron has been torpedoed and sunk. -An officer, newly arrived, who is sitting with us, appears to rather -scorn my advice to move from where he is sitting under the tarpaulin, -which is of no protection to him from shrapnel bullets, when, “Crash” -from “Whistling Rufus” is heard overhead, and the sound of bullets -spattering on our roof follows immediately after, just as if an unseen -hand with a bowl of pebbles had taken a handful and thrown them with -violence down on to our abode. A shirt hanging outside on a line to dry -receives two bullets through its tail, causing large rents. The new -officer immediately gets up from where he is sitting and comes round -to our side of the table, where we sit under a roof of corrugated iron -with a layer of sand-bags on top, safe from everything but a direct hit. - -This 5·9 shrapnel is followed by others, and in the distance we hear -the roar of Turkish artillery and bursting shrapnel. “Whistling Rufus” -ceases worrying us after a while, and we go up to behind our dugout and -look inland at the Turkish shelling. All along our line and behind, -Turkish shrapnel is bursting thickly, being more concentrated over -Chocolate Hill and on Hill 10, which is situated on the left of the -Salt Lake and half a mile from “B” Beach. - -About half an hour after, we hear rifle fire, which dies down quickly, -and all is quiet. What it was all about I do not know. Probably the end -of the Turkish festival, or probably Enver Pasha has paid a visit, and, -sitting on top of Sari Bair, has asked for a show to be demonstrated -to him. I must say such a show, viewed from the top of Sari Bair, must -appear a wonderful sight. - - -_October 28th._ - -A hot, sultry day, and the flies a pest. A very quiet morning. No -news. Hardly any shelling on the part of the Turk, but our artillery -and ships’ guns fairly active. I go up to Brigade H.Q. to tea, and -after, on the way back, call in at the 88th Field Ambulance, situated -in a tent encampment on a plateau lying between Karakol Dagh and the -Turkish positions. Here the situation is most interesting. The white -tents and marquees are in full view of the Turks, and not a shot comes -near, for John Turk plays the game. It is almost like living in a -garden city, with the open country all round, and the feeling one gets -is very odd—so near to war and yet so far! Patients rest quite at their -ease in their walls of canvas, while over their heads, singing their -dread song, the Turkish shells pass on their way to the beaches. - - -_October 29th._ - -A hot day, and flies very trying. Turks busy with artillery at -Chocolate Hill and Anzac. Our artillery busily replying. Nothing our -way. Heard firing off coast of Bulgaria last night. Our artillery have -been very active all day, and are still firing, although it is dark. We -have now several new batteries ashore, and for the past few days the -Turk has been very quiet. We had only two shells over our way to-day. -Our artillery seems to be getting well on top. Munro has arrived, all -good luck to him. Now perhaps we shall get a move on. We feel now, -either move on or off. But Heaven defend us from the inaction and waste -of time of the last six months! Stewart has gone off, suffering very -badly with dysentery. He was stubborn about it, and would not see the -doctor, until at last he had to be carried off on a stretcher. I shall -miss him very much, as he was good company. - - -_October 30th._ - -A hot summer day, and flies a plague. The Division has sustained a -sad loss to-day. Algy Wood, of the Essex, has gone West. He had been -through everything since the landing, and at noon to-day was shot in -the throat while in the support trench near his “orderly room.” He -became a friend of mine, as he became a friend of all he met, and I -have often referred to him in my Diary. He just had time to say to his -sergeant-major, who went to him, “I’m finished, sergeant-major,” and -then died. A name that will never be forgotten by the survivors of the -29th Division. Nearly all the best have gone now. Lord Howard de Walden -comes into our dugout in the evening and has a chat; he is our D.A.A. -and Q.M.G., and very popular. Munro is ashore to-day with Staff for a -pow-wow at IX Corps H.Q. No news from Salonica. - - -_October 31st._ - -Another summer day. Hardly any shelling on our part, and absolutely -none on the part of the Turk. And so ends October, a monotonous, dreary -month. Phew! how many more such months? - - - - - NOVEMBER - - -_November 1st._ - -Last night was very rough, and several lighters were wrecked on the -beach. We also lost a destroyer, which ran on the rocks just off West -Beach. No loss of life. - -A cool summer day again, and no shelling from the Turks this morning. -Flies not quite so bad, but still a plague. They have become persistent, -fat, sleepy ones now. No shelling from the Turks at all, and our -artillery hardly fire a shot. - - -_November 2nd._ - -A few shells only this morning. A beautiful summer day, but flies badly -worrying. A battery has been put on the road just by the rise before -80th Brigade H.Q. Destroyer which ran on the rocks yesterday still in -the same position. - - -_November 3rd._ - -After breakfast, having arranged for a visit round the trenches with -Panton, the D.A.D.M.S., I go up to D.H.Q. at the top of our gully. We -start off, accompanied by Lord Howard de Walden, pass through the 88th -Field Ambulance camp, dip down on to the beach road, and after a short -way along bear to the right on to Gibraltar road. Instead of walking -up along the Gibraltar road, as has been the practice of most of us up -to now, we bear to the right through the low wooded country between -Gibraltar road and Hill 10. We cross the newly made line of trenches, -with barbed wire thickly laid in front, passing a bombing school on our -left. Turkish bullets fired at a high elevation just reach this point, -dropping with spent velocity. As we walk through the almond-trees just -beyond, the guns of the two battleships bang out suddenly. We hear the -great shells shrieking over our heads, and see them burst with violence -over Burnt Hill on our right front. Passing the almond-trees, we make -a detour to the left, arriving in the open space which leads to 86th -Brigade H.Q. Panton stops here at an advanced dressing station, and -while we wait for him a few bullets sing overhead. But there is never -very much rifle fire in the daytime. We then dip down into “C.C.” -communication trench, and follow its windings to the line. We pass over -one or two bridges crossing large drains that have been dug to drain -the trenches when the wet weather comes. We are warned by the formation -of the irregular hills, nullahs, and ravines, and the great boulders -of stone standing out of the ground, that at some time during the year -rain falls in great quantities. What will our trenches be like on the -low ground when that time does come? Salt Lake on our left gradually -sinking under water answers that question. We see shrapnel bursting low -over that part of the line we are making for, and I have a desire to -turn my coat-collar up. I always do when I am near shells. Why, I don’t -know. We arrive at the support trench, in which are the Munsters and -Dublin Fusiliers. I see a few men clustered together in the trench at a -small entrance leading to a dugout. One comes out from the dugout, and -says, “By Jasus! the poor lad’s gone.” A man had been hit by shrapnel, -and had just died, after about twenty minutes. We continue on, and on -arrival at the Essex Regiment I inquire where Algy Wood had been hit. I -am taken up a short trench which turns sharply to the left, coming to -an abrupt end at a dugout—his dugout. I inquire how it happened, and am -told that he was leaning up against the back of the trench immediately -outside his dugout, with his pipe in his mouth, looking at an aeroplane -which was hovering over our line. Suddenly a bullet strikes him in the -throat; he takes his pipe out of his mouth, makes a gesture of extreme -annoyance with his arm, and mutters the words “Damn it!” Then he sinks -back in the arms of his sergeant-major, who is standing near him, and -saying, “I am finished, sergeant-major,” quietly goes West. - -Struck by a chance bullet in a comparatively safe place! Cruel, cruel -luck! At least Algy Wood, one of the most gallant officers of that pick -of Divisions—the 29th—should have been spared. However, he had the -satisfaction of putting up his hard-earned D.S.O. ribbon a week or so -ago. We continue our way along trenches which, instead of running more -or less in regular lines, zigzag in and out in sharp turns and corners, -which face the high hills on our left, each corner protected by strong -sand-bagged breastworks. The reason for this is that these breastworks, -placed at short intervals in that part of the line where we are, screen -us from view of the enemy in his trenches high up on the ridge of hills -which overlook the sea on our left. Of course, we in our trenches up -there also can overlook the Turks in the trenches running through the -low country in their territory, which trenches also are punctuated at -frequent short intervals by breastworks. In consequence of the danger -of being seen by Turks on the hill, our trenches on the low land are -very narrow, and Lord Howard de Walden causes great amusement to some -Tommies sitting on the fire-step by the remark, “These trenches were -not built for a man with an extra large tummy.” - -We follow Panton, who is on his round of inspection of sumps, cesspits, -cookhouses, and the general sanitation of the trenches. Myriads of -flies, which precede us on our way; when we halt, they all promptly -settle in black patches on the sand-bags and sides of trenches. When we -continue our tour, they, rising immediately with a loud buzzing, lead -the way for us. - -An inspection of the cookhouse of the Newfoundland Regiment is made. -It is built in a small sunken ravine at the back of the support line. -Panton and Frew, their M.O., go to the end of the ravine. I wait at the -end near entrance to the trench. A Newfoundlander says to me, “Excuse -me, sir, but in the place in which you are standing our cook was killed -yesterday by a sniper from the hill.” I am rude enough to forget to -thank the man. I simply turn round on my heel, practically diving into -the trench. But I shouted thanks to him as we left, five minutes after. -After a short walk along the front line—the usual front line, with men -at short intervals on the keen lookout through periscopes—we return by -“D” communication trench, half an hour’s walk. We pass Gibraltar Hill, -and so over the gorse to Gibraltar road, arriving at D.H.Q. on the -hill, where I am given a topping lunch. - -It is a beautiful summer day, and the Turks are sending over sporting -shots at the shipping. The battleships answer, so the enemy turn their -guns on to them instead, and actually record two hits on the _Prince -George_, which then manœuvres for a fresh position. Then they get -on to the supply ships again, which have to clear outside the boom, -further away from the end of the promontory. Suddenly a good shot at -long range gets a supply ship, which is loaded with hay, and quickly -sets it on fire. Our battleships get very angry at this, but it is -some time before they can silence the Turkish batteries. At sunset the -hay supply ship is still smoking, but the fire is well under control. -A new officer arrives, named Hunt, a good fellow from Tipperary. Good -omen, for though we are a long, long way from Tipperary, one from that -immortal place has come to join us. - - -_November 4th._ - -The ship that was set on fire yesterday lost practically all the hay in -the forward hold. Consequently, for some time our poor little Indian -mules will be on half rations. Destroyer has now broken her back and -is a total wreck, waves breaking over her. Rain is beginning now. We -had a few showers this morning. A little shelling in the morning, but -the afternoon was quiet. Go up to Brigade H.Q. with the new Transport -Officer, Hunt. Find conference on, so McLaughlin and Morris entertain -us to tea. Have to make detour through flat wooded country, getting -to and from H.Q., on account of this beastly new battery. Very quiet -this afternoon; no shelling, and hardly any rifle fire. Hunt remarked, -coming back, that it was a nice country walk, and reminded him of his -homestead in Tipperary. He has been at Blackheath for the last six -months at Headquarters at the Ranger’s Lodge, and left there only three -weeks ago, so I like getting him to talk about Blackheath, which I knew -so well. I have been on this place so long now, that a new-comer has -only to mention about riding on a tramcar or going into a cakeshop, -when I am held thrilled with interest and pleasure. - - -_November 5th._ - -A beautiful, cool summer day. Shelled at ten this morning for quite an -hour. The destroyer has now completely broken her back, and her stern -has disappeared. The Turks discovered the mishap, but they could not -see that she is a wreck, as she is “bows on” to the Turkish position. -Thinking, therefore, that the destroyer was still intact, though -stuck on the ground, they attempted to finish her off, and for three -hours shelled her. They only recorded two hits, however, and it was -satisfactory to see old Turk wasting his ammunition. To-day another -old friend has gone. He is Way, the 86th Supply Officer, who has been -here since April 25th without ever going sick. He felt rather dicky -two days ago, and was told to stay in his dugout, and to-day I find he -has developed diphtheria badly. He tries not to go, but a doctor soon -settles that. I shall now feel more lonely than ever, for we were great -pals, and our walks to our respective H.Q. were among the few pleasures -that I could look forward to. When casualties occurred at his dump he -was always there to attend to the wounded, and as S.O. the 86th Brigade -will miss him. I wonder how many of the old 29th are left. Well, Way is -for Blighty, and good luck to him. But diphtheria is a nasty illness, -and I hope he pulls through. - - -_November 6th._ - -Walker has gone off permanently to hospital with jaundice, and Hunt and -myself are left on our own. - -Beautiful summer day, to-day. Turk very quiet and hardly any shelling. -_Swiftsure_ back, and the _Canopus_ and _Prince George_ busy shelling -Turkish positions this afternoon. - - -_November 7th._ - -Another beautiful summer day. Turks shelled our valley at ten and again -at three. No damage, though some were uncomfortably close to us. Our -ships and shore batteries fairly busy. Monitors busy at night. - - -_November 8th._ - -A cool, lovely day. Flies are dying rapidly—the best news to record for -a long time. Two new A.S.C. officers arrive to join us, named Matthews -and Elphinstone. Very few shells this morning, but they come very near -our dugout this time. Cox, of the Essex, comes in for a chat, the -only original officer now left of that regiment. I walk back with him -to Brigade H.Q., and Matthews comes with me. Walking across the flat -space just leading to the 86th Brigade H.Q., I point out to Matthews -the lines of light-brown earth running up the slopes of the hill on -our left front, and he hardly believes me when I tell him one line is -Turkish. Like all who newly arrive, he is surprised at the short walk -from the beach to the line. Our batteries are dusting the Turkish line -with shrapnel, and their batteries are retaliating. They make very good -shooting on both sides, as, of course, they have all ranges registered -to a nicety. We call at both Brigades, and have tea at each. Coming -away, Matthews tells me that he is of a retiring disposition, and that -he does not like being thrown suddenly into new society, and that two -tea-parties is more than his nerves can stand, more especially when a -General is present at each. - - -_November 9th._ - -Usual visit to Brigade H.Q. with Hunt, and after, inspect the forward -reserve rations at C.R.E. dump. Men busy digging trenches back near -beaches now. Another beautiful cool summer day, cold at night. Turks -busy shelling batteries and shrapnelling trenches. - -There is only one possible game for the Turk to play, and he is playing -it well. That is to say, he must keep us at bay at all costs. Therein -lies his only chance, for once we can get across the Peninsula to -Maidos, his game is up, for we cut his main line of communications, -so he shells us continually to keep us occupied. The shelling is so -effective that elaborate dugouts have to be built. These are made as -strong as possible, the inner walls being strengthened with sand-bags, -the roof formed with strong cross-beams, on which rest, first, iron -sheets or wire netting, then two layers of sand-bags, then soil. -These dugouts are perfectly secure against shrapnel or high explosive -splinters, but, of course, could not stand against a direct hit. But -that would not worry the occupants much, as it would be all over in a -few minutes. Inside such houses we have lounges cut out of the earth -and covered with sacks. Our furniture is rough-and-ready, and made on -the spot. It is marvellous what can be done with any ordinary wooden -box, if you know how to deal with it. Out of our wooden boxes chairs -and tables appear like magic—chairs with arms and adjustable backs; -strong tables, and various other bits of furniture. Some of them are -really quite good, and show clearly the ingenuity of their makers. We -also have candlesticks, recesses for books, and toilet articles, all -from the same source. Fireplaces are made out of home-made bricks—for -there is a good deal of clay on the Peninsula. They are good fireplaces -too, complete with mantelpiece, bars, and hob. So we sit round of an -evening reading periodicals a month old with the same zest and interest -as we read the latest editions at home. - -By the papers, England sounds depressing. - -So we would rather be here. We do know _the truth of Gallipoli_ here. -Man likes to know what he is up against. Seven Divisions at the start -would have fixed this job, no ships would have been lost, and our -little friend Bulgaria would have thought twice of coming in against -us. All night outside we hear the crack-crack-crack of the rifles -in the trenches. Worcesters did a good bit of work the other night, -capturing a sniper’s post three hundred yards in front. Only two -casualties over that little job; they expected more. Turks in front of -the 29th have fairly “got the wind up.” We bomb and shell their nerves -away. - -General Cayley says he is quite happy and does not want to go to -Salonica, as he is looking forward to sitting round his fire of -a winter’s night. General Percival says bother General Cayley’s -fireplace; he wants to go to Salonica and get a move on. And so they -live their lives, these men—lives full of danger, yet joking about -their fireplaces. - - -_November 10th._ - -Another fairly quiet day. Ships firing a bit against Turkish batteries, -which are sending back shrapnel. Take up Elphinstone to Brigade and -have tea at the 86th. Have some excellent rock-cakes, made by their -cook. General Cayley calls in. We walk round with him to the 88th. I -get awfully fed up at times, but every time I see General Cayley he -gives me a spurt for a few days. I had jaundice badly about two weeks -ago, and they were going to send me off, and that meant England. I got -a spurt, and soon felt fit again, and have never felt so well in all -my life. Morris, Machine Gun Officer of the 88th, seriously ill with -rheumatism, but he is trying to hang on. Destroyers and Monitors make -a practice of shelling the Pimple from the Gulf of Saros now. Amusing -watching destroyers. They fire, then emit a cloud of smoke, sail -round behind it, then fire again, and so on. Old Turk can’t hit back. -Shelling Pimple much in fashion just now. Poor old Turk! fancy trying -to get to sleep on the Pimple with big guns throwing great shrieking -shells at him all night. - - -_November 11th._ - -Lovely summer day. Are moving camp to IX Corps Gully. Busy arranging -the necessary digging. Turks very busy with shrapnel this morning -around Chocolate Hill and to the left. Battleships very angry and fire -back, making a fearful noise. Old Turk sticks at it, though. General -de Lisle, riding with A.D.C. and orderly, nearly gets hit. He takes too -much risk and seems to have no nerves. - - -_November 12th._ - -Getting rather cold now. Fleet firing heavily to-day, and Turks, as -usual, busy with shrapnel. “C” Beach badly shelled, and 13th Division -Supply depot gets it badly; several casualties. A year ago to-day I -received my commission and joined the 13th Division. If I had not -joined the 29th Division I might have been on the “C” Beach to-day with -the 13th Division. Go up to Brigade with Elphinstone and see new Staff -Captain—Armstrong. Hadow is now with the 11th Division, and I am sorry -he has gone. Stay till dusk. Turkish snipers always creep out at dusk. -Bullets freely coming when we take our leave. Over the gorse outside -the Brigade H.Q. I say to Elphinstone, “At this point at night I always -walk fast,” and he, this being his first experience, says, “I am with -you.” Out of range we light our pipes, then a comfortable walk back in -the moonlight. Finish up work at the depot. Dinner and a smoke, and to -Hell with the Kaiser! - - -_November 13th._ - -It is getting very windy and cold, but day quite fine. Flies still -worrying, but not nearly so badly as a few weeks back. No shelling from -Turk. Ships firing on Turkish batteries, which are badly shrapnelling -Chocolate Hill. Kitchener in neighbourhood. Matthews leaves to be -Adjutant of train at Helles, and Hunt and I go out in his pinnace -to see him off. Sea a bit choppy, and I, sitting on the top of the -engine-room, nearly fall through the skylight into the engines. Horne -arrives to take his place. Has seen Kitchener at Mudros with a numerous -Staff. Staff-Captain 86th Brigade comes to tea. Show him over our new -camp for winter, which is in course of preparation. It is going to -be “some” camp. It breaks the monotony, making this camp. Guests for -dinner. Beautiful moonlight night and very quiet. - - -_November 14th._ - -A bit of a gale blowing. Another quiet day, absolutely no shelling. -Kitchener arrives here at three o’clock with Staff. Was up Brigade -with Horne at the time, and so missed the show; but my sergeant told -me about it. He landed at little West Beach, walked through the Main -Supply depot, and then past our depot, up IX Corps Gully to the top -of the hill, and had a good look round the positions. He was only -here about two hours. Tommies came running up and stood in groups at -attention, while their C.O.’s and officers saluted, and he passed along -saluting gravely right and left, now and again stopping to look at some -dugouts. There is now general satisfaction that Kitchener has been and -seen for himself what things are really like here. No shelling of the -beaches while he was on shore, but the low lands were being shrapnelled. - - -_November 15th._ - -Quiet morning. In the afternoon the Turks put a dozen of the best over -the beach, but did no harm. Bit of a battle on Chocolate Hill this -afternoon at five, and rifle fire, and a great deal of shrapnel, for -half an hour. Our battleships firing heavily and making a deafening -din. Heavy thunderstorms at eight, with vivid forked lightning and -rain. I suppose this is a foretaste of what is to come. - -The safety of the beaches has now greatly improved. West Beach and -the beach adjacent are now joined by a deep cutting. A deep trench, -starting at the Main Supply depot, runs down to West Beach, in which is -laid a tramway used for carrying supplies from the piers to the depot. -This is under cover, entirely hidden from the enemy by day. The earth -taken from this cutting or deep trench has been thrown up in great -mounds at the back of the two beaches, rendering them safe from high -explosive shells, though, of course, not from shrapnel. But “Whistling -Rufus” has not worried us since the late days of October, devoting his -attention to the unfortunately situated “C” Beach on the other side -of Lala Baba. The road leading up on the higher ground to our D.H.Q. -is now sunk and the dug out earth, thrown up on the side facing the -enemy, hides all transport by day entirely from his view. Since this -has been done this road has been almost entirely free from shrapnel. - - -_November 16th._ - -Men are hard at work digging our new camp in IX Corps Gully. We move -there, when IX Corps H.Q. move to the end of the promontory. IX Corps -new Headquarters should be entirely winterproof, even during the -severest weather. They are also practically invulnerable, by reason of -their position and the vast amount of labour that has been expended -upon them. I myself saw sheds in sections being put bodily into the -rock excavated to receive them. There were communication trenches cut -in the living rock connecting dugout with dugout. Also, elaborate -excavations in the rock formed shell-proof living quarters, and, when -necessary, unlimited wood, iron, and sand-bags have been lavishly used. -The whole place is a perfect engineering achievement—the most wonderful -nest of safety that the mind of man could conceive. How different are -the conditions at Lala Baba, but three miles away, where the wretched -hovels of the troops cluster as thickly as the cells in a honeycomb. No -coping of iron or beams there. A man is lucky if he has as much as a -blanket or a waterproof sheet to stretch over his miserable hole in the -ground—not enough shelter to keep out the raindrops, let alone shrapnel. - -The system on which our camp is being modelled is the same as for all -the other beach camps here. An effort is being made to house the men -through the rigours of the winter storms, which no doubt will soon -be upon us. Taking advantage of the sloping ground in the fold of -the gully on the promontory, which increases in height as it extends -inland towards the high land, deep trenches are dug parallel to the -lines of our trenches inshore. They are 7 feet wide, with parapets and -parados 8 feet and 6½ feet high respectively. They should be roofed in -by corrugated iron; some only of them are, however. Corrugated iron -is still a luxury here. Filled sand-bags are then laid on the top, -which should render them shrapnel-proof. As they generally run at right -angles to the line of Turkish artillery fire, a high explosive shell -would explode on the mound of earth thrown up in front of the parapet, -and not in the roof. - -Each trench is dug on lower ground than the one in front. The whole -system is being organized by an able technical engineer officer, who -is hard at work from morning to night. His camp is taken as a model. -Although in view of the enemy, its safety against casual shelling, -such as we are daily subjected to, has been demonstrated several -times. Against a heavy bombardment, of course, no trenches are proof. -Shrapnel bullets have spattered harmlessly on his sand-bagged roofs. -High explosive shells bursting full in the middle of his camp have -been caught by the mound of earth in front of the trench. Should the -shell miss one line of trenches, it is caught by the mound of earth in -front of the other line behind. A direct hit on the roof, except from a -howitzer, is almost impossible. - -Drains are cut about and around the trenches to catch the water of the -forthcoming heavy rains, and advantage is taken of the formation of -the gullies to make one main drain into which smaller drains can run. -One has only to look at the great boulders of stone standing half in -and half out of the earth all over the high ground of the Peninsula, -and at the large, medium, and small gullies, which are of all kinds of -intricate geographical formations, to realize that at some time of the -year not only a series of ordinary rainfalls, but raging deluges of -water, fall in all-powerful torrents, mercilessly driving all before -them, even great boulders of stone. No trenches, no matter how well -constructed, can withstand heavy driving floods. Let the engineers -first study the formation of the land, pause and reason a little, and -they will see that all this labour will be lost, and their trenches -full to the brim at the first heavy downfall. In dry weather, though, -the system is excellent, and the men inside are very comfortable. - -The trenches are entered by steps from the road or path at either -end, or from the terrace behind between each trench. At night the men -sleep in one row side by side, their kits hung on the earth wall -behind them. Quarters for N.C.O.’s are partitioned off by timber and -sacking. By day their blankets are rolled up neatly, and the whole -makes a roomy apartment. A cookhouse constructed on the same principle -is built at the end of a series of trenches. Officers’ dugouts are -built near by, dug in the slope or behind protecting boulders. The -whole, neat, orderly, and compact, affords remarkably good cover from -shrapnel and high explosives—but for protection against weather, -never. For protection against weather I prefer the de Lisle system of -terraces, built on a steep slope in tiers, the whole practically a -flight of very large steps. But, of course, a steep slope is necessary. -The men’s quarters are simply built on each terrace; the back wall is -cut out of earth, the roof of corrugated iron, supported by timbers -and made shrapnel-proof, and the sides are built up of loose stones, -tarpaulins, and timber. The hill on which such a system is built -affords the necessary protection against shell fire. It is, of course, -weather-proof, as it is simple to drain. - -“C” Beach and Lala Baba across the bay get very badly shelled this -afternoon, and in consequence the battleships are hard at work -endeavouring to silence the Turkish batteries. Sounds of very heavy -firing are heard from Helles, probably Monitors in action. - - -_November 17th._ - -Very little shelling, hardly any our way. To-day is very stormy, and -as the time goes on the wind develops into a great gale. All landing -of stores has to cease. Great white waves dash up against our piers, -and after it is over there will be much work for the Australian -Bridging Section. In the evening our flimsy summer quarters are cold -and draughty. The oil-drum fire won’t burn. So we turn in early, -Elphinstone and Horne going to their dugout up the rise to our left. -Suddenly, just as we are getting into bed, the tarpaulin half of our -roof blows adrift. Hunt and I have a job to fasten it back in position -once more. The wind is shrieking outside. A short while after, Horne -and Elphinstone come back, asking for shelter, for their bivouac has -blown down altogether, and so we crowd them in our shelter for the rest -of the night. - - -_November 18th, 19th, and 20th._ - -The usual daily visits to Brigade H.Q. forward reserve dumps and D.H.Q. -I get exercise this way. Also to and fro on the beach, paying calls on -friends among the many dugouts there. Some are excellent, especially -those of Naval L.O.’s and Camp Commandant, built in the side of the -high rocks. The Field Cashier has to be “stung” by me now and again on -behalf of my Staff Captain to pay the men of Brigade H.Q. His dugout is -not in a very safe place. - -Once, outside the dugout, leaning against the wall of sand-bags talking -to an Australian officer, I heard a shell coming clean for us. I had no -time to get to cover. I saw men several yards away dive for cover. I -watched the Australian. He did not duck, but I noticed that he gripped -his pipe tightly with his teeth. I leant hard against the wall behind -me, and the beastly thing passed low over our heads and burst in the -sea. I said to him, “I wanted to duck, but as you didn’t, I didn’t,” -and he replied, “Same here, son.” Gale has been blowing hard the last -three days, the Navy having great difficulty in landing stores, etc.; -but to-night—the night of the 20th—the wind is dying down. Hardly any -shelling at all now, except inland. - -Our flimsy bivouac very draughty and cold. It is hard work keeping our -accounts and doing our office work. - - -_November 22nd._ - -Gale blowing hard now and wind much colder. Hard at work building our -new camp. Hunt falls ill and has to go to bed, but trying to stick it -out. Turks very quiet. - -We are woke up at twelve midnight by a dugout on fire, and all turn out -to get the fire under and prevent it spreading in the strong wind to -neighbouring dugouts. We curse heartily but manage to put the fire out -in half an hour. No one is hurt. - - -_November 23rd._ - -Wind quieting down, thank goodness. We pull down our “summer -residence,” in which we had lived for close on three months. In a -short while not a sign of it is left, and we are hard at work shifting -the whole camp into our new quarters in the late IX Corps Gully. Each -regiment’s Q.M.’s staff, and a few regimental transport details and our -A.S.C. Supply details move with us. Also the two Brigade post-offices. -Our camp is not properly finished, but we are all glad to be in it, for -it is much warmer at night in our dugouts. - - -_November 24th._ - -The weather is now much more settled. It was making us all very -anxious, as landing stores was very difficult for the Navy. Brigade -H.Q. country walk again. But life very monotonous. Battleships now and -again pop off. A little shelling from the Turk, but not half a dozen -all day. Hard at work on new camp. - - -_November 25th._ - -Hunt very seedy, so I send him to Field Ambulance. At night hear a -rumour that the evacuation of Suvla Bay has been decided on. Go down on -beach in the evening to see about arrangements for getting off, but am -led to believe it is only baggage for a Division which is leaving. - - -_November 26th._ - -Yes, I think evacuation has been definitely decided on, so our little -camp has been built for nothing. However, it keeps us employed, for -life is deadly dull. This, then, is to be the end! After all these -months of blood and sweat, of feverish anticipation and dismal -results; after all the toil, the hardships, and sorrows, with the -little graveyards getting fuller and fuller every day as I have -passed them—all this is for nothing, and we are leaving. I am glad, -yet full of regrets—excited, too, at the prospect of getting back to -civilization once more. Alexandria and all its delights will seem like -Paradise; the cosy dinners at the club, the shops, and the meeting -with old friends left behind. These are some of the emotions that I -experience at the thought of evacuation. - -The wind is getting up once more, and the sea becomes stormy. The -Field Ambulance receive orders to evacuate all patients at once to -casualty clearing stations. At the clearing station they are hard at -work evacuating all cases on to the lighters for transmission to the -hospital ships. - - -_Afternoon._ - -The sea is very rough. A lighter full of sick and a few wounded has -been washed ashore. Two cases have been drowned. All further evacuation -has stopped. - -The battleships are heavily bombarding Turkish positions. Over Imbros -black clouds, heavy with rain, are sailing towards us. We are in for a -dirty night. - -We are in the middle of loading our A.T. carts when heavy spots of rain -drop, and looking up, we see the sky getting blacker and blacker with -storm clouds. Luckily, issuing is nearly finished. The transport of -many of the battalions has moved off, when a flash of forked lightning -rushes from the sky to the sea, and almost instantly a deafening crash -of thunder bursts overhead. This flash is followed by another and -another, and then several in different parts of the sky stab the black -clouds at the same moment. The rain gently begins to hiss, the hiss -getting louder and louder, developing into a noise like the sound of -loudly escaping steam, until, as if the clouds have all burst together, -water deluges the earth in a soaking torrent. Black night soon falls -upon us, changing at short intervals momentarily into day as the forked -flashes of lightning stab the earth, sky, and sea. The beach men, -bending double under the downfall of water and the struggle against -the wind as they walk, appear in vivid detail and disappear in the -fraction of a second as the lightning plays overhead. Soon a pouring -torrent of water a foot deep is raging down the gullies, turning the -ravines, large and small, down the slopes of the hill into rushing -cascades, washing away dugouts as if they were paper, and filling to -the brim every crevice and hollow on the lower land. The new camps of -trenches into which men have rushed for shelter are half filled with -water, which, in less than an hour, overflows the drains on either side -that we had dug to prevent such an event happening. All the weary weeks -of Engineer labour lost in a short time. I go back to our new dugout -and meet a sorry sight. Our cookhouse, wherein our dinner was being -prepared, washed off the face of the earth. The roof and the back part -of the messroom had fallen in, covering furniture with mud and debris, -and flooding the floor with water 6 inches deep. - -I have to go to the Corps Transport depot about some water-carts for -the trenches, so, taking my torch, I cross the gully. The rain is -pouring in torrents, and as I walk the rushing water from the hills -washes round my feet high above my ankles. Parts of dugouts, boxes, -men’s kits, etc., continually come floating down on top of the rushing -stream. The thunder crashes overhead and my torch is unnecessary, for -the incessant flashes of forked lightning illuminate my way. The wind -beating against my face takes my breath away, and makes the climb up -the high slope exhausting. I arrive at the mess dugout of the IX Corps -Transport. Their dugout is intact, for it is on steeply sloping ground, -but their floor is over 6 inches deep in water. They are all sitting -at dinner with gum-boots on, and are a merry party. Afterwards I climb -to D.H.Q., arriving breathless. Back in our dugout, the storm still -raging, appearing to go round and round in circles, first dying off -somewhat, then rushing back with renewed fury; it runs its wild course -till about eight o’clock, when it seems to pass away over Sari Bair, -leaving heavy clouds pouring their burden of rain into the flooded -gullies and trenches. Towards nine the downfall slackens, and shortly -after stars become visible, and the black clouds gradually roll away -over the hills of Gallipoli. We have a meal of bully beef and bread, -for our dinner has been washed away and no hot food is possible. The -wind from the north-west still blows with great violence, and it -becomes steadily colder and colder. Two of our dugouts are intact, and -we turn into these and get off to sleep, wondering if the drainage -system in the trenches has answered its demands. - - -_November 27th._ - -We wake up to find a drizzly rain falling, blown by a strong north -wind. Mud is everywhere, and the whole of the beaches a quagmire. What -were once dugouts are now large puddles full of water. The system of -trenches for winter quarters across the various gullies and nullahs has -ceased to exist. Many of these are full to the brim with water; all -have water and mud covering their floors. Twelve men taking shelter -in their trench, which was roofed by corrugated iron, and which is -situated in the gully in which we lived up to a week ago, have been -drowned by the roof collapsing. We have orders to send up medical -comforts. We send them up by A.T. carts. For the first time a convoy of -A.T. carts is seen on the Gibraltar road in broad daylight. - -A gale develops in the afternoon. Elphinstone and I go up to Hill 10. -The road is in many parts under water, and the whole a bog of wet, -tenacious clay that clings to one’s boots and almost pulls their heels -off as one raises each foot. What before was a pleasant country walk is -now a hard, exhausting “slow treadmill” made in a gale that one has to -determinedly bend one’s back to, to make any headway at all. Last night -the pack-mules had the greatest difficulty in getting the rations up, -and one or two that fell into ravines were drowned. We call at the West -Riding R.E., and in Major Bailey’s dugout I find the floor a foot deep -in water and Major Bailey perched up on a table, his feet resting on a -ledge of the dugout, endeavouring to get warm from an oil-drum fire. He -appears as cheery as ever; in fact, every time I see him he is always -merry and bright, evidently a habit, and a habit worth cultivating. We -arrange the position of the new ration dump, though it is difficult -to find cover for it. A line of bushes is the only protection we can -find. We go over to the Dublin camp in the reserve trenches by Hill 10, -and, of course, it is flooded, and the men in a wretched condition. -We see the officer in charge about fatigues for the unloading of -rations. As we come away we meet Colonel Fuller, our G.S.O.1, who asks -as to the conditions of the roads on our left, and we cannot give him -anything but a bad report. We continue our way past the barbed wire -and second-line trenches to the 86th and 88th Brigade H.Q. Turkish -artillery is dead quiet, and hardly a rifleshot is to be heard. Both -Brigade H.Q. have withstood the storm well, protected as they are by -the small hills on the side of which they have been constructed, the -ground sloping away in front. - -At the 86th Brigade we hear that our trenches on the low land have -been flooded to the brim, and in some parts are now completely under -water. Sentries are lying flat in the mud and water outside, behind the -trenches, watching the enemy and in full view of him. There they lie, -keeping guard under such conditions as have hardly been known before, -sniped at now and again, and occasionally becoming casualties. The -86th, being in the lowest trenches, suffered the worst, for suddenly, -as their trenches became kneedeep in water, a torrent burst into a -saphead, and in a few minutes had swallowed up the first-line, the -dugouts and communication trenches. Men floundered about, swarmed here -and there, and clambered out on to the open. A few less fortunate were -drowned. Could it ever have been imagined that men would drown in a -trench? This has now happened, and their bodies lie half floating, half -resting on the bottom of the trench, waiting to be dragged out when -nightfall comes. - -In this terribly cold northerly wind, gradually beginning to freeze, -those waiting sentries, with their clothes soaking wet through, watch -for the enemy, who probably is worse off than we are. As often as -possible they are relieved, the relief creeping up in the broad open, -chancing the sniper’s easy shot. As we talk, a man comes past, leaning -on the arms of two R.A.M.C. men, who are taking him to the advanced -dressing station, a little way back. His face is blue and swollen, and -his teeth chattering as if with fever. We go round to the H.Q. of the -88th Brigade and ask for instructions as to what to send up in the way -of food and medical comforts. In talking to General Cayley, we make -the remark that we are glad that his dugout has not been washed away, -but immediately feel reproved for having said this by his replying -that “it is not his dugout, but the poor chaps in the trenches that he -worries about, because he can do nothing for them.” - -It takes us about a quarter of the time to get back, for the wind -literally blows us along, and it is difficult for us to keep our feet -in the sticky mud. Once I slip while negotiating the side of a deep -puddle, and fall backwards into it, much to the amusement of some -passing gunners. At night it steadily becomes colder and colder, and -the driving, misty rain turns to snow, a northerly cold blizzard -setting in. I am up late arranging about the carting of the rations and -blankets to the sea of mud that was once our trenches. It is freezing -cold, but we shiver the more when we think of those men lying out in -the open behind our front line. - - -_November 28th._ - -We wake up to find it bitterly cold and a northerly blizzard driving -with great force down the Hill. A Staff officer comes into our dugout -early and instructs me to get as many medical comforts as possible -in the way of rum, brandy, milk, Oxo, etc., up to the line. I go -down to the Main Supply depot, and there find shelters made of boxes -and sailcovers built as temporary hospitals. They are full of men -frostbitten in legs, arms, and faces, who lie in great distress, -suffering agonies as their blood warms up and circulates to the frozen -parts of their bodies. A hospital ship is standing quite close inshore -off West Beach, but five hundred yards from the pier, the closest a -hospital ship has moved to the beaches as yet. Hodsall, the O.C., a -temporary A.S.C. Major, does all he can for me, and I collar all the -comforts and fuel I can lay my hands on. There is a plentiful supply, -in spite of the heavy demands of yesterday. Again, as yesterday, these -are conveyed up by daylight, and yet the Turks do not shell us. We are -extraordinarily free from shell fire. Our line is held very thinly, -only by forward parts, relieved in daylight at frequent intervals -regardless of snipers. Last night the frost was severe, and the men -lying out in the mud behind the soaking trenches suffered the greatest -hardship that a soldier could endure—namely to lie out in the soaking -clothes, which freeze stiff in a biting wind, while the temperature -rapidly falls to below zero. - -The enemy is more inactive than he has ever been, showing that he -has suffered as badly as we have, if not worse. In front of the 86th -Brigade the Turks hold slightly higher ground than we do, and I think -that they must have opened one or two of their sapheads when their -trenches were flooded, thus allowing the water to rush over to our -side, engulfing all our first-line dugouts and communication trenches. -The gale blowing from the north-east to-day is the fiercest that I have -known, for, as well as being biting cold, it drives stinging sleet -before it with terrific force. As I talk to an officer on the hill -of IX Corps Gully, outside my dugout, I have to stand with my legs -wide apart, bending my body against the wind to prevent myself from -being blown backwards on the frozen ground. Many Turkish prisoners -have come in, in as bad a state of collapse as our men. Last night a -party of forty came over unmolested as far as the gully behind our -support trenches. Seeing some of our men crowding around a coke brazier -endeavouring to get warm, they walked up to them with hands up, but -were “shoo’d” away like a lot of sheep by our half-frozen Tommies, -who advised them to “get to Hell out of it.” Pondering, they walked -over towards the Salt Lake and were taken in by the casualty clearing -station on “B” Beach. This morning a few have died. Officers in the -line, if they were not on watch, were huddled together all night -endeavouring to get warmth from each other’s bodies. Ration carts were -unable to get to many parts of the line owing to the mud and water -in places being over the axles of the wheels. Quantities of rum and -rations were lost in the mud. Telephone communication broke down, and -many men, cut off from the rest and having to watch the enemy, froze -and died at their posts. - -To-day, walking cases are streaming and staggering down the roads from -the trenches to advanced dressing stations, from advanced dressing -stations to the casualty clearing station, which is rapidly becoming -overcrowded. Such an influx of cases has come in so unexpectedly, that -the staff is unable to deal with them quickly. Frozen and frostbitten -men continually stagger in, collapse on the damp floors of the tents -and marquees, exhausted, to wait their turn for medical attention. -The sea is rough, and it is impossible to get the cases off to the -hospital ship. One lighter has been swamped and a few cases drowned. -Motor-lorries are busy plying between the casualty clearing station and -West Beach all day, for the casualty clearing station is crowded out. -More improvised shelters have been put up in the Main Supply depot, in -the Ordnance marquees, and in dugouts on the beaches. Three exhausted -men staggering down the Gibraltar road to the advanced dressing station -are a unique party. Linking arms, they painfully stumble along to the -refuge of a dressing station, where, on arrival, they are received with -surprise and interest, for two are British Tommies and the third a -Turk, all allies against a common enemy. - - -_7 p.m._ - -Colonel Pearson, O.C. Lancashire Fusiliers, of Lancashire Landing -fame, visits us in an exhausted state, his clothes damp and sodden. We -provide him with an outfit of dry clothes, gathered from our respective -kits. He talks about going back to his regiment to-night, which is -sheltering in the C.R.E. nullah, by our forward ration dump, but I -think soon he will collapse altogether and have to be evacuated. He was -all last night holding a portion of our flooded, sodden and freezing -line. At night Horne and I go on to cart some of the rations from the -C.R.E. dump to Hill 10 by A.T. carts. On arrival at the camp of the -Royal Dublin Fusiliers, we find a poor shivering fatigue party waiting -for us. I had expected to find these men in a miserable condition, -for their camp has suffered heavily in the storm, and even the best -built dugouts have been washed entirely away. We have brought with -us whisky-bottles filled with rum and water. As the last cart is -unloaded, we hand the bottles to the sergeant, who calls the men up one -at a time. They come forward eagerly as each name is called, “Private -Murphy! Private O’Brien!” etc., and drink a tot from the bottle handed -to them. - -It is amusing to watch them standing waiting their turn, with keen -anticipation, for a pull at the bottle under the superintendence of -their watchful sergeant, who regulates fair play in the length of the -drink by interrupting an extra long one by snatching the bottle from -the man’s mouth, now and again. As we go away, several of the men -shout, “The blessings of Jasus be on you, sir!” in a Dublin brogue, -and we leave the poor devils to shiver in the camp the rest of the -night. We are delayed in our return by a chase after two mules, which -we capture after much difficulty amongst gorse-bushes, trees, and -boulders. Calling in at the Australians’ dugout on Kangaroo Beach, we -see them sitting round a welcome log fire, and as we warm ourselves, -a figure covered in a blanket, his head swathed in a cloth, creeps in -stealthily like a cat. He is a half-frozen Drabi, edging towards the -fire to warm himself. An Australian makes him understand that he had -better go back to his camp, and orders him out. He creeps out, but -after a pause I see him come back stealthily once more, unnoticed by -the others, and sit at the back of the stove on his haunches, his hands -spread out for warmth. He is at last noticed, but some one says, “Let -the poor devil be!” and we go on talking, taking no notice of him. - - -_November 29th._ - -The gale is still heavy, but the blizzard has stopped. The sky is clear -overhead, but it is freezing hard, and the steady stream of casualties -from the storm still continues to be evacuated. The whole country-side -has frozen hard. All day we are hard at work sending up comforts to -the line and to the C.R.E. nullah, and nursing the casualties who have -arrived in our little camp. The wind is slackening a little, and in -consequence the sea is going down. Advantage is therefore being taken -of this to thin down the overcrowded casualty clearing station and -the many improvised shelters, which are overflowing with cases. The -hospital ship is standing close inshore, only five hundred yards off -West Beach. My visits to D.H.Q. on the top of the hill above our gully -are made to-day with great exertion in the teeth of the bitterly cold -gale, and I arrive at the top each time absolutely exhausted. Before I -go into the D.A.Q.M.G.’s little dugout, which is his office and bedroom -combined, I have to sit down on a boulder to recover my breath. - -Horne and I go up with the A.T. carts to take more of the forward -reserve rations from the C.R.E. nullah over to the left of Hill 10, for -two forward dumps have to be made of equal numbers of rations, and the -one we have now is therefore being halved. Hill 10 is a position of -which several of our batteries have taken advantage, and in consequence -is a favourite target of the Turkish gunners. One veritably walks on a -surface of shrapnel bullets around this hill, lying like pebbles on the -shore. On arrival at the nullah we find that all the Supply boxes, with -their tarpaulin covers, have been built up to form a large improvised -dressing station. They are full of cases of frostbite and exhaustion. -From all around comes the sound of men groaning. And so the carting of -rations to Hill 10 is off to-night. As I walk back, I hear a groaning -voice calling “Mother, mother!” and peering through the darkness of the -night, I see the form of a man lying under a gorse-bush. Poor devil! -His mother, to whom he calls, is probably knitting him socks at home. -We carry him along to the 89th Field Ambulance Dressing Station, just -to the right of the nullah, having to negotiate a muddy brook on the -way. We walk back fast, to get up a circulation, and find on arrival -that a nice fire has been kept up. The roads are hardening with the -frost. This will aid the solution of the transport difficulties, which -have been almost insuperable during these awful last few days, for -the wind has been so strong as to almost prevent the use of the light -motor-ambulance, and horse transport is restricted, owing, I find, to -animals having already been evacuated just before the storm. - - -_November 30th._ - -We awake to find the gale has died away. It is a cool, beautiful day, -with not a cloud in the sky. In fact, the sun is beaming warm. It is -hard to believe that we have just passed through a terrible blizzard. -The beach is crowded with cases of frostbite waiting for evacuation, -which is rapidly going on now. Men lie about everywhere on the beaches, -with their limbs swathed in bundles of bandages. Many cases are -serious, and not a few will lose their limbs. The Main Supply depot is -now a large hospital of shelters built of boxes and sailcovers. All -over the beaches men are hunting about for lost property buried in the -mud. Dugouts and trenches are being drained of the remaining water. -The beaches are gradually becoming themselves again. The Division has -suffered heavily. - -On the inspection of the Royal Fusiliers to-day, one company, on being -called to attention, proved to be a company consisting of Captain Gee, -a sergeant-major, and a private. Captain Gee shouted, “Sergeant-major, -call the company to attention.” The sergeant-major then shouted, “‘W’ -Company, ’shun!” and the one man left, who was the company cook, sprang -to attention. - -Gee, forty-five years of age, and who at the best of times could not -be called robust-looking, stuck this storm through at his post in the -trenches, which are situated on the lowest ground—trenches which in -consequence suffered the worst of all—until he was relieved. - -He told me after that on coming back on relief he came to a small -nullah, and that he was so weak and finished that he actually cried -like a child before he could summon up the will-power to get across -that little brook, which at ordinary times he would have cleared at a -leap. - - -_Later._ - -The evacuation of Suvla, which was decided on before the storm and -then cancelled, I believe has now been finally decided on. Parties are -now hard at work at night improving the second line, which stretches -behind our first line on the same latitude as our C.R.E. dump, across -the Gibraltar road and over to Hill 10. A third line is being dug -just a short way in on the mainland from “W” Beach, and over the hill -of the promontory a fourth line also. Our dugout is now being rapidly -repaired, and the dugouts behind on the higher ground, one story -higher, are now finished. All the dugouts are built together as a -whole, really forming a picturesque house. On the ground floor, up a -short path bordered by little gorse-bushes and a rockery, one enters -our messroom, furnished with a table, arm-chairs, and a stove made from -an oil-drum. Two smaller rooms lead out from the left, and two from the -right. One is the clerk’s office, in which he sleeps, and the other -three are each occupied by Horne, Elphinstone, and myself. - -Next to our dugouts, on the same level, are the dugouts of the Q.M.’s -of a few regiments, which are built on the same scale as ours, but -separated by a flight of about a dozen steps running up in a bend to a -row of smaller dugouts, which house the N.C.O.’s of our Supply Section, -a few quartermaster-sergeants, regimental N.C.O.’s, and the two Brigade -postal staffs. Opposite, in the gully, as the trenches that we had -made are now damaged beyond repair by the recent storm, the remainder -of the men live in shelters made from sailcovers and tarpaulins, -with shrapnel-proof roofs, built in places where boulders and mounds -of earth protect them from high explosive shells. Behind us is an -Egyptian encampment, situated in full view of the Turks among rocks -and boulders. But as they sleep most of the day, working only at night -digging on the beaches, they cause very little movement to be seen by -the enemy, and in consequence have been very little shelled. If a shell -does come near them, however, they make no bones about running as far -away as possible, chattering like a lot of chickens. - -All day cases of frozen men, now happily diminishing in number, -are being shipped off. It was the most terrible storm I have ever -witnessed. - - - - - DECEMBER - - -_December 1st._ - -A beautiful day, but very cold. Turks shell the beaches pretty heavily -in the morning and afternoon with high explosive and cause some -casualties. Quite a new kind of shell, I think, and from new guns. One -shell hits our depot, smashing our clerks’ office, but fortunately -nobody is hurt. Poign Destre, of the Munsters, a charming boy, comes to -spend a few days with us. He was out on the parapet during the night of -the storm and was carried back unconscious, but is now quite fit again. -Times are rather anxious just at present. Troops arrive this morning -to reinforce. Evacuation of stores and equipment proceeding full steam -ahead. - - -_December 2nd._ - -Drafts arrive for the 29th Division. A beautiful day and not too cold. -Turks busy with shrapnel. Go up to Brigade H.Q. with Horne. While up -there, Turks shell beaches. Suddenly they open fire with two guns -and shower of 5·9 shrapnel along the new second-line trenches which -we have just passed. We have not had this 5·9 shrapnel since October -27th. About forty shells come over in rapid succession, two at a time. -I hope they do not pepper the beaches with them. The ground is still -damp after the flood. We are warned to expect many of these floods and -blizzards. We pass General Byng and Staff while up at Brigade. General -Cayley still as cheery as ever. Everybody busy repairing damaged -dugouts. Work of evacuation proceeding very well. I wonder if John Turk -can see. We have the advantage of the piers and beaches being under -cover. - - -_December 3rd._ - -We now hear a rumour that we are not evacuating at all, and that -only the 29th are going, but I do not believe this. We learn this -rumour from Sergeant Jones, of Jones’s water dump. Every day rumours -are circulated from Sergeant Jones’s dugout on “A” Beach. All day -officers and men who pass call in here and say, “Good-morning [or -good-evening], Jones; what is the latest rumour?” They are invited to -sit down while Jones tells the latest and best that he had heard from -all sources—trenches, Navy, and beaches. I have seen at one time in -Jones’s dugout a Brigadier, Major, and two Captains and a corporal all -sitting round the oil-stove fire while Sergeant Jones, at his table, -is eating his supper. As an officer comes in, Jones stands up, saying, -“Good-evening, sir; what can I do for you?” If it is water required, -then that worry has to be settled; if it is an ordinary call at this -half-way house, then the officer is invited to sit down by the fire, -Jones adding, if he should be at supper, “You will excuse me going on -with my supper, won’t you, sir?” One night he said to me, “May I press -you to a plate of porridge, sir?” We do not look upon him as a soldier -or an N.C.O. It is difficult to describe how we regard him. - -He is popular with everybody, and all officers, after a while, fall -into the same manner of dealing and talking with him. Personally, I -feel my relations with him are as they would be to the landlord of a -familiar roadside inn. “A” Beach now being deserted, all and sundry, -with the exception of Jones, being shelled out, Jones has to remain -there, for this beach is the only possible place for a water dump. -Dugout and dump remind me of a lonely roadside inn where I call on my -journeys between the beaches and the line. He gets shelled now and -again, and has had some remarkably lucky escapes. Men have been killed -right and left of him. But most of the drawing of the water is done -under the cover of the night. Happily, for our Division the water -question has been nearly solved by our Engineers finding wells behind -our part of the line, although we still have to draw water by cart from -Jones to augment the supply from the forward wells. Other Divisions, -however, are not so fortunate. They continue to nightly draw water from -Jones for the troops in the line and reserve nullahs by all kinds of -receptacles, and cart it up on A.T. carts. - -Scotch mist and drizzly rain all day. Hardly any shelling on our front -or on part of Turks. More drafts for 29th Division arrive. We are now -making a rest camp in one of the nullahs, where men can change their -clothes in case the weather gets bad again. - - -_December 4th._ - -A very calm day, cold, cloudy, and dull. All last night there was -quite a lot of rifle fire and bombing. Starting at daybreak, Turks -get very busy with shrapnel, of which they appear to have plenty. At -midday they are bombarding our position very energetically. We reply, -and the battleships join in. In the afternoon our neighbourhood is -shelled with these new high explosive shells, one shell dropping in our -Supply depot; but no one is hurt. Dusk, and all is quiet. A relief. -Poign Destre leaves Peninsula. Lucky devil! We have shipped off to-day -a lot of base kits, surplus baggage, ordnance stores, and even food -supplies, by means of the A.T. carts and on the tramway running in the -sunken trench. A.T. carts returning empty from the trenches have been -bringing large quantity of surplus kit and stores away during the last -few nights. Under the cover of the protecting mounds of earth they have -been off-loaded on to lighters, which with no attempt to disguise their -intentions have been towed out to supply ships, making fast on the side -away from the enemy, their cargo being loaded by the ships’ derricks -into the various holds. Very little of this work has been done so far, -but it is obvious to all that we are evacuating in the near future. I -can’t describe our feelings. Up to a short time ago stores were being -busily unloaded day and night, and now the reverse is happening. It is -as if a High Commander had suddenly shouted the order, “As you were.” - - -_December 5th._ - -Heavy gunning all day by both sides—very heavy and continuous. From -twelve to one the Turks give us a general bombardment, and we get our -share in our little camp. Men’s cookhouse wrecked, but no one hurt; -the cook happens to be at the depot a hundred yards down the gully -drawing rations. It is evident that the Turks are now getting regular -supplies of ammunition, probably direct from Germany. We are looking -to Russia. If only she can come through Rumania and attack Bulgaria in -the rear and cut off Turkey, Turkey is finished. We get rumours that -she is through, and are rather looking towards her as a besieged city -looks towards its deliverers. Snipers busy just now, on account of the -exposed position of our washed-out trenches. Fresh drafts arrive for -the 29th. Is it to be an evacuation for all, or is the 29th only going. -If so, why do drafts arrive for the 29th? - - -_December 6th._ - -A very beautiful day. Turks busy shelling us. We reply energetically. -One continued roar of guns all day. Our beaches shelled midday and -late afternoon. But very few casualties, the mounds of earth affording -excellent cover, and all shells are high explosive, no shrapnel. -Trenches are still in muddy state in low land. At night we shell their -positions. - - -_December 7th._ - -A very beautiful, cool day, but it is getting colder. Turks start -shelling us early. Their shells are much improved and are evidently -new. Horne and I start off to Brigade H.Q. after lunch, walking up our -gully. We pass a boxing match in full swing. I do not think that the -men know anything of the evacuation. I hear unofficially that it has -been postponed indefinitely. Perhaps it is off altogether. We appear -to be getting through the winter so well, that perhaps it might be as -well to stick these storms and not give up this job of forcing the -Dardanelles, which if successful would mean so much to the cause of the -Allies. As we near the top of the gully, we hear the boom of a gun, -coming from the direction in which we are walking. It is the first time -that a shell for the beach has come from this direction. By its sound -I know instinctively that the beastly thing is coming down very near -us. I shout to Horne, “Drop flat!” and both of us fall beside a prickly -gorse-bush as the thing bursts with a deafening explosion on the high -ground on our right. We get to our feet and look back at the boxing -match, and cannot help being amused at the way the Tommies have quickly -cleared or lain down, with the instinct of “veterans of the beaches.” -The combatants in the ring, who have paused, resume their match. The -crowd again collects, continually being added to by a stream of men -coming over the skyline from the next gully. This should draw Turkey’s -fire; and sure enough it does, for as we reach the hill at the top of -the gully we hear another coming. We duck behind a boulder as it passes -over our heads and bursts twenty yards our side of the boxing ring. -This clears the crowd and ends the match for the day. The Turks cannot -see the gully, but know that men are collecting there by the procession -of them streaming over the skyline of the promontory. As we walk on -towards the 88th Field Ambulance, about four more shells scream over -the hill to the gully, which by this time is deserted; and as we sit in -the ambulance waiting for a friend who is walking up with us to Brigade -H.Q., the Turks increase their range and send a few nice fat, juicy -ones over to the beaches. - -Leaving the ambulance, we walk down the slope to the Gibraltar road and -meet Grant, our G.S.O.3, who has just come back from the trenches. He -is in shorts, caked with mud up to his knees and thickly bespattered -over the rest of his body, which gives evidence of the present state -of the trenches, even though it is over ten days since the storm. He -tells us that in fifteen minutes we are going to open fire with all -guns on to the unfortunate Pimple. We continue our way up the Gibraltar -road, when at four o’clock precisely the ships’ guns—with a roar that -makes me jump, for I am again walking in a direct line from which -they are firing—fire, and the great shells screaming overhead can be -seen bursting with great violence on the insignificant geographical -formation. Almost at once all shore batteries pour shells in rapid -succession on to the small target of the Pimple, which disappears from -sight under a great cloud of drifting dust and smoke of all colours. - -Arriving at Brigade H.Q., we find McLaughlin on the roof of his dugout -looking at the show through glasses, and we join him. As is always -the case when John Turk is being bombarded, the bullets become free -and frequent, and “overs” begin to fly about us. We have tea with -McLaughlin and sit around the nice brick open hearth, in which a log -fire is burning, and chat. The General and Brigade Major are up at -Gun Hill observing the show. Heavy gunning is heard in the south all -the afternoon; at night the Turk sends a shell over our way at odd -intervals, but in our gully we are practically safe, for his targets -are usually the beaches. - - -_December 9th._ - -Yes; the evacuation of Suvla is now a reality. I hear to-day that -we have now begun the intermediate stage of the evacuation. It has -been a reality for some days. The storm only delayed it. We have -just completed the preliminary stage. We hear that it will be but -a few days now when not a British subject will be left alive here -unless as a prisoner. The shelling to-day is in fits and starts. High -explosive shells are searching the beach, bursting well and with a -louder explosion than in past days. But West Beach is well protected, -and the steady shipment of vehicles and ordnance goes on all day. At -night, empty ration carts go up to the line to bring back men’s surplus -kits, blankets, surplus ammunition, and the surplus part of the usual -accumulation of baggage that a regiment takes with it to the trenches -and to dumps just behind. - -Horne, Elphinstone, Hunt, and I are on the beach all night, taking -shifts in superintending the unloading of the carts as they arrive back -full. They come back in a steady stream. The carts that have taken up -rations, stores, special ammunition, such as bombs, etc., earlier in -the evening, all return loaded with kits. We have a few men to help us, -but hardly enough, and we therefore work ourselves to keep warm. It is -a monotonous job. The Drabis appear fed-up, and we have to watch them -carefully to see that they do not slope off with their loaded carts -to their lines. Kipling once said “East is East and West is West, and -never the twain shall meet.” Is this correct? I wonder. For our Tommies -seem to work amicably with the Drabis. The white transport corporal, -who is with us marshalling the transport, on receiving an order from -me, shouts out into the darkness of the beach to the Indian jemadar, -“Mahommed Hussan!” A voice answers back with a drawl, “Hullo”; my -corporal shouts back, “Wait ’arf a mo, will yer?” and the voice answers -“A-all ri-ight.” East—and West. - -All night, lighters are being loaded up and towed out to the ships. -Last A.T. carts unloaded at 5 a.m. We turn in at 5.30 a.m., ready for -sleep. - - -_December 10th._ - -A fine, cool day. Usual shelling with “hot-stuff” shells. Evacuation of -stores going on apace. I think the 29th is to be the last off. Medical -comforts in the way of champagne, port, brandy, and whisky are now -going cheap, and I send them round to all the battalion messes, the two -Brigades, and Divisional H.Q. They are not troubling to evacuate this -stuff, and I am trying to get a full share for the 29th. Personally, I -should like to give them champagne dinners every night, after what they -have been through. No food being landed now, except a little bread and -fresh meat. Instead of that, the reserve at the depot is being steadily -reduced. - - -_December 11th._ - -Last night work went steadily on—the loading up of lighters and the -towing of these to ships, where the derricks, rattling away feverishly, -emptied them. A surprisingly large quantity of all kinds of material -has been evacuated, yet the beaches and the life thereon appear -unchanged. All tentage and camps are to be left standing, and up to the -last day as much transport as possible will move about on the top of -the promontory. To-night the 89th Field Ambulance has left, together -with some men on light duty. Also a large number of men from the 11th -and 13th Divisions. - - -_December 12th._ - -Nothing of much account to-day. Everybody hard at work, dismantling -and getting away all impedimenta. It can readily be realized what -a vast amount of all kinds and conditions of stores and equipment -this impedimenta represents for an army of 60,000 men who have been -stationary on a small bit of land for over four months. The work goes -on, punctuated at intervals by a few shells from the enemy’s batteries; -but it is quite normal shelling, and I feel sure the Turks know -nothing. They can see nothing. The Staff work is excellent. The beach -each day appears unchanged. Many troops, beach details, etc., move off. - - -_December 13th._ - -A cold south wind is blowing and makes us all very anxious. Is it -going to develop into another storm which will upset all our well-laid -plans and so place us at the mercy of the Turk? These are anxious -days. We are now issuing rations from the forward reserve stock in the -C.R.E. nullah nightly, and our dump on the beach is now clear. Medical -comforts are liberal, and also milk, which the troops appreciate, but -bread and meat are issued only in very small quantities. The rations -at Hill 10 are untouched, remaining there to be issued should we have -to hold the second line of trenches, which are now complete. Work is -being carried on feverishly for completing the third line. All work -on the low ground has to be done at night, but on the high ground, -where nullahs and dips in the ground afford cover, work goes on by day -and night. Meeting-places have been arranged, where the troops will -concentrate before proceeding to the beaches on the night that they -have orders to evacuate. They are termed “posts,” and are lettered -“W,” “Y,” “Z,” etc., the letters showing illuminated through a dark -background. Of course, all such posts are placed in positions which -are under cover. Each unit is to be guided to the post allotted to -it, there to await orders, which will be telephoned up to the post -from the piers. An officer of the Evacuation Staff will wait at the -post telephone for the message from the beach, after marshalling and -checking the troops on arrival there. - -I see Brigade H.Q. each night now, when I am up at the C.R.E. dump -issuing the daily rations. Their H.Q. are now in the same H.Q. as the -C.R.E. had. Next door is the Brigade H.Q. of a Brigade of artillery, -the guns of which are in position near by in front, just behind and -round about. While there, an officer told me that if necessary his guns -will be putting up a curtain of fire over the Turks should they attempt -to follow on after our troops have evacuated the first line. Their -guns are being left in position for this purpose, and will be rendered -useless after the infantry have passed back. Two medical officers and -about twenty R.A.M.C. men have been detailed to remain at the casualty -clearing station after all troops have left on the last night. Their -duty is to attend to any wounded who may have to be left to fall into -the hands of the Turk, they of course giving themselves up as prisoners. - -If it is at all possible, pinnaces from one of the battleships will be -ready to take them off, provided there are no wounded. Their tents are -being lined with sand-bags as protection against bullets. The Turk will -not shell them. - - -_December 14th._ - -The time gets nearer, yet the aspect of the beaches does not change. -Shelling is about the same, but getting rather bad, at odd, but -fortunately rare, intervals. The days are now lettered, but the letter -of each day is secret to all but a very few. All we know is that when -the last night does arrive it will be “Z” night. I have a shrewd idea -that to-day is either “W” or “V” day, so that the time is near. It will -be hard luck if I collide with a shell now, after dodging them all -these months. What of the schemes for evacuating the first line when -all those in rear are clear away? The line for the last few nights will -be very thinly held by us. - -The second and third lines are thickly wired with barbed wire in front, -which stands in fences 8 feet high. At intervals there are passages -through these fences to allow us to pass through on our way to and -from the line. On the last night these passages will be closed, and -the only way to get through will be by barbed wire gates across the -few roads. Officers will be on duty at these gates, and they will -have fixed thereon telephonic communication to the beaches. The final -evacuation of the front line will be carried out as is the present -daily evacuation of troops, keeping to a strict programme. The officer -in charge of the last party down a certain road will report his unit -and name to the officer in charge of the gate. This will be checked -by the list which the officer will have with him of the last parties -down, and if correct the officer, who will then know that the last -troops have passed through, will telephone this information to the -beach, close and bar the gate, and proceed with the party to the next -line and himself report to the officer at that gate, where the same -procedure will follow. And so on to the beaches, the only way to which -is by the roads. After the last parties have passed through the last -line, then those on the beaches will know that all have passed safely -through, and that there are three lines of trenches thickly protected -by barbed wire between the beaches and the enemy. The last parties to -leave will be hurried on board the waiting destroyers, trawlers, and -ships; the skeleton framework of the Supply depot, the remaining stores -which have been unavoidably left, will be set ablaze by the igniting of -petrol-sodden hay. The remaining officers will make a bolt for the few -remaining pinnaces. That is the scheme. - -The British population of Suvla daily dwindles away, unbeknown to -the ignorant Turk. Ammunition and ordnance and all manner and kind -of stores and equipment are daily disappearing into the holds of the -waiting ships. These ships are not more numerous than the ships which -have lain in the bay in the safety of the boom since August 6th, so -that from their presence our plot is not given away. To the enemy -our daily life appears the same, and he gives us our daily ration of -shells—now of good quality and effective—and no doubt is laughing at -us, with the memory of the recent awful storm and the coming blizzards -of a rigorous winter. If all goes well, if the well-laid schemes of -our G.S. “gang not agley,” and no bloody rearguard action is forced -upon us, it will be our turn to laugh in a few days. To-night the wind -has changed to the north-west; we may hoodwink the Turks, but not -the mighty elements, and we pray that they will be our allies in our -task. If our enemies, then we must give ourselves up in unconditional -surrender, hoping for no mercy. - -Carver has just arrived from Helles on a mission quite apart from -the scheme of evacuation. To our surprise he is unaware that we are -evacuating, and tells us that all at Helles are also ignorant of the -coming event. No preparation of any kind is being made to evacuate -Helles. He leaves again to-night, back for Helles. The 86th Brigade and -part of D.H.Q. are now moving off. I go to “Y” forming-up post, just at -the foot of our gully, and view the scenes there. The beaches have been -shelled this afternoon. If they but drop a few over this evening they -cannot fail to claim many victims. Shadowy figures march up in perfect -order and form up. Roll-calls are made, sharp commands issued: “Stand -at ease!” “Stand easy!” whereupon the figures talk, lean on their -rifles, or lie down resting on the ground. - -Elphinstone is going off with his Brigade, as he is their Supply -Officer. I make him up a box of the plentiful medical comforts, -including a few bottles of champagne for his Brigade H.Q. to feast on -while on board. I say good-bye to many friends in the Brigade, as the -order to move down is telephoned up from West Beach to the officer at -the receiver attached to “Y” post. Troops are called to attention, and -in two deep they march down towards the beach, entering the safety of -the trench that has been dug there, pass in safety behind the mounds -of earth and the small, rocky promontory, and file along the pier in -single file up a gangway on to a small paddle-steamer, which sails out -to the bay to the waiting ship. I listen to the chatter of the Dublin -Fusiliers, to their philosophical comments on the situation, and feel -glad for them that they are seeing the last of this damnable campaign. -One of them has heard “on good authority,” and tells his friend, “that -they are bound for Aldershot.” I leave them and walk back. No shells -come over. Inland I hear the steady crack, crack, crack of the rifles. -I turn into bed. Our Brigade, the old 88th, alone of the Division is -left in the line. - - -_December 15th._ - -The wind is cold and blowing steadily from the north-east, yet the sea -is not too rough for the getting off of stores. Lord Howard de Walden -and General Percival, the Brigadier of the 86th Brigade, which embarked -last night, are now on the beach as part of the regulating Staff of the -evacuation programme. This Staff, controlled by General Fanshawe, is -almost as efficient as could be, with the result that the last stage of -the evacuation is working like clockwork. Every man is accounted for. -_No_ man can leave before his time, _no_ man should be left behind. -Commander Unwin, who gained the V.C. at the landing of April 25th for -gallantry on “V” Beach, is in charge of conveyance of stores, animals, -and men from the beaches to the ships, and night and day he is on duty -on the piers. He stands over 6 feet and is broad in proportion, with -the typical clean-shaven face of a sailor, and with a voice that roars -orders through a megaphone, causing those who are ordered to jump about -a good deal quicker on their jobs than they probably would do otherwise. - -I go down on the beach with a Staff officer this morning after a few -“Good-morning” shells have crashed on the beach roads and on the mounds -of earth, and we call at the embarkation office, in a sand-bagged -house, dug and built in the cover of a rock. There we find a few of the -Staff hard at work. The weather has been kind, and we are up to time -with the programme. We talk to two Yeomanry officers who are on the -Evacuation Staff. Everything is working perfectly, and I feel confident -that we shall succeed in evacuating long before the Turk discovers our -absence. Ships, when loaded full with supplies and passengers, proceed -to Mudros Harbour, where they are unloaded quickly, coming back the -following night. No ships pass to and fro between here and Lemnos -during the day, so that every morning that the Turk wakes up he notices -no extra ships lying anchored or the absence of the ships departed. -The view of the shipping lying in the bay inside the boom appears -unchanged, as is the case of the beaches day by day. - -Regularly at dusk we go up to the C.R.E. nullah and issue rations from -the reserve supplies there. To-night we issue to the 88th Brigade only, -and the work in consequence is quickly finished. The distance to the -line is now short for the A.T. carts to take the rations up, for the -best part of their journey is made empty, namely from the lines at the -end of the promontory to our dump in the C.R.E. nullah. The journey -back to their lines from the trenches is now made with empty carts, for -all forward stores have been evacuated. There is no doubt that the Turk -hears the carts approaching to the various cookhouses, for the carts -rattle and the various parts of the harness clank loudly. Their sound -is certain to be heard by him in his front line, for the nights here -are so still. The Turk fires over towards the direction where he knows -the roads lie, hoping to claim a casualty in mule or man. - -The late two Brigade H.Q. are now uninhabited and closed, and whoever -opens the doors of the several dugouts will be blasted immediately into -eternity by bombs attached to the doors, seats, and cupboards. I see my -Brigade close by our dump in the C.R.E. nullah, and the atmosphere is -cheery and full of confidence. Crack, crack, crack the rifles in front -sing away. I hear one bullet pass, but the few bullets that reach this -nullah are spent in force and drop harmlessly to the ground. - -Major Bailey, as cheery as ever, calls in our dugout when we arrive -back, and we give him a good dinner of tinned roast fowl and champagne -before he embarks with his Field Company. I go down again to “Y” -formation post, and the scene there is the same as last night, shadowy -columns of men arriving in good order, lying down to await telephonic -instructions to proceed to the beach. The beaches are full of hundreds -and hundreds of men moving in single file along the piers and up the -gangways and on board ship, while at little coves near by lighters are -busy feverishly loading with animals, baggage, and remaining equipment. - - -_December 16th._ - -Still no change on the beaches. Still the same fitful white puffs of -Turkish shrapnel over the wooded lowland. Still the “ration” allowance -of Turkish high explosive on to the beaches. And yet tons and tons of -stores and equipment have left, and thousands of men from here are now -safe in the camps at Mudros. A light north-east breeze is blowing with -bright sunshine, and it is very clear. The conditions, for our scheme, -are perfect. Our second line is now crowded with troops, who remain -well under cover during the day. Water for these is a difficulty, as -there are no wells close handy and it has to be carted up to them daily -from the beach. Five 80-gallon tanks are fixed in position along this -line, which are kept full of water as an emergency. Our front line is -but thinly held, and all who pass between this second and front line -must keep to the roads, for the country is freely strewn with all -devices of trip-bombs, which await the Turk should he discover what -we are up to, immediately after we evacuate the front line, and come -on to give us battle. As yet I am certain that he knows nothing, so -well are our Evacuation Staff working. And the last night—“Z” night—is -approaching very near now. I believe to-night is “W” night. I issue as -usual, and visit Brigade H.Q. Take a stroll on the beaches after dinner -to view the scene of men and animals quietly disappearing off the land -that we have shed so much blood in conquering, and then I go off to bed. - - -_December 17th._ - -Early this morning we have showers of rain, which are followed by a -southerly breeze, quickly blowing them away. Brilliant sunshine makes -the day quite hot. During the night I receive orders to issue two days’ -rations to-night to the 88th Brigade and the rest of the Division, -and afterwards to embark with all A.S.C. details along with D.H.Q. I -am down on the beach in the afternoon getting our kits shipped off. -At five o’clock the Turks open fire with two guns on to the beaches -and beach roads, and the first few cause casualties. The shells are -first-class, and burst with a deafening crash. One gun is on Sari -Bair and the other is on the hills on the left of Anafarta. They -continue until shortly after dusk—about 6.20 p.m. Five minutes after, -the beaches are alive with men once more, and the work of evacuation -proceeds energetically. This bout of shelling makes us anxious, as it -would appear that our plot has been discovered. I go up to C.R.E. dump -and issue two days’ rations to the 88th Brigade and the few remaining -odd units. We leave the balance of the reserve supplies. They are -too near the line to be burnt on the last night, and we leave them -as a present of thanksgiving to our enemy, the Turk, who has “played -the game” throughout the campaign. I say good-bye to the Brigade and -express the hope that I shall see them all safe and well in Egypt, -where I believe we are going for a good rest and refitment. Nobody can -deny that the 29th deserve it. - -I go back and have a last meal with Horne. Our camp will be deserted -to-morrow, yet if an enemy aeroplane sails over, no change will be -noted. Our dugouts are left standing intact. I, with the details, go -down to “Y” forming-up post, and there meet, as on previous nights, -parties and companies of men arriving. I call the roll of my men, and -am instructed by the Adjutant of the C.R.E. to fall my men in behind -the D.H.Q. party when the order is telephoned up from West Beach. A -wait of three-quarters of an hour. We hope no shells will arrive. Horne -comes up to say good-bye to me. I wish him good luck, not envying him -his wait of forty-eight hours. - -To-night is “X” night. The order from the beach arrives. All are called -to attention. We march off, through the Main Supply depot, down into -the trench, over the open space of West Beach, along the pier. A short -pause here, of ten minutes, and then in single file we pass up the -gangway over the sunken ships which act as a breakwater to the little -harbour, and so on board a paddle-steamer. In half an hour she is -full. It is a lovely moonlight night. We steam out into the bay, come -alongside a small steamer, and file on board her. I go up on deck and -view the scene of Suvla Bay by moonlight. I can hear the crack of the -rifles from inland—and also voices from the beaches; now and again a -torch is flashed as a lighter crunches upon the beach. With a soft -swishing sound, a lighter glides past us to some other ship. The whole -bay and foreshore is bathed in moonlight, and as I look, all those -eight months of hardships, gloom, and danger pass in review before me. -A feeling as of a great burden being lifted off my mind comes over me, -and a sense of extreme gladness that at last the long-drawn horror is -past—and what horror! “Never again!” I think to myself. “Never again!” - -I look towards Anzac and notice that the whole sky is aflame—the stores -are alight. Probably a stack of supplies which has caught fire by -mistake. And then, as I look, a curious mist arises, low at first, off -the sea—as if with an invisible hand, a cloudy cloak is slowly draped -over the whole Peninsula. First Suvla, then Anzac and the coast line -become blotted out, and I see now nothing but a grey mist. Suvla Bay -and its horrors, its hopes, and disappointments are lost to my sight -for ever—for by the time the mist has dispersed the ship has moved away. - - -_December 18th._ - -After a good night spent on the floor of the wardroom, lying on my -“British warm” with my cap as a pillow, I wake up about 7 a.m., -wondering where on earth I have got to. I hear that now delightful -sound, the pulse of ship’s engines, and know, with a happy feeling, -that I am sailing on a ship to the friendly waters of the harbour of -Lemnos. No breakfast is to be had, for all troops, officers and men, -except myself, have embarked with rations. Stupid of me to forget -myself, when it was my job to see that all troops went off with -rations. I explore the ship and cadge a topping breakfast of eggs and -ham off one of the crew. I go into his cabin and eat it on the Q.T. At -twelve o’clock Lemnos heaves in sight, and at one o’clock we enter the -harbour. It is all but five months since I was here last, and the camps -have doubled and trebled their size, and doubled and trebled their -number. As we pass the French and British battleships, Monitors, and -destroyers, the respective crews come to the sides of their ships and -gaze with interest at us. But there is no demonstration. When I last -passed these ships, five months ago, the crews cheered us, and cheered -again as we passed out to war. Now they look on, gaze at us, and say -nothing. It seems almost a reproval. We take up our moorings amongst -other small ships which have come with troops from the Peninsula, and -after a brief delay are transferred with baggage to the _Southland_. -Ah! this means sailing for Egypt, probably. Egypt! It will be like -sailing home. The _Southland_ was the boat which was torpedoed early in -September. I go and look at the damage that was done. A great hole was -torn in one of her holds, and it was lucky that she was able to reach -Lemnos, fifty miles away from the spot where she was hit. - -We learn that the 86th have passed to Helles, and soon we are to -follow. Good Lord! This is the unkindest cut of all. So we are not -done with it yet. Well, I don’t suppose the Turks will let us get off -scot-free this time. I draw food for the men on board, and at 7.30 p.m. -go down to dinner. The last time that I dined in this saloon was in -those days in April, just before the original landing. The officers of -the K.O.S.B.’s were dining here then, and their bagpipes played them -in to dinner, many for the last time in their lives. We have a merry -dinner-party with champagne. After, I enjoy the luxury of a hot bath -and then turn in. - - -_December 19th._ - -It is topping being on board a nice ship again and back once more -to civilization. I row round with the skipper in the morning to one -or two ships in harbour, and after lunch go over in a pinnace with -some officers to the shore, calling on the _Aragon_ on the way, where -General de Lisle and Colonel O’Hara join us. Firth, O’Hara, and I, -on reaching the land, walk up to a village inshore and buy eggs. It -is delightful being able to stretch one’s legs without having to -carry one’s ears at the “right engage” in expectancy of the whistle -of the enemy shell. We have great fun purchasing eggs from old Greek -ladies—six from one, twelve from another, and so on. When loaded up -with them we get back to the pier, on to a waiting pinnace, and so out -to the _Aragon_, where O’Hara entertains us to tea. We learn that we -are not to be on the Peninsula long—only a matter of three weeks—and -then we and the R.N.D. will be relieved and taken to Egypt. And so the -sooner we are back there, to get it over, the better. We get back to -the _Southland_ and have a cheery dinner, which we make the most of. -To-night is “Z” night, and as we sit talking after dinner we wonder how -the work is proceeding. Last night everything went satisfactorily—no -shelling—and news this morning shows the Turks have spotted no change. - - -_December 20th._ - -Suvla is Turkish once more. All troops left without a casualty. The -evacuation proceeded all day yesterday. The scenes on the beaches -appeared as normal as ever. At nightfall all stores that had been -intended to be evacuated had been safely shipped. All that were left -were the skeleton stacks of supplies, waiting to be set alight, useless -ordnance, and the supply of emergency ammunition. The beaches were -shelled as usual in the day. Night fell, and those left on the beaches, -except the Evacuation Staff, were hastened on to the waiting ships. -At dusk a few Monitors and destroyers quietly slipped into the Bay, -standing by in readiness for a Turkish attack. - -The ration carts that were left were promptly shipped, not a mule being -left—in fact, every hoof was safely embarked. Then began the last -stage. In succeeding waves the remaining troops fell back in perfect -order to the forming-up posts. In a steady stream they were hastened -off on to the waiting ships, until at last the supreme moment arrived. -The message was telephoned to the line that all troops behind those -few men who were waiting a few yards from the unsuspecting Turk had -left Suvla for good and all. Here and there a man fired his rifle as -a farewell salute to our gallant enemy, but no man was permitted to -fire without an order. With their boots wrapped in sand-bags they crept -back, down the communication trenches, out on to the roads, past the -first gate, which was immediately locked, the news of their passing -being telephoned to the beaches. Past the second likewise, then the -third, and then straight to the beaches; finally on board, and hurried -off with great dispatch when the Evacuation Staff knew from their -statistics that Suvla Bay was free of every Britisher but themselves. -Hastily A.S.C. officers run round the frameworks of the Supply stacks -in the depot with lighted torches, and quickly the supplies are ablaze. -Then a rush is made to the waiting pinnaces, which merrily puff out -to the battleships. Meanwhile the officers detailed to wait at the -casualty clearing station are picked up by pinnaces, for no rearguard -action has been necessary: the Turk was lying ignorant of it all in -his trenches, crack-crack-cracking his rifle. If he had only known! At -last not a living Britisher was left on Suvla or Anzac; every dugout, -nook, and cranny was searched, and it was with great interest that the -Evacuation Staff viewed the scene from the battleships as daylight -broke. The fires burnt fiercely and quickly; Turkish shells came over -as if to hasten the destruction of the fire. Complete success had been -the reward of the excellent work of the Staff. - -Still the Turk did not know that we had left. He saw the tents of our -hospitals standing, but the deserted appearance of the beaches must -have made him wonder. The morning wore on. Puzzled, a few venturesome -Turks peeped over the parapets of the trenches. Nothing happened. They -climbed over the top, walked over No-man’s-land into the deserted -trenches, and the secret was discovered. We had evacuated—lock, stock, -and barrel—under their very noses. Down the roads they came in small -parties. A few muffled noises were heard, by which the watchers of this -strange drama from the battleships knew that the bombs that we had laid -cunningly were claiming victims, fighting our battles for us without -our being on the field. And so they came to Lala Baba, and some German -officers, with a characteristic insult to their brave ally, hoisted the -German flag as a token of a German “victory,” though the honours of the -day were with the Turk. He, however, had won not by beating us, but by -our being beaten by Nature—the impregnable fastnesses of the mountains -of Suvla Bay and the Gallipoli winter storms. How a Turk could allow -a German flag to be hoisted is beyond comprehension. One day Germany -will fall shamefully to the dust in the eyes of her Oriental ally, and -Turkey must beware of that day, on which she can expect no mercy. - -The last crowded ships arrive at Mudros Harbour. The shore becomes -thronged with Australian troops, who, more fortunate than ourselves, -are bound for Egypt, while we, after lunch, embark on the _Partridge_, -and sail off with our General once more for the Peninsula. It is a -chilling, depressing voyage to Helles, a journey made by me now for the -third time. I hope it will be my luck to make it yet a fourth time, for -that will be after the war. We have a meal off rations that we have -brought with us. The boat is crowded with troops, and they do not seem -very cheery. Night falls. At eight o’clock we see in the distance the -starlights sailing up and down inland, on the Peninsula, though it is -hard to discern the outline of the shore. Soon the lights of a hospital -ship are discernible ahead. Suddenly, two flashes are seen, one after -the other, from the Asiatic side; two booms of guns are heard, about -fifteen seconds after, followed by two piercing shrieks, and the shells -burst with a bright flash of flame on “W” Beach. And so we are in it -once more. Shortly after, we see the dim outline of the shore. We heave -to and anchor off “V” Beach. After a wait of half an hour, lighters -come alongside, on which we get and are towed to a pier running out -from “V” Beach, which now, in addition to being protected from the -strong currents of the Dardanelles by the _River Clyde_, is protected -from the outer sea by a sunken French battleship, the _Massena_. In -consequence, the water inside the pier is like a millpond, while -outside a heavy swell washes against the sides of the two ships. I am -on “V” Beach once more. It does not seem to have altered much since I -left on August 20th last, but appears perhaps more orderly than it was -then. More light railways are about. - -Foley is there to meet us, and it is good to see him safe and well. Up -to a fortnight ago, he tells me, it was very quiet on the Peninsula—in -fact, they have been playing football matches in the aerodrome, and -on shore, in a large dugout, the band of the R.N.D. have been giving -concerts. But lately two guns from Asia have been throwing over at odd -intervals of the day 8-inch Naval shells, and life on the beaches is -becoming jumpy again. Also some new guns have been placed in position -on the slopes of Achi Baba, which have been worrying the rest camps -further inland. He tells me that the Turkish ammunition had improved in -quality. This was what we had found at Suvla, due to Bulgaria’s entry -into the war as our enemies and the opening of the road from Germany -to Constantinople. The war will not end before this road is cut by the -Allies. We shall never succeed now in forcing the Straits, and so this -road will never be cut in this manner. We must, however, hang on to -this end of the Peninsula, and I pity the troops who will be detailed -for duty to do so through this winter. It will not be the 29th, for -shortly we shall again be leaving, and this time for good. Three weeks, -I think. Three weeks only on “W” Beach, the bull’s-eye of a target. -_C’est la guerre!_ As we march up on to the Helles Plateau we notice -fires burning in the distance up the coast of Suvla—the Suvla Supply -depot and other stacks still burning. - -On arrival on the high ground on the left of “W” Beach looking inland, -I turn into the same dugout which used to be our home in the early -days of this “round in circles” campaign. Matthews is there to welcome -me, and a new officer named Harris. As I turn in, I think of our old -dugout at Suvla, now occupied in all probability by sleeping Turks. -How strange! During the night I am awakened at intervals by loud -explosions. Only Asia firing on “W” Beach at intervals. One bursts on -the slopes of our cliff, and large lumps of earth fall on our tarpaulin -roof. - - -_December 21st._ - -I am awakened by a few shells bursting on the beach. After breakfast -I meet our new C.O., Colonel Huskisson. I dined with him in Ritchie’s -dugout in May last, when he was O.C. Main Supply depot. I learn that -the beaches get shelled now heavier than they were ever shelled -before. During the morning I walk inland with Bell along the light -railway system, which runs from the beaches and branches in several -directions over the Helles Plateau, for a distance of about a mile. -Mules pull small trucks up from the beach to the high ground behind the -beach, where the mules are unhitched and the trucks, with their own -momentum, run down the plateau, which is on a gentle slope. Bell’s idea -is to have a Supply depot at the end of the railway on the plateau, -and to issue from there to Horse Transport, which will come up one -wagon at a time. Should transport collect in any spot on this plateau -it immediately draws shell fire. I am struck by the way transport goes -about in daylight and under observation from the enemy, certainly not -in long convoys, but in single wagons or two or three together. Achi -Baba looks more formidable than ever, and bleaker. In fact, the whole -tip of the Peninsula looks far more cheerless than when I was here last. - -A strong southerly wind is blowing this morning. This afternoon we have -rain, and as night falls our “rest trenches” are sloughs of mud, for -hardly any work appears to have been done on a system of drainage and -the men have no roofing whatever. In fact, at Helles corrugated iron is -practically nil, although at Suvla we did have a small supply. Do they -honestly believe that they can hang on this tiny tip of land during the -winter? - -Just beyond the end of the railway, the ground is thickly lined with -camps, consisting of rest trenches. These now lead right up to the -system of deep trenches forming our front line. Behind where I am -standing at the end of the railway, at a distance of three hundred -yards, there stands a very large hospital of tents and huts. This could -be destroyed utterly by Turkish shell fire in half an hour, yet it -stands untouched. No large bodies of troops or transport are allowed to -collect or pass near, of course, but small parties of two or three may -pass by. D.H.Q. is about two hundred yards behind, dug in, in trenches. -On their left is the West Coast road, overlooking the sea. The 87th are -in the line, and a part of the 86th, the remainder being in rest camp -trenches. The 88th have of course not yet arrived. Our artillery are -practically in the same positions that they were six months ago. - - -_December 22nd._ - -It is quite calm now and a fine day; thus we are given an opportunity -of digging the mud out of the trenches and to work on a system of -drainage. But we want roofing badly. Unlike “V” Beach, now a perfect -harbour, safe against almost any sea, “W” Beach at the first heavy -swell becomes impossible for landing any supplies. Engineers are -busy as usual on the piers, not on construction, but on the work of -repairing the damage done by each spell of rough sea. The storm that -we experienced at Suvla did not spend its fury on Helles, though they -felt the outskirts of its force here—so much so that the flimsy piers -off “W” Beach were almost washed away, and for the time we depended on -the courtesy of our French Allies to land stores and supplies on “V” -Beach. No. 1 Pier here, however, is fairly safe, for we have two small -ships sunk at the end, set at an angle, forming a breakwater; but they -are too small to make the harbour as secure as the one at “V” Beach. -We should have sunk ships six times as large. All along the shore off -“W” Beach lighters lie three deep, washed up by past spells of rough -weather. - -The scheme of having our divisional Supply dump inland has fallen -through, as it is too near D.H.Q. and would be sure to draw shell fire, -which is becoming more and more frequent and effective. We draw at dusk -from Main Supply depot, and at night issue from our divisional dump in -an unsafe spot on the far side of the back of “W” Beach, having to be -careful not to show too many lights. Asia keeps us on the _qui vive_ -all day, and too much activity on the beach will always draw a spell of -shelling. A cloudy evening. At 11 p.m. the 88th Brigade arrive. - - -_December 23rd._ - -It is a fine, cold day. We now walk about on the beach with our ears -always listening for the sound of a gun from Asia or Achi Baba, upon -hearing which we get ready to fling ourselves to the ground or dive -into a dugout. I go along to the H.Q. of the 86th and 88th Brigades, -both built in the side of a cliff just this side of “X” Beach and -almost opposite our D.H.Q. Their dugouts are delightfully cosy little -houses; they are practically safe from shell fire and form a great -contrast to Divisional H.Q., dug a little way to the right in trenches -which are in full view of the enemy and in danger of a shell dropping -plumb on to them at any moment. - -The day drags wearily away. There is nothing much to do but bookwork, -making up accounts, and visits to the Main Supply depot. It is an -extraordinary thing, but almost every time I stroll over to the Supply -depot from our office on the cliff, over comes a shell either from a -howitzer on Achi or “Quick Dick” from Asia. I prefer the howitzer. It -gives you a chance to quickly look round for the nearest dugout and -dive in. Whereas “Quick Dick,” with its boom-whizz-bang, is on you -before you can count two, and leaves you almost gasping, wondering -that you are still standing alive instead of flying through the air -in little bits. Each day victims are claimed. I thought my Q.M.S. -had “got it proper” to-day, but I saw him do a marvellous head-dive -behind a mound, protecting dug-in stables, which saved him. It makes -everybody living on the beach very bad-tempered. At night they drop -them over at intervals. But we are one too many for Asia by night. One -can distinctly see the flash of the gun and can count twenty-three -slowly before the shell arrives. The French are very clever over -dodging these night shells from Asia. A man perched up on a stack of -hay watches Asia intently. He sees a flash, blows loudly on a trumpet, -and everybody gets to cover like rabbits. Result: remarkably few -casualties. Of course, the flash of the gun does not tell whether the -shell is addressed to “V” Beach or “W” Beach, and one cannot fail to at -times be amused, in spite of the grimness of it all, for the lookout -man on “V” Beach might see the flash and give a mighty blast on his -trumpet, whereupon all rush for cover, and twenty-three seconds later -the shell swishes over, not to “V” Beach at all, but to “W” Beach. The -Turkish gunners appear to have their tails very much up, no doubt -through the evacuation of Suvla and Anzac. And enemy airmen are very -daring, swooping right over our lines and at times dropping an odd bomb -or two. Men and transport move about as freely as ever, though, which -is such a contrast to Suvla; though, of course, our line being further -inland than it was at Suvla, the enemy have difficulty in reaching the -transport with shrapnel. If not, probably our transport would not be -so reckless. The roads at the foot of the cliff can no longer be used, -having been made impassable by being washed right away in parts. - - -_December 24th._ - -It is delightful weather and we continue our life, preparing the -figures and accounts to draw the rations at night, and arranging for -their issue. Usual shelling all day. In the afternoon, as I walk across -the plateau to D.H.Q., an enemy aeroplane comes swooping over. I am -near a party of men marching and hear the pop-pop of a machine gun. -Almost immediately after, I hear the swish of bullets and see them kick -up the dust round about. At first I can’t make it out. Then it dawns on -me that the daring aviator is actually firing on the troops near me. I -notice that instead of having a cross painted on his machine he has a -square, which is the sign of the Bulgarian Flying Corps. - -I go back to tea with Farquhar in his lines, dug in trenches on the -cliff-side over Corps H.Q., situated further round the cliff from our -dugouts. As we are at tea, four enemy machines sweep over to “W” Beach, -and shortly after I hear the sound of dropping bombs as they circle -round and round. Our anti-aircraft guns (not plentiful) endeavour -to bring them down, but they circle round unconcerned, and having -discharged about thirty bombs, swing round and make back for their -lines, keeping out to sea off the coast. - -I get back to the beach and find that their bombs have caused many -casualties. To my great sorrow I learn that Cox, of the Essex, has been -hit clean with one, and also a friend of the same regiment, both being -killed instantly. They had come down from the rest camp to purchase -some luxuries for the canteen for Christmas Day. After sticking it all -this time to be killed like this, just two weeks before the time when -the Division is to be relieved for good, is really far worse luck than -met Algy Wood, of the same regiment. And now there are no more of the -original Essex officers left. - -It has been rough to-day, especially at Imbros, which has a very -exposed harbour, and in consequence it has been possible to issue only -a very small percentage of fresh meat. It is bad luck, for to-morrow -is Christmas Day, and I should like to have given the Division a full -issue of fresh meat. However, a consignment of Christmas puddings has -arrived from Lady Hamilton’s Fund and will be issued. We were promised -many other luxuries, such as oranges and other fruits, but these have -not arrived, owing to the difficulty of transport by sea. And so, for -the majority of the men of the Division and all troops inshore, bully -beef will take the place of the customary roast beef and turkey. - - -_December 25th._ - -It is very beautiful weather. We do the best we can for the troops in -the way of supplies, but it has to be bully beef and Christmas puddings -for their dinners. The Turks are unusually quiet. I believe they know -that it is our Christmas Day. We have a Christmas dinner in our dugout -and a very cheery time. One of the cheeriest Christmas dinners I have -ever had. Parcels from home pooled helped to make a good spread, and -one can make excellent rissoles from bully beef. - - -_December 26th, 27th, 28th, and 29th._ - -Visits to Brigade and to D.H.Q. and journeys to and from our dugout -office and Main Supply depot are the order of the day. Usual shelling, -far more trying than any we have ever experienced before. Enemy -aeroplanes now and again try to come over, but are driven back by our -planes. Cold but fine. - -We have to send in an estimate of transport required to cart baggage -back from battalions to beaches. This no doubt means we are off -shortly. I hope so, as I am getting fed-up with this Diary. But it -seems strange to be making plans to get off again, when we have only -just arrived back. - - -_December 30th._ - -To-day we hear the news secretly that we are evacuating Helles -altogether. They are having a conference at Corps H.Q. this morning on -the plans. I am sent for by the Engineer officer in charge of works -on the beach, and he questions me closely on the plans that were -followed at the last evacuation. But I can tell him little or nothing -beyond what I personally observed. I am afraid that we shall not be -able to get away supplies and stores so easily as we were able to at -Suvla, and quantities will have to be left. For the beaches are under -close observation from Yen-i-Shehr and Kum Kale, and now that we have -already hoodwinked them once, the second evacuation will have to be -done very carefully. Therefore our only chance of getting away stores -is by night, and animals, guns, and personnel must come first. The -first thing, therefore, is to get up forward supplies in sufficient -quantities to last out the remaining days, and I receive orders to get -these up for the 87th and 88th Brigades, for again we are to be last -off. - -I expected this second evacuation. Nearly everybody expected it. We -have been told that IX Corps would relieve VIII Corps, but to those of -us who experienced the Suvla storm, the idea of hanging on here after -Suvla and Anzac had been evacuated was impossible to consider. But this -evacuation we think will be a very different matter, with the Turks -expecting us to endeavour to make it. Transport will be the difficulty -during these last few days, but fortunately the tramway comes in handy -to-night in getting up rations to the 86th and 88th Brigades, and we -manage successfully. We draw the rations from the Main Supply depot -in bulk, apportion them out to units, and load them on the trucks on -the line in the centre of the depot itself. Mules then pull them to -the slope, down which they run of their own accord to the plateau with -men acting as brakesmen. Those trucks which have to be pulled further -inland are pulled by mules up a line which runs still nearer to the -trenches. The rations are off-loaded on arrival at their destination, -and man-handled over their remaining journey. By this means much more -horse transport is cut out, which can in a few days be evacuated. But -before then this transport must be used solely in getting back surplus -kit. We put up the first batch of the reserve supplies. - -An arduous night, and we get to bed in the small hours of the morning. -All day we had intervals of howitzers from Achi and Asia’s shells. Not -much longer now, thank God! - - -_December 31st._ - -The last day of a damnable year. Honours in favour of the enemy. Luck -all against us. But our turn will come before another year is out. In -the morning the Turks heavily shell our front line reserve areas; and -D.H.Q., of course, being only just in rear, get it badly. All day the -beaches suffer. Life on the beaches is like a game of musical chairs. -Instead of sitting down on a chair when the music stops, you promptly -fling yourself behind cover when a shell arrives. I am a perfect -tumbler now, and after the war will give exhibitions of the many -different antics that one performs when dodging shells. A New Year’s -dinner, as cheery as the Christmas dinner, but broken by visits to the -Main Supply depot to send off the rations by tram, and then to bed. - - - - - JANUARY 1916 - - -_January 1st._ - -To-day is New Year’s Day. At this time last year this Peninsula was as -peaceful a part of the world as one could find in any neutral country, -though its rulers were allies of our chief enemies. To-day, a year -after, we are nearing the fall of the curtain on the final act of one -of the greatest tragedies of history. The curtain of the first act -was rung up on a scene beautiful and romantic in its setting eight -months ago, which changed, as the play developed, to scenes of gallant -endeavour and Death in all his nakedness. The final act, the tragic -last scene of defeat without disgrace, is full of sadness, and the -great audience, although held spellbound watching and waiting, will be -full of relief when the curtain drops for good. - -It is strange to think, as I walk about once more on “W” Beach, that -Suvla and Anzac no longer harbour British ships or house British -troops, and that Turks now walk about unmolested in our late trenches -and shelter themselves at night in our late dugouts. In a few days now -Turks will be sitting in the place in which I am writing these notes. -They are welcome, for our attempts to open their gates have failed. -We have lost the game, but we have not been beaten by the Turks. They -are no match for our troops. We have been beaten by Nature, or the -geographical fastnesses of this impregnable Peninsula and the storms of -winter. The new year is heralded in on “W” Beach by the shells of a big -howitzer on the left shoulder of Achi Baba bursting with a deafening -crash on the high ground of the beach, throwing large jagged splinters -within a radius of two hundred yards. When such a shell bursts, all -within that radius drop flat to earth or dive into a dugout. I am sure -that people living further inland or in the trenches, if they have not -lived on the beach, do not realize the great strain on the nerves that -work under steady, effective shell fire is on this beach, cooped up as -we are in such a small space, which is all a target, not to say the -chief target, of the Turkish gunners. - -The 29th A.S.C. men are sticking it well. I think they guess that we -are evacuating, and are therefore cheery. Issuing by day, as in the -early days, is now out of the question. We issue at dusk, and even -then in danger of a shell in our depot. But the A.S.C., or the “Army -Safety Corps” as it is termed by many in France, must never cease doing -its job, for a man in the front line is hungry three times a day. As -S.S.O., my job now is to see that the four Supply Officers’ indents are -satisfied in full, namely the Supply Officers of the 86th, 87th, 88th -Brigades and the Divisional Artillery. I must get the food ready at -our depot for the night’s issue for each group, out of which the four -S.O.’s must see that their troops and animals get their full ration. -Their respective jobs are far more trying than is mine now, for the -difficulties of getting the supplies from the beach to the troops have -increased a hundredfold. - -The Main Supply depot is still in the same spot as in the days of -May, and there they must see that my indents are satisfied. Now they -are drawing on their reserve, and, as in the case of the evacuation -of Suvla, they are issuing from the inside of the large stacks of -supplies, for to the Turk these stacks must not appear to grow smaller. -The outside walls must be kept standing, and when the time comes the -depot officers will set them ablaze with hay and petrol, and long -before the Turk can reach the beaches they should be raging furnaces. -The Main Supply depot office is still in the same place as of old, -built out of supply boxes. Several times it has been blown down by a -Turkish shell, and why it has not been shifted I cannot think. More -shells are bursting daily round this depot during these days than burst -in a week of June on the whole of “W” Beach. If the Turks then had had -half the artillery that they have now, I do not think that we would -be here to-day. Smart, the depot Supply Officer, who was wounded in -August and who is now back sitting in the same old place, holds up his -ruler to me this morning, the same ruler which was the stakes of the -bet I had with him in the early days, that Achi Baba would be taken by -June 30th, and says with a smile, “This ruler is still mine, and Achi -Baba still belongs to Turkey.” Outside, Achi Baba looks more forbidding -than ever, like the head of a huge vulture waiting to spring. - -Howitzer shells are dropping along the road, and as I want to go up to -86th and 88th Brigade H.Q. with Horne, we go along the cliff’s edge by -the Greek camp, still in the same place. The two Brigade H.Q. are in a -delightful spot, dug in on the side of the cliff just this side of “X” -Beach. I have a chat with General Williams and Sinclair Thompson. I -enjoy going there. It is absolutely off the target, though, as things -are now, one would think that there could be no spot on this tiny tip -of land where one could live at all for long. Back for lunch. At three -o’clock we are shelled badly in our quarter by howitzers from the hill -and by Asia’s “Quick Dick,” which is on you before one can duck almost. - -General Birdwood has been here and had a look round. As before -mentioned, the 29th are to be last. It is rather a lot to ask of the -86th and 88th after that storm and the strain of one evacuation, but -it shows G.H.Q. put a great value on us. Up to midnight I am at the -Main Supply depot drawing the remainder of reserve supplies for six -days for the Division, which are being put up in Leith Walk and Clapham -Junction respectively for the 87th and 88th Brigades. As in the case -of the evacuation at Suvla, the 86th Brigade leave shortly. Officers -and men on “W” Beach are falling sick fast, with the continual strain -of shelling, and in view of the evacuation are being sent off at once. -There are one or two cases of men losing their reason. - - -_January 2nd._ - -The sea was very rough last night, and in consequence the evacuation -was very much delayed. We are now being subjected to very severe -shelling. From three o’clock yesterday to nine o’clock this morning -three howitzers, two from behind Krithia and one on the right shoulder -of Achi, have been throwing big high explosive shells over to us on -the beaches steadily. This is the severest spell on record, and it is -evident that they are expecting us to go soon and are making it as -hard as possible. Afterwards we were shelled in jerks to midday. At -seven o’clock to-night Horne and I go up to Krithia Nullah or Clapham -Junction. It is very dark, and the road is pockmarked with shell-holes. -I miss the familiar landmark of the white pillars. I remember now that -they told me while I was at Suvla that they had been demolished by our -Engineers. We have a forward reserve dump at Clapham Junction, which we -start eating into to-morrow. 88th Brigade H.Q. is just near by, dug-in -in trenches, and on calling there we are invited to dinner. We have a -Christmas pudding, which is brought in alight with brandy. It seems -strange following this old custom in a dugout, with bullets zipping -over outside and within eight hundred yards of the Turks. - -Coming out of the dugout on to the road, I notice bullets flying about -much freer than usual, the Turks being more energetic over their -practice of firing their rifles at night than they ever were before. -All the time, as we walk back, we hear the Turkish howitzers sending -over their consignment of high explosives to “W” Beach. After ten -minutes’ walk we hear a shell coming bang at us, firing at a battery -close by; but it is a small dud, and it goes “fut” into the ground. -As we approach nearer and nearer to “W” Beach we hear their “hows” -whining away overhead. They sound so harmless, and seem to take quite -a time sailing through the air, but the sound of them crashing on the -beach rather inclines us to slacken our pace. On approaching the Main -Supply depot, however, we quicken our pace, and passing through it, -arrive at the wood-stacks, when we hear one of their whiners sailing -over. Quickly we duck behind the wood as it bursts short of the Supply -depot. We get up and walk briskly to our dugout, and just as we descend -the steps on the cliff-side we hear another. We dive into Hyslop’s -dugout precipitously as it bursts with a crash forty yards behind us. -Afterwards a pinnace alongside No. 1 Pier is afire, set ablaze by a -direct hit from a shell. Bed, and we go to sleep hearing the shells -explode in various parts of the beach at short intervals. Fortunately -these shells do not reach the water’s edge and cannot impede the final -stage of the evacuation. It is only Asia that upsets this. - - -_January 3rd._ - -Some of the staff of the Main Supply depot have now left. Last night -some animals, including the A.T. cart-mules, were evacuated. They -are led, coaxed, and whipped on to the lighters from the piers. The -lighters are then towed out to the waiting ships, which have come in -under the cover of darkness, and the animals are slung on board. It -is strenuous work for those detailed for the job, especially with a -heavy swell. The personnel are sent off from “V” Beach, and they do -not waste time hanging about the open spaces of the beach, but make -for the cover of the _River Clyde_ and the fort as soon as possible. -The man with the trumpet is kept busy giving warning against Asia’s -shells. Weakly men are being hurried off. Surplus kit, office records, -also. Forward reserves of ammunition are being placed in the Eski -Lines, which run across the Peninsula, and each man and machine gun -has a reserve of small ammunition. Also a reserve is kept on the -beaches. On the last day our Division will have about three thousand -men left. We start eating into our seven days’ forward reserves to-day. -The Egyptian shepherds, who provided meat for the Drabis of the Mule -Corps, with their sheep, have left to-day. The casualties from shell -fire are becoming more and more frequent on the beaches now. The -86th Brigade leave to-night, and the balance of those men who were -prevented from getting off by the rough sea of last night. In fact, -many men had to leave by daylight this morning, risking the Turks’ -observation. The French try a very clever ruse by lighting a stack of -hay, which, smouldering only, causes heavy columns of smoke to drift -over Sed-el-Bahr and away out over the Straits, which enables them to -ship quite a lot of animals under its screen in broad daylight. Enemy -aeroplanes are busy trying to get over to the beaches all day, but -are successfully kept at bay by our anti-aircraft guns and aeroplane -patrols. A strong wind is blowing from the north-east, and it looks -like a change in the weather, causing anxiety to us all. As usual, all -to-day and continuing to-night, the beaches and their approaches have -been heavily shelled. Our Monitors have been energetically replying. - - -_January 4th._ - -This morning we have intermittent shelling, in twos and threes and in -fits and starts. Just before lunch, while standing at the door of our -dugout on the top of the cliff, I see a destroyer come right in shore, -and swinging round quickly, she anchors. I see a group of Naval and -Military officers on deck, who climb down the companion into a pinnace, -which takes them to No. 1 Pier. I turn my glasses on to them and see -that the party consists of General Birdwood, the Army Commander, an -Admiral, two Naval and two Army officers. They slowly walk along the -pier, and I cannot help feeling anxious for them, for Asia has put one -of her beauties close to No. 1 Pier a short while before. They turn to -the left and walk along the road at the foot of the cliffs. Just as -they are passing immediately beneath our “bivvy,” two howitzer shells -burst with a deafening report on the beach. General Birdwood never -turns his head, but I notice that the two other officers following -behind look anxiously over their shoulders. They go up to VIII Corps -H.Q., and after lunch a conference is held. Afterwards General Birdwood -sends over to the Mule-cart Corps on the high ground between “W” and -“V” Beach for an old Native officer whom he has known for many years in -India. He is a fine old man, and a splendid type of the loyal Native -soldier. Of course, he was overcome with delight at meeting the General -once more, who told him to assure all the Native drivers and their -N.C.O.’s with the Mule Corps that our evacuation was a strategical -move, made for the best, and not in any way to be interpreted as a -disaster. The Native mind is so different from our own, and though they -are as loyal as any of our troops, one feels anxious to prevent them -from losing their confidence. - -As a result of the conference, the progress of the stages of the -evacuation must be speeded up. Personnel and animals must at all costs -be dealt with first, and as the sands are running low, it will now be -necessary to begin evacuating animals by day and risk the shelling. -This morning the sea has been dead calm and perfect for our purpose, -but the Navy say that they expect a southerly gale. We, of course, -dread a southerly gale. It is a very trying and anxious time, and -the shelling is now almost continuous. Certainly only a few guns are -turned on to the beaches, but sufficient to upset and impede our work. -Six shells may come over from the howitzers on Achi at ten, three -from Asia at eleven, four from Achi at 11.30, then from twelve to one -probably twenty from Achi and Asia, all on to the camps and depots in -the confined space of “W” Beach. All the while casualties occur. As a -contrast, the evacuations of Suvla and Anzac were child’s play to that -of Helles. The Monitors are busily replying, and I think cause their -guns to stop now and again. All the afternoon the beach gets shelled. -Asia now and again puts some very nasty ones near our bivouac, and -once we all had to take cover in two tunnels in the side of the cliff -to our left, where they have been quarrying for stone. At 8 p.m. a -gale springs up and the embarkation is greatly hampered. They found -it impossible to embark the mules on the transport when the lighters -arrived alongside. One lighter, loaded with mules, carts, and drivers, -breaks away and quickly goes drifting out to sea towards Asia, becoming -lost in the darkness of the night. All night we get shelled every -quarter of an hour. - - -_January 5th._ - -It is very windy and the sea rough, yet the evacuation of animals -proceeds by day as well as by night, regardless of whether we are seen -or not. But a large number of animals will, I am afraid, have to be -left, and in consequence be killed on the last day. I do not know which -day “Z” day is, but I hear that it has been postponed in consequence -of the rough sea. The shelling is as bad as ever on the beaches. Now, -in addition to guns on Achi and on the Asiatic side opposite Morto Bay, -a four-gun Turkish battery comes into position by Kum Kale and manages -to reach the water’s edge of “W” Beach and “V” Beach with shrapnel, but -a Monitor, quickly getting on to it, very soon silences it. No enemy -gun can ever be in position on this point for long. - -Asia gives us a bad time in the afternoon and puts some nasty ones -near our bivouac, and again we have to take refuge in the tunnel. -Monitors are busy bombarding Achi, and a cruiser with an aeroplane up -spotting for her is hard at work trying to find the Asiatic gun. Enemy -aeroplanes as usual make persevering endeavours to come over “W” Beach, -but each time are driven off by our airmen. Our anti-aircraft guns -never hit anything. The enemy aircraft now try to fly over “W” Beach -by approaching it from the sea, and many an exciting chase and duel -is daily witnessed between our planes and theirs, ours always holding -mastery of the air. - -The sea is getting calmer, and at night an odd shell comes over at -intervals of half an hour or so. The lighter loaded with the mules -and their drivers which broke adrift yesterday owing to the rough sea -drifted fortunately on to Rabbit Islands, and her freight was picked up -by a Monitor. - - -_January 6th._ - -A lovely calm morning. The shelling has quietened down considerably. I -think the Monitors have been frightening the Turkish gunners somewhat. -Also Asia is not worrying us, thank God! and yesterday’s bombardment -from the cruiser has probably done a lot of good. The sea is like -glass, and the conditions are perfect for evacuation. The same policy -is being followed in getting the last troops off on “Z” night as was -followed at Suvla, but quantities of material, ordnance, and R.E. -stores will have to be left. The reserve ammunition in the keeps on the -beaches on the last night will be blown up just before we leave. - -Enemy aeroplanes are over in the morning, showing great daring and -keeping our airmen very busy. The beaches are crowded with mules, -wagons, and fatigue parties hard at work at loading the lighters. -There is no attempt at concealing what we are doing. But the Turk does -not know which night is our last, and if we can manage to keep him -in ignorance, then we can get off the last night without a rearguard -action being fought, for John Turk does not like leaping over the top. -Our Monitors, destroyers, and two cruisers keep the Turkish artillery -much quieter than they were a few days ago, though at intervals they -give us a very bad time on the beaches. A large number of personnel go -off, including the 29th Division Train with all their animals. Only -myself, the Adjutant, and one or two other officers and a handful of -men are left to stand by in case the last day is delayed and troops -require food. - -At present, all on shore are rationed up to next Tuesday night. All the -Greeks have left. - - -_January 7th._ - -It is another beautiful morning, and the wind is in the north-east. We -had some rain in the night, and in consequence the ground is rather -muddy. All transport is now under the control of the VIII Corps -Transport Depot. The shooting of those animals which it will not be -possible to get off to-night will be begun and finished off to-morrow, -and all vehicles left will be destroyed. This morning I walk up with -Hyslop to D.H.Q. As we pass the Stationary Hospital we see a cluster -of mules wandering about, grazing on the scanty grass that is still -growing in odd patches on the plateau. We hear the whistle of a shell, -which proves a very small one and a dud, and which falls in the middle -of them with a “fut.” They jump about a bit, and then calmly go on -smelling for grass. Soon after another follows, also a dud. Evidently -the Turkish gunner who has fired is a sportsman, and has made a bet -with another that he will get a bull’s-eye first shot. Soon after we -hear the whine overhead of the howitzer shells, travelling seemingly to -“W” Beach, fired in grim earnest and not as a sporting shot, like the -two duds at the mules. - -Looking at the gunnery from the Turkish gunners’ point of view, it must -have been all through this campaign a sort of series of field days for -them, with their guns in position on commanding heights, and with the -targets nearly always open sights and on the low lands. It is fortunate -for us that only lately they have been receiving regular supplies of -good ammunition. If they had had the artillery that the Germans had -before Ypres, twenty-four hours on any single day throughout the eight -months that we have been here would have turned the campaign in favour -of Turkey, and meant utter defeat and unconditional surrender for us. -As we are therefore at the end of it all, and shall soon once more -hand back to Turkey the remaining insignificant few acres of ground -that we had captured and held after so much gallantry, endurance, and -bloodshed, we must be thankful and congratulate ourselves that we -are disentangled from the quagmire with our Army intact. I may have -spoken too soon, but if we are as fortunate as we were at Suvla, we can -disappear in a night, although the enemy knows we are going. We expect -him to attack shortly to test our strength. If we hold him and inflict -losses on him, that will keep him quiet for a day or so; during these -days we have our great chance to evacuate without loss, and with our -Army intact. - -We get very heavily shelled in the afternoon, several from Asia -bursting within a few yards of our office and one actually at the mouth -of the tunnel, which was crowded with men taking cover. While this is -going on the enemy make a concentrated bombardment on a part of our -front line held by the 13th Division and a part of the 87th Brigade. -It lasted continuously from 3.30 p.m. to 5.30 p.m., and caused about -a hundred and fifty casualties. At the end they made half-hearted -attempts to leave their trenches to attack ours, but the few small -parties that had the bravery to get out into No-man’s-land were stopped -dead by our machine-gun fire, and the show petered out. Now, therefore, -is our chance, either to-night or to-morrow. This afternoon’s attack -was probably made to test our strength, and as they suffered as much as -we did, if not more, they will pause awhile before attacking again. - -After this attack finished, the shelling on the beaches almost entirely -ceased, and when night fell I was able in peace to start a job which -proved very tedious, namely of putting up rations, ammunition, and -water in petrol-cans into a dugout on “W” Beach, where it would be -useful in case of a rearguard action. The filling of the petrol-cans -is the tedious part of the job, the cans having to be let down by a -rope into the reservoir, which lies twenty yards from our dugout on the -top of the cliff. While I am in the middle of this job, an order from -VIII Corps H.Q. comes that I am to leave with all the A.S.C. details -to-night. As I have already received an order from D.H.Q. to go off -to-morrow night, I reply that I am sending the men with the remaining -officers and am going with D.H.Q. to-morrow. I get two gallons of -water, some bully, biscuits, and cheese put in my dugout. I send all -my kit off with my servant, who places some hay on the floor for my -bed for this, my last night, and go back to finish the job I am on. -To-morrow will be monotonous, waiting for the evening with nothing to -do; but I have a good book to read and plenty of tobacco, and the day -will soon pass. I am to go off at 6 p.m. - -At 10 p.m. a written order comes down from VIII Corps that I am to -go off to-night with the others, for to-morrow is “Z” night, and the -beaches must be cleared as far as possible of non-combatant details. -I go to VIII Corps Signals and telephone D.H.Q., who say I can go. -I finish the job of putting the water in cans in the keep at twelve -midnight and go back to my dugout. All have left except five men. Two -of them landed with me on “W” Beach on the first day. - - -_January 8th._ - -It is now the beginning of “Z” day, and we three stand on “W” Beach -waiting orders to go on No. 1 Pier. As we stand in the heavy sand, my -thoughts immediately go back to the night of April 25th, where in the -same place as I am now standing we were labouring carrying boxes of -supplies up the beach. I feel as if I have gone round in a complete -circle. That is what has happened with the Gallipoli Campaign: it has -indeed gone round in a complete circle. - -The beach is alive with troops, and animals are being feverishly -embarked. About two hundred have been shot to-night, though, and some -men actually cried as they performed that horrid task. Fortunately -there is little shelling. One now and again bursts on the high ground -of the beach. - -An M.L.O. comes along the pier and instructs us to file along on board. -We pass up the pier, up a gangway, over one of the sunken ships, and -on to a small ship moored on the further side. The five N.C.O.’s go to -their quarters and I go to the wardroom, where my name and particulars -of my command (strength numbering five) are taken. And then I have a -whisky and soda and a cigar. - -Phew! the relief. “W” Beach the last few weeks!... Let’s forget about -it! - - -_2.30 a.m._ - -The ship is now nearly full up with troops, and an officer comes in to -say we are off. I go up on deck and find that they are just weighing -anchor. It is tricky work getting a ship away from improvised piers. -The captain is the same Naval officer who used to command the _Whitby -Abbey_, which took me to Lemnos and back in July last. To-morrow night -will be his last trip to Gallipoli. - -At last, after a lot of manœuvring, he shouts from the bridge “All -clear aft?” and a voice answers, “Aye, aye, sir,” then “Full steam -ahead,” and we swing round and head out to sea. I watch the lights on -shore gradually disappear. One I notice by VIII Corps H.Q., being at -the top of a post, flickers out and on as regularly as the ticking of a -clock. What it meant I don’t know. I have noticed it before during the -past few days. Asia fires to “V” Beach, and Achi sends a couple which -burst on the high ground at the back of “W” Beach. The lights and the -outskirts of the shore disappear. I still see the starlights sailing in -the darkness of the night. These soon disappear. For me the adventures -of Gallipoli are no longer realities, but bad memories, and I turn into -the wardroom to sleep. - - -_8 a.m._ - -We enter Mudros Harbour, chockfull of warships and transports, those on -board leaning over the side and watching us with interest. - -Eight and a half months have passed since those days in April before -the landing, and the scenes are almost the same to-day. It seems eight -and a half years ago. - -I go ashore and meet a friend at one of the Supply depots, who makes me -a guest of the mess. We have a cheery evening. - - -_January 9th._ - -We hear the good news that the evacuation went off splendidly. It was a -perfect day. The beaches were shelled as usual at intervals by day, but -our Monitors, destroyers and two cruisers kept their fire under. The -Turks apparently appeared to have expended their energies on the 7th, -and kept quiet. The programme followed at Suvla was followed at Helles. -At 6 p.m. the final stage of getting the men off was started, and they -were rapidly shipped immediately as they arrived at the forming-up -posts. The beaches were shelled fitfully, and casualties in consequence -occurred, but they can only be put down as normal casualties which have -been daily occurring through the enemy artillery activity. - -The last parties in the line were got away by the same procedure as -was followed at Suvla, passing down the roads, their passage being -telephoned to the beaches by the officers on duty at the gates. So well -managed was it that it was found possible to get many troops off in -advance of the scheduled time of departure. - -D.H.Q. embarked by motor-launch on to H.M.S. _Prince George_. An enemy -submarine was about and discharged a torpedo at the _Prince George_, -but by wonderful luck it failed to explode, but shook the ship from bow -to stern. - -At 2.30 a.m. all men had gone; only animals were left and vehicles, and -I think some animals were left to fall into the Turks’ hands alive. - - -_January 10th._ - -Go on board the _Scotian_ with D.H.Q. 29th Division and part of the -29th Division. - - -_January 11th._ - -Leave Mudros Harbour at eight. Day fine, and comfortable boat. Troops -in good spirits. Boat drill at 10.30 a.m. Submarine lookout all round -ship. Boat drill at 4 p.m. Three spy prisoners on board—two Greeks and -one other. One Greek sitting in corner of deck telling his beads all -the time. The others walk up and down looking very serious. Serious -cases, and things look very black for them. - - -_January 12th._ - -Beautiful day. Zigzagging a lot to avoid submarines. Doing fifteen -knots. Steer east in morning towards Palestine. Afternoon, head for -Alexandria with a zigzagging course. - - -_January 13th._ - -Arrive Alexandria Harbour at six o’clock in the morning. Arabs come -on board and sell papers. Have a curiously delightful feeling of -homecoming. Alexandria seems just like home now, after all those months -in Gallipoli. Harbour full of troopships. Go into the town in the -afternoon. Delightful walking about the shops and civilization again. -Send cable home. Back on ship again for dinner. - - -_8.30 p.m._ - -Embark on troop train. Cattle trucks mostly. I sleep with Grant and -Firth, Divisional Signal Officer, in luggage van. Damned uncomfortable -journey. - - -_January 14th._ - -We arrive at a junction at 9 a.m., and hear that an engine is off -the line at the next station. Broken-down, dirty Arab village just -opposite, and an oasis. Nothing else but sandy desert. Wait all day -and have to wire for rations. New Zealand A.S.C. comes to our rescue -with supplies. Issue same to troops on our train and also to another -troop train behind us, with troops on board from Ypres. Troops amuse -themselves with football in the afternoon, much to the natives’ -interest. Arab boys now and again join in, causing amusement. Eight -o’clock in the evening we get up a smoking concert on the side of -the line. I have been to some curious smoking concerts during the -war, but this one (now on) will live in my memory. Desert, moonlight, -troop trains lit up, a bit of a fire, and around, Tommies fresh from -Gallipoli enjoying the fun to the full. What a nation! We never had a -chance at Gallipoli. Let’s forget about it. - - -_10 p.m._ - -“God save the King” sung, and then off to bed! - - -_January 15th._ - -Woke up at twelve midnight; ration train arrives with rations for -to-morrow, in case we cannot get on. - - -_2 a.m._ - -Train ordered to move. Get up and load rations on to the train. Arrive -Suez 10 a.m., and go on to New Camp. For last hour I did a bit of -stoking on engine. Rather unique, stoking an engine in an Egyptian -desert. Arrive at a large camp, the largest that I have ever been into. -Tents everywhere, laid out in perfect order. Coolies, Arabs, and Hindus -unloading stores from trains, which arrive at frequent intervals on the -single line running through the camp. - - - - - EPILOGUE - - -_January 20th._ - -Finds me in camp with a tent to myself and things working smoothly; -everything, as far as humanly possible, is ready for any eventuality, -and the Turk, if he tries any tricks, will get his knuckles badly -rapped. The K.O.S.B.’s go by to the wild, inspiring strains of the -pipes. Everything is bustle—trains shunting, stores coming up, horsemen -and guns moving into position, and there is an air of expectancy over -everything. And so these random notes come to an end. I am back in camp -with the horrors of the Peninsula left behind me for ever. Of those who -sailed from England so lightheartedly in March, few are left, but those -that remain are attached to each other by invisible fetters. Those -strange months—dull and exciting, tragic and humorous, spent under the -eye of the enemy on an alien shore—form a common bond between us. All -of us now know the full meaning of Life, and all of us have walked, -not once, but many times, with Death on the grim Peninsula. We have -been beaten—not so much by the enemy as by climatic and geographical -conditions; but beaten we are, and nothing remains but to accept defeat -like sportsmen. - - - - - INDEX - - - “A” Battery, 256 - - “A” Beach, 205 - - A.S.C., difficulties of, 107, 130, 200, 311 - - _Abercrombie_, H.M.S., 146, 186 - - Achi Baba, 45, 58, 68, 72, 73, 77; - aeroplanes over, 79, 81, 83, 97; - shells on, 120, 158; - bombardment from, 179 - - Addison, killed, 48 - - Aeroplane, French, falls in sea, 130; - English, falls in sea, 177; - down on Salt Lake, 246 - - _Agamemnon_, H.M.S., attacked, 101 - - _Alaunia_, S.S., 169 - - _Albion_, H.M.S., 119 - - Alexandria, arrival at, 24; - German liners at, 25; - description of, 25; - in hospital at, 165; - return to, 323 - - Anafarta, 189, 204 - - _Anglo-Egyptian_, S.S., 168 - - Anzac, 187, 202; - strafe at, 241 - - _Aragon_, S.S., 26, 27, 161, 171, 298 - - _Arcadian_, S.S., 23, 27, 50, 60, 73 - - Armstrong, Captain, 264 - - Ashmead-Bartlett, 87 - - Asia, coast of, 70; - shelled from, 129; - heavy shelling from, 135 - - “Asiatic Annie,” 130, 131, 139 - - _Askold_, 28, 29, 31, 81, 126 - - _Aucania_, S.S., 29 - - Australians, 78, 79, 96, 156, 162, 204; - Engineers, 213 - - - B9, H.M.S., visited, 116 - - B10, H.M.S., visited, 127 - - “B” Beach, 204 - - Bailey, Major, 273, 294 - - Baker, Sir Randolph, wounded, 244 - - Bakery, 102 - - Balfour, invalided, 177 - - Barlow, Major, 69; - wounded, 77 - - Baxter, Quartermaster, 224 - - Bayfield, Captain, 27 - - Beadon, Colonel, 55, 56, 59 - - Beckwith, Major, 132 - - Beetleheimer, 119 - - Birch, Lieutenant, 139 - - Birdwood, General, 315 - - Blackburn, Major, 199 - - Blizzard, the great, 272 - - Boomerang Fort, 146; - captured, 148 - - Bray, 209 - - Brock, 157 - - Bruce, Colonel, 165 - - Bruce’s Ravine, 197 - - Burnt Hill, 204; - taken and retaken, 211 - - Bush, Captain, 92; - killed, 122 - - Butler, Lieutenant, 220 - - Byng, General, 282 - - - “C” Beach, 203; - badly shelled, 268 - - _Canopus_, H.M.S., 247, 261 - - Carrington-Smith, Colonel, 47, 48 - - Carver, 43, 54, 73, 75, 136, 212, 225 - - Castra, 220 - - Casualties, 156; - on beach, 242, 245 - - Cayley, Colonel, 129, 134; - Brigadier-General, 176; - narrow escape of, 242, 263, 274, 282 - - Chanak searchlight, 64 - - Chocolate Hill, 202, 204, 206, 211 - - Christmas Day, 307 - - Church Farm, 89, 91 - - “Clapham Junction,” 90, 145, 312 - - Collier, Major, 177; - leaves, 235 - - Cooke, joins, 235 - - Cooper, 38 - - Costaker, Major, killed, 47 - - Cox, 53, 165, 205 - - - D’Amade, General, 26, 27, 50, 61, 80; - goes home, 95 - - Dardanelles, climate of, 17 - - Davidson, Lieutenant, 47 - - Davy, 55, 136 - - de Lisle, General, 191; - nearly hit, 264, 298 - - Dent, 125 - - Destroyers, Turkish, sunk, 96 - - De Tott’s Battery, 139 - - _Dongola_, S.S., 28, 35 - - Doran, General, 114, 117, 119; - returns to England, 129 - - Drabis, 288 - - Dublin Fusiliers, 29, 45, 97, 257 - - Duff, 79, 192 - - Dugout, on fire, 269 - - - Edey, 173 - - Eighth Corps Gully, new camp at, 266 - - Eighty-eighth Brigade, 27, 74, 77, 206 - - Eighty-seventh Brigade, 67, 206 - - Eighty-sixth Brigade, 29, 77 - - Ekin, Colonel, 243 - - Elphinstone, Louis, 261 - - Enver Pasha, 253 - - Essex Regiment, 28, 30 - - Evans, Sergeant, 73, 75 - - - Farmer, Captain, 149; - invalided, 177 - - Festin, Captain, 75 - - Findlay, 176 - - Flies, 102 - - Foley, Lieutenant, 38, 39, 43, 67, 136 - - Ford, Quartermaster, 55 - - Fraser, Major, 250 - - French battleship attacked, 106 - - Frew, R.A.M.C., 258 - - Fulford, 176 - - Fuller, Colonel, 243, 274 - - Furniture, 262 - - - Gaba Tepe, Australians attacked at, 96, 202 - - Gale, heavy, 150, 249 - - Geddes, 191 - - Gee, Captain, 280 - - Geoffrey-Faussett, Colonel, killed, 68 - - Gibbon, Major, 43, 60, 192 - - Gibraltar Hill, 259 - - _Glory_, H.M.S., 242, 247 - - Gloucester Yeomanry, 203 - - _Goeben_, 123 - - Golden Horn, the, frozen, 20 - - _Goliath_, H.M.S., 81; - torpedoed, 84 - - Gostling, 47 - - Grant, 286 - - Gregory, 83, 95 - - Grogan, 55 - - Gully Beach, 98 - - Gun Hill, visited, 250 - - Gurkha Beach, 98 - - Gurkha Bluff, 95 - - Gurkhas, 69, 82, 83, 89, 95, 169, 204 - - Gwendy, killed, 173 - - - Hadow, Captain, 213, 226; - Major, 237 - - Hamilton, Sir Ian, exhortation of, 29; - reported leaving, 248 - - Hampshire Regiment, 26, 45, 193 - - Harding, Quartermaster, 143 - - Haricot Redoubt, 139; - taken by French, 142 - - Helles, evacuation commenced, 314; - evacuated, 321 - - Horse of Troy, 33 - - Horton, Major, 136 - - Howard de Walden, Lord, 220, 242, 254, 255, 258, 293 - - Howell, wounded, 208 - - Hunt, joins, 259 - - Hunter-Weston, General, 30, 82 - - Huskisson, Major, 102, 136; - Colonel, 302 - - Hyslop, Captain, 78, 80, 94, 138 - - - Imbros, 71; - beauty of, 104; - bombarded, 108; - go to, 217; - rides in, 219 - - _Implacable_, H.M.S., 35, 87, 119 - - - Japanese bombs, 100 - - Jeans, Fleet Surgeon, 214, 239 - - Jennings, 96, 102 - - Jones, Sergeant, 224, 283; - killed, 303 - - - Karakol Dagh, 253 - - King’s Own Scottish Borderers, 26, 51, 84, 197, 324 - - Kitchener, Lord, arrives, 265 - - Koe, Colonel, 51 - - Koebel, Captain, 169; - dies of wounds, 321 - - Krithia, 56; - bombarded, 73, 77, 89, 123, 151 - - Krithia Nullah, 90 - - Kum Kale, 81; - shelled from, 125 - - - Lachard, joins, 232 - - Laird, 50, 102 - - Lala Baba, 202; - badly shelled, 268 - - Lancashire Fusiliers, 33, 36, 75, 78; - raid on, 90, 95, 126, 199 - - Lancashire Landing, 95 - - Lancashire Territorials, 77 - - “Lancaster Terrace,” 100 - - Lang, Major, 92 - - Lee, Major, 52; - killed, 67 - - Leith Walk, 312 - - Lemnos, arrival at, 26, 100; - invalided to, 159 - - Leslie, Quartermaster, 65 - - Lewington, Private, 218 - - Loce, Commander, 245 - - Lone Tree Gully, 212 - - _Lord Nelson_, H.M.S., 142 - - Lowland Division arrives, 150 - - Lucas, Major, 112 - - - McDougall, Arthur, Lieutenant, 234, 245 - - McLoughlin, 287 - - _Majestic_, H.M.S., torpedoed, 105 - - Malta, 24 - - Manchester Regiment, 78 - - _Manitou_, S.S., attacked, 27 - - Marshall, Brigadier-General, 112 - - _Massena_, 301 - - Matthews, Captain, joins, 261; - leaves, 264 - - Mathias, Captain, 115 - - Meltem, 18 - - Middlesex Yeomanry, 118, 206 - - Milbanke, Sir John, killed, 209 - - Miller, 154 - - Milne, Captain, 78 - - Milward, Lieutenant, R.N., 31, 33, 34, 111, 132 - - Monro, 192 - - Moon, horse killed, 156 - - Moore, V.C., 194 - - Morris, Machine Gun Officer, 243, 250, 252; - ill, 263 - - Morto Bay, 81; - bathing at, 106 - - Mowatt, 74, 99 - - Mudros, 100 - - Mules, Indian, 76 - - Munro, General, 248; - arrives, 251 - - Munster Fusiliers, 29, 45, 71, 97, 199, 257 - - - Napier, General, killed, 47 - - Neave, invalided, 177 - - _Neuralia_, hospital ship, 163 - - Neville, 168 - - Newfoundland Regiment joins, 231 - - New Zealanders, 74, 77, 156, 233 - - Nightingale, 191 - - North, 127 - - Notts and Derby Yeomanry, 206 - - - O’Hara, Major, 39, 40, 41, 42, 51, 57, 59, 122, 177; - leaves, 255; - Colonel, 298 - - Owen, 49 - - - Panaghia, 219 - - Panton, Captain, 27, 53, 176, 255 - - Parish, General, 80 - - Parker, Captain, 52 - - _Partridge_, S.S., 301 - - Patterson, Colonel, 45, 58 - - Pearson, Colonel, 277 - - _Peninsula Press_, 96 - - Percival, General, 225, 263, 293 - - Petro, 212 - - Phillips, Captain, 51, 54, 56, 96, 118; - tent shared with, 129, 136, 212; - wounded, 230 - - “Pimple,” the, 228; - shelled by Monitors, 263 - - Pink Farm, 54, 55, 56, 75, 89; - Brigade H.Q. near, 91, 122; - razed by shell fire, 153 - - Poole, 136 - - Prince Adil, yachting with, 168 - - _Prince George_, H.M.S., 81, 135, 228; - hit, 240, 242, 261, 322 - - Prosser, 122 - - Punjabis, 78, 79 - - - _Queen Elizabeth_, H.M.S., 28, 77, 99 - - - Rabbit Island, 192 - - _Raglan_, H.M.S., 186 - - Reave, 93 - - Reid, Captain, 27, 65; - killed, 67 - - Reid, Signal Officer, 243 - - Revel, killed, 140 - - Ritchie, 102 - - _River Clyde_, S.S., 29, 32, 33, 38, 47, 51, 93, 199, 301 - - Roberts, 92 - - Rochdale, Lord, 80 - - Royal Scots, 30, 34, 71, 110, 138; - badly cut up, 149 - - - _Saint-Louis_, 119, 189 - - Salt Lake, 208 - - Samothrace, 220 - - Sari Bair, 202 - - Scorpions, 87 - - “Sea View,” 100 - - Sed-el-Bahr, 87; - French in, 97; - described, 98 - - _Seeang-Bee_, S.S., 168, 171 - - Senegalese, 82; - photographed, 97; - bathing, 114 - - Sharpshooters, 206 - - Sherwood Foresters, 206 - - Shorto, Major, 136, 183 - - Shuter, Captain, 167 - - _Sicilia_, hospital ship, 159 - - Sinclair-Thomson, Captain, 47 - - Smart, 116, 311 - - Smith, Quartermaster, 65, 251 - - Snakes, 87 - - South Lancashire Division, 102 - - South Wales Borderers, 87 - - _Southland_, S.S., 84, 298 - - Steel, Lieutenant, 34, 110; - death of, 149 - - Stoney, Captain, 47 - - Streidinger, Major, 44, 55 - - Submarine, visit to a French, 122 - - _Sudan_, hospital ship, 169 - - Suez, arrival at, 324 - - Suvla Bay, landing at, 188; - bad news from, 196; - embark for, 201, 202; - water difficulties at, 214; - view from, 216; - nature of country, 222; - arrangements for evacuation, 293; - evacuated, 296 - - _Swiftsure_, H.M.S., 77; - attacked, 101; - visit to, 214, 233; - narrow escape of, 236, 239, 261 - - - _Talbot_, H.M.S., 146 - - Tenth Division, at Salonika, 248 - - Thirteenth Division, 162, 176 - - Thomson, 55, 65, 78, 91, 191 - - Torpedo caught, 133 - - Trafalgar Square, 182 - - Trenches, visit to first-line, 143 - - Tressider, Captain, killed, 149 - - _Triumph_, H.M.S., torpedoed, 101 - - Turkish wounded, 88 - - Turks, said to be starving, 116 - - Twelve Tree Wood, 149 - - Twenty-ninth Division, 102, 140; - push forward, 151, 156, 169 - - - Unwin, Commander, 293 - - Usher, Captain, 119, 126; - killed, 136 - - - “V” Beach, 32, 81; - Senegalese at, 82 - - Von Sanders, 96 - - - “W” Beach, 32; - landing at, 35, 51, 62; - bathing at, 79, 81; - shelled, 94; - rejoin at, 173; - return to, 302 - - Walker, arrives, 242; - goes to hospital, 260 - - Warham, killed, 174 - - Warwick Yeomanry, 203, 206 - - Way, Captain, 43, 96, 136, 205; - effect on him of bullets, 241; - invalided, 260 - - Weatherall, 136, 160 - - Wedgwood, Josiah, M.P., 50 - - West Lowland Engineers C.O., killed, 141 - - “Whistling Rufus,” 238, 247, 252, 253 - - Whitburn, 38 - - _Whitby Abbey_, S.S., 159, 171, 221 - - White House, 77, 78 - - Williams, 117, 160 - - Williams, Colonel, 45, 55, 69, 78, 91; - wounded, 124 - - Wilson, Colonel, 138, 149 - - Wood, Captain, 112, 188, 201; - Major, 235; - killed, 254, 257 - - Worcester Regiment, 28, 123, 233 - - Worcester Yeomanry, 203, 206 - - - “X” Beach, 87th Brigade depot at, 67, 81; - road to, 127 - - - Yen-i-Shehr, 81 - - Yeomanry in action, 206 - - - Zion Mule Corps, 45 - - - _Printed in Great Britain by_ - - UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON - - - ————————————— End of Book ————————————— - - - - - Transcriber’s Note (continued) - - -Errors in punctuation have been corrected. Inconsistencies in spelling, -grammar, capitalisation, and hyphenation are as they appear in the -original publication except where noted below: - - Page 9 – “echanical” changed to “mechanical” (mechanical transport) - - Page 23 – “bauled” changed to “bawled” (bawled by enthusiastic soldiers) - - Page 31 – “in-shore” changed to “inshore” (hundred yards inshore) - - Page 47 – “halfway” changed to “half-way” (holes half-way up her side) - - Page 78 – “Colonel Williams Thomson and” changed to “Colonel Williams, - Thomson and” (I find Colonel Williams, Thomson and our new - Brigade Major.) - - Page 97 – “two” changed to “too” (too small or too insignificant for - them) - - Page 126 – “landed out” changed to “lashed out” (Way’s horse lashed out) - - Page 140 – “moral” changed to “morale” (the morale of the enemy) - - Page 154 – “goodnight” changed to “good-night” (who says good-night) - - Page 176 – “honey-combed” changed to “honeycombed” (cliffs honeycombed - with) - - Page 215 – “break-down” changed to “breakdown” (a nervous breakdown) - - Page 223 – “cook-houses” changed to “cookhouses” (regimental - cookhouses) - - Index – Removed “Williams-Thomson, Colonel, 78” entry and added its - page number to “Williams, Colonel” entry immediately above. - -The author often refers to a fellow officer named Horne. This is -sometimes incorrectly rendered as Horn in the original publication. All -such occurrences have been regularised to Horne in this transcription. - -References to the village of “Sedul-Bahr” or “Sed-el-Bahr” appear -multiple times in the original publication with the latter form being -much more common. The six occurrences of “Sedul-Bahr” have been -regularised to “Sed-el-Bahr”. - -There is a reference to a hill above Suvla Bay that is called ‘Kara -Kol Dogh’ on page 253 but ‘Kara-Kol-Dagh’ in the Index. Both references -have been changed to ‘Karakol Dagh’ by which it is more commonly known. - -The Index of the original publication contains many errors, most of -which are left unchanged in this transcription. They include entries -where some instances of terms are not listed and entries that reference -terms that do not appear on the cited page. However missing punctuation -and inconsistent formatting have been corrected and a small number of -entries have been revised where that was required as a consequence of -other changes noted above. - -On page 77 of the original publication the author uses a small inline -image to describe the shape of the front line at that time. That shape -is approximated in this transcription by a lower half-cirle character -[◡] and appears in the sentence “The line forms the shape of a ◡, the -extremes resting on ground on either side of the Peninsula.” - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALLIPOLI DIARY *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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 Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/67661-0.zip b/old/67661-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 918e776..0000000 --- a/old/67661-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h.zip b/old/67661-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index af70b38..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/67661-h.htm b/old/67661-h/67661-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 43e50eb..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/67661-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15830 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta charset="UTF-8" /> - <title> - Gallipoli Diary, by Major John Graham Gillam—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> - <style> /* <![CDATA[ */ - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered, except h3 - see below */ - clear: both; -} - -h3 { - text-align: left; - margin-bottom: .49em; - font-size: 100%; -} - -p { - text-indent: 1em; - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} -.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} -.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} - -.b2 {margin-bottom: 2em;} -.b4 {margin-bottom: 4em;} - -div.mt2 { margin-top: 2em; } -div.mb2 { margin-bottom: 2em; } -div.mt6 { margin-top: 6em; } -div.mb6 { margin-bottom: 6em; } - -.hanging2 { - padding-left: 2em; - text-indent: -2em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } - -hr.r10 {width: 10%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 45.0%; margin-right: 45.0%;} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -ul.index { list-style-type: none; } -li.ifrst { - margin-top: 1em; - text-indent: -2em; - padding-left: 1em; -} -li.indx { - margin-top: .5em; - text-indent: -2em; - padding-left: 1em; -} -li.isub1 { - text-indent: -2em; - padding-left: 2em; -} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -.tdl {text-align: left;} -.tdr {text-align: right;} - -table.toc {width: 50%;} -.x-ebookmaker table.toc { - width: 90%; - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 5%; -} - -td.toc-page-number { - text-align: right; - vertical-align: bottom; - padding-left: 0.8em; -} - -p.hangtoc { - line-height: 100%; - padding-left: 2.3em; - text-indent: -2.3em; - text-align: justify; - margin-top: 0em; - margin-bottom: 0em; -} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; -} /* page numbers */ - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ - -img { - max-width: 100%; - height: auto; -} -img.w100 {width: 100%;} - -.illowe10 { width: 10em; } -.illowe15 { width: 15em; } -.illowe35 { width: 35em; } - - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - -/* Poetry */ -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} -.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} -/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry in browsers */ -/* .poetry {display: inline-block;} */ -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} -/* large inline blocks don't split well on paged devices */ -@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } -.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote { - background-color: #E6E6FA; - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - color: black; - padding: 0.5em; - margin-bottom: 5em; - font-family: sans-serif, serif; -} - -.transnote-end { - background-color: #E6E6FA; - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 5%; - color: black; - padding: 0.5em; - margin-bottom: 5em; - font-family: sans-serif, serif; -} - -@media print { .transnote { - margin-left: 2.5%; - margin-right: 2.5%; - } -} - -.click-any-illo-transnote { - background-color: #E6E6FA; - margin-left: 25%; - margin-right: 25%; - margin-top: 1.0em; - margin-bottom: 3.5em; - padding-bottom: 0.1em; - padding-top: 1.0em; - color: black; - font-family: sans-serif, serif; -} - -.x-ebookmaker .transnote { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 5%; -} - -p.TN-style-1 { - text-indent: 0em; - margin-top: 1.5em; - font-size: small; -} - -p.TN-style-2 { - text-align: left; - margin-top: 1.0em; - text-indent: -1em; - margin-left: 3em; - font-size: small; -} - -.center-img-cover { - margin: 2% 33%; - page-break-inside: avoid; - page-break-before: auto; -} - -.coverimg {visibility: visible; display: block;} - -.x-small {font-size: x-small;} -.small {font-size: small;} - -.bold {font-weight: bold;} - -.noindent {text-indent: 0em;} - -a {text-decoration: none;} -a.underline {text-decoration: underline;} - -.figinline img { max-width: 1.5em; height: auto; } - - - /* ]]> */ </style> -</head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Gallipoli Diary, by John Graham Gillam</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Gallipoli Diary</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: John Graham Gillam</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 20, 2022 [eBook #67661]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Tim Lindell, Quentin Campbell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALLIPOLI DIARY ***</div> - - -<div class="coverimg center-img-cover x-ebookmaker-drop"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/cover.jpg"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> -</div> - -<div class="transnote chapter p4"> -<a id="top"></a> -<p class="noindent center TN-style-1 bold">Transcriber’s Note</p> - -<p class="center TN-style-1">The cover image was created by Susan -Ehrlich from elements of the original publication and is placed in the -public domain.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> - -<p class="center TN-style-1">See <a class="underline" href="#TN">end -of this document</a> for details of corrections and other changes.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter p4 b4"> -<p class="noindent center bold" style="font-size: 200%;">GALLIPOLI DIARY</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter p4"></div> -<h1 class="nobreak" id="TITLE"><span style="font-size: 150%">GALLIPOLI DIARY</span></h1> - -<p class="noindent center small bold p6">BY</p> - -<p class="noindent center bold"><span style="font-size: 200%;">MAJOR JOHN GRAHAM GILLAM</span><br /> -D.S.O. -</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowe10 mt6 mb6" style="max-width: 10em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/colophon.jpg" alt="colophon" /> -</div> - -<p class="noindent center bold b4"> -<span style="font-size: 150%;">LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD.</span><br /> -<span style="font-size: 140%;">RUSKIN HOUSE  40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C. 1</span> -</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p class="noindent center bold p4"><i>First published in 1918</i></p> - -<p class="noindent center bold p6 b4">(<i>All rights reserved</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="PREFACE">PREFACE</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">In</span> the kind and courteous letter which you will read on -<a href="#INTRODUCTION">p. 15</a> General Sir Aylmer Hunter-Weston says that it is -not possible for him to write a Preface to this book. That -is my own and the reader’s great loss, for General Hunter-Weston, -as is well known, commanded the 29th Division -at the landing on the Gallipoli Peninsula on April 25, 1915, -and during those early months of desperate fighting, until -to the universal regret of all who served under him he -became one of the victims of the sickness that began to -ravage our ranks; and as one of the chief players of the -great game that was there enacted, his comments would -have been of supreme interest and would have added -immeasurably to such small value as there may be in this -Diary of one of the pawns in that same game. But since -the player cannot, the pawn may perhaps be allowed to -say a few words by way of comment on and explanation -of the following pages.</p> - -<p>Towards the completion of the mobilization of the 29th -Division in the Leamington area in early 1915, I heard -secretly that the Division was bound for the Dardanelles -at an early date, instead of for France as we had at first -expected. By this I knew that in all probability the -Division was destined to play a most romantic part in -the Great War. I had visions of trekking up the Gallipoli -Peninsula with the Navy bombarding a way for us up -the Straits and along the coast-line of the Sea of Marmora,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span> -until after a brief campaign we entered triumphantly -Constantinople, there to meet the Russian Army, which -would link up with ourselves to form part of a great chain -encircling and throttling the Central Empires. I sailed -from England on March 20, 1915, firmly convinced that -my vision would actually come true and that some time -in 1915 the paper-boys would be singing out in the streets -of London: “Fall of Constantinople—British link hands -with the Russians”; and I am sure that all who knew -the secret of our destination were as firmly convinced -as I was that we should meet with complete success. We -little appreciated the difficulties of our task.</p> - -<p>For these reasons, and perhaps because the very names—Gallipoli, -Dardanelles, Constantinople—sounded so -romantic and full of adventure, I determined to revive -an old, if egotistic, hobby of mine—the keeping of a diary. -Throughout the Gallipoli campaign, therefore, almost -religiously every day and with very few exceptions I recorded, -as I have done in the past, the daily happenings -of my life and the impressions such happenings made on -me, and the thoughts that they created. The diary was -written by me to myself, as most diaries are, to be read -possibly by myself and my nearest relations after the -war, but with no thought of publication.</p> - -<p>But when the Division was in Egypt, after the evacuation, -and just prior to its embarking for France, a Supply -Officer joined us whom I had met and talked to on the -Peninsula, as one meets hundreds of men, without knowing, -or caring to know, anything more about them than that -they are trying to do their job as one tries to do one’s own. -His name is Launcelot Cayley Shadwell, and we became -firm friends. We talked often of Gallipoli, and one day, -in France, I showed him my diary. He read it, and then -told me that I should try to get it published. I laughed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> -at the idea, but he assured me that these first-hand impressions -might interest a wider circle than that for which -they were primarily intended, but that beforehand the -diary should be pruned and edited, for of course there -was much in it which was too personal to be of interest -to anybody but myself. I asked him if he would edit -it for me. He consented, and very kindly undertook -the necessary blue pencilling, and in addition to his labour -of excision was good enough to insert a few passages -describing, so far as words can, the exquisite loveliness -of the Peninsula. For these, which far surpass the powers -of my own pen, I am deeply indebted to him. They -will be found under dates:—<i>May 2nd, Moonlight at Helles; -May 13th, The sensations one experiences when a shell is -addressed to you; May 26th, Moonlight scenes; May -30th, Colouring of Imbros; July 15th, Alexandria; September -16th and 17th, The bathing cove</i>.</p> - -<p>I am also indebted to the kindness of Captain Jocelyn -Bray, the A.P.M. of the 29th Division on the Peninsula, -for many excellent photographs.</p> - -<p>The diary next had to be submitted to the Censor, -who naturally refused to pass it until the Dardanelles -Commission had finished its sittings, and it was nearly -a year before it came back into my hands, passed for publication, -but with a few further blue pencillings, this time -not personal, but official. And in this form—hastily -scribbled by me from day to day, with a stumpy indelible -pencil on odd sheets of paper, pruned, edited and improved -by Shadwell, and extra-edited, if not notably -improved, by the Censor—my diary is now presented -for the consideration of an all-indulgent public.</p> - -<p>Enough has been said to show, if internal evidence did -not shout it aloud, that my diary has no literary pretensions -whatsoever. I am no John Masefield, and do not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> -seek to compete with my betters. Those who desire -to survey the whole amazing Gallipoli campaign in perspective -must look elsewhere than in these pages. Their -sole object was to record the personal impressions, feeling, -and doings from day to day of one supply officer to a -Division whose gallantry in that campaign well earned -for it the epithet “Immortal.” If in spite of its many -deficiencies my diary should succeed in interesting the -reader, and if, in particular, I have been able to place -in the proper light the services of that indispensable but -underrated arm, the A.S.C., I am more than content.</p> - -<p>I have now seen the A.S.C. at work in England, Egypt, -France and Flanders, as well as in Gallipoli, and the result -is always just the same. Tommy is hungry three times -a day without distinction of place, and without distinction -of place three times a day, as regularly as the sun rises -and sets, food is forthcoming for him, food in abundance -with no queues or meat cards. The A.S.C. must never -fail, and it never does fail, for its organization is one of -the most brilliant the Army knows. But few, other -than those in the A.S.C. itself or on the staffs of armies, -can appreciate its vastness and its infallibility. To do -so one should watch the supply ships dodging the enemy -submarines and arriving at the bases, the supply hangars -at the base supply depots receiving and disgorging the -supplies to the pack trains, the arrival of the trains at -the regulating stations on the lines of communication, -whence they are dispatched to the railheads just behind -the line, the staff of the deputy directors of supplies -and transport of armies at work, following carefully -the movements of formations and the rise and fall of -strengths, to ensure that not only shall sufficient food -arrive regularly each day at the railheads, but that there -shall be no surpluses to choke the railheads. It is hardly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> -less important that there should not be too much than -that there should not be too little.</p> - -<p>The slightest miscalculation may easily lead to chaos—to -the blocking of trains carrying wounded back and -ammunition forward, or the deprivation of a few thousand -men of their food at a critical moment. One should -watch the arrival of the supply pack trains at the railheads -where the supply columns of motor lorries or the -divisional trains of horse transport unload the pack -trains and load their vehicles, regularly each day at scheduled -times, under all conditions, even those caused by -a 14-inch enemy shell bursting at intervals of five minutes -in the railhead yard, causing all and sundry to get to -cover, except the A.S.C., who must never fail to clear the -train at the scheduled time. One should watch the -divisional train H.Q. at work, following its division and -arranging for the daily correct distribution and the delivery -of the rations to units. Often horse transport, by careful -managing on the part of train H.Q., is released for other -duties than those of drawing and delivering supplies to -units. Then one may watch the A.S.C. driver delivering -R.E. material, etc., to the line, along roads swept by -high-explosive shell and shrapnel and machine guns, where -all but the A.S.C. driver can get to ground, while he must -stand by his horses and get cover for them and himself -as best he can. Then, although one has only seen the -skeleton framework of this vast service, and has had no -opportunity to go into the technicalities of the system -or to investigate the many safety valves of base supply -depots, field supply depots, reserve parks and emergency -ration dumps in the line, all of which are ready to come -to the rescue should a pack train be blown up or a convoy -scuppered, nor to study the wonderfully efficient organization -of transport, covering mechanical transport,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> -horse transport, Foden lorries and tractors which ply -from the base to the line, carrying, as well as supplies, -ammunition, R.E. material, and every imaginable necessity -of war, and moving heavy guns in and out of position, -at times under the very noses of the enemy, yet one cannot -fail to have gained a great respect for that vast and wonderfully -silent organization, the Army Service Corps.</p> - -<p class="right" style="margin-right: 2em;">J. G. G.</p> - -<p class="b2"><span class="smcap">France,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>May 1918</i>.</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table class="toc b4" style="font-size: 80%"> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"> </td> - <td class="tdr"><span style="font-size: 60%">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">PREFACE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">INTRODUCTION</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">THE CLIMATE AT THE DARDANELLES</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">PROLOGUE—MARCH 1915</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">APRIL</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">MAY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">JUNE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">JULY</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">AUGUST</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">SEPTEMBER</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">OCTOBER</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">NOVEMBER</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">DECEMBER</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">JANUARY 1916</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_310">310</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">EPILOGUE</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_325">325</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl">INDEX</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#INDEX">326</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="ILLUSTRATIONS">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table class="toc b2" style="font-size: 70%"> - <tr> - <td class="tdl"> </td> - <td class="tdr"><span style="font-size: 65%">FACING PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">THE GANGWAY OF THE <i>RIVER CLYDE</i>, OUT OF WHICH TROOPS -POURED AS SOON AS THE SHIP GROUNDED ON APRIL 25, -1915. CAPE HELLES</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_032">32</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">BATHING OFF GULLY BEACH, HELLES</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_064a">64</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">“Y” BEACH, CAPE HELLES, WHERE THE K.O.S.B.’S LANDED -ON APRIL 25, 1915, HAVING TO EVACUATE THEREFROM -ON THE FOLLOWING DAY</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_064a">64</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">29TH DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS, GULLY BEACH, AT THE -FOOT OF THE GULLY, HELLES</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_092a">92</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">VIEW OF “V” BEACH, CAPE HELLES, TAKEN FROM THE -<i>RIVER CLYDE</i></p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_092a">92</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">COAST LINE, CAPE HELLES</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_176a">176</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">A VIEW OF THE GULLY, CAPE HELLES, LOOKING TOWARDS -THE ENEMY LINES</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_176a">176</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">A VIEW OF THE PROMONTORY, SUVLA BAY, TAKEN FROM 29TH -DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">A CAPTURED TURKISH TRENCH, SUVLA BAY</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_216a">216</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">A VIEW OF SUVLA BAY</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_216a">216</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">GENERAL DE LISLE’S HEADQUARTERS, SUVLA BAY</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_224">224</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">4·5 HOWITZER IN ACTION, SUVLA BAY</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_244a">244</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><p class="hangtoc">29TH DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS, SUVLA BAY, HIDDEN FROM -THE ENEMY BY THE SLOPE OF THE HILL</p></td> - <td class="toc-page-number"><a href="#i_244a">244</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="click-any-illo-transnote x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<p class="noindent center b2 small bold">Left-click any illustration to see a larger version.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION</h2> - -<p class="hanging2"><span class="smcap">Letter from LIEUT.-GENERAL SIR AYLMER -HUNTER-WESTON, K.C.B., C.B., D.S.O., M.P., -D.L., who commanded the Division at the landing, -April 25, 1915.</span></p> - - -<p class="noindent p2"><span class="smcap">Dear Gillam</span>,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Diary of a man who, like yourself, took part in -the historic landing at Gallipoli, and was present on the -Peninsula during the subsequent fighting, will, I know, -be of interest to many besides myself. There are but -few of us who, in those strenuous days, were able to -keep diaries, and even fewer were those who had -the gift of making of their daily entries a narrative -that would be of interest to others.</p> - -<p>I should like to have time to write a Preface for this -book of yours, giving the salient points of our great -adventure and the effect it had both on us and on -the enemy. I should also have liked to have shown -the influence that you and the Army Service Corps -generally had on our operations by the successful -manner in which you were able to keep the troops -fed and supplied under circumstances of apparently -insuperable difficulty.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span></p> - -<p>But being, as I am, in command of a big Army Corps -on one of the most difficult parts of the Front, it is -impossible for me to find any time for writing such -a Preface.</p> - -<p>I can but wish your book the greatest success, and -hope that it will be widely read.</p> - -<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 5.5em;">Yours sincerely,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-right: 2em;">AYLMER HUNTER-WESTON.</span></p> - -<p class="b2"><span class="smcap">Headquarters, VIII Corps, B.E.F.</span>,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><i>February 18, 1918</i>.</span> -</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="THE_CLIMATE_AT_THE_DARDANELLES">THE CLIMATE AT THE DARDANELLES</h2> - -<p class="noindent center bold" style="line-height: 50%;">By HENRY E. PEARS</p> - -<p class="hanging2 p2">[After the evacuation of the Peninsula, the following -article, which appeared in the <i>Westminster Gazette</i> -early in September 1915, was shown to me. After -reading it through, I compared the weather forecasts -that the author sets forth, and was interested to find -that they agreed very closely with the notes on the -weather that I had made in my Diary. The article -is therefore republished here, as it may be of interest -to the reader.—J. G. G.]</p> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">The</span> dispatch of August 31st of Reuter’s Special Correspondent -with the Mediterranean Forces, of which a -summary was published in the <i>Westminster Gazette</i> of the -18th inst., speaks of the weather at the Dardanelles and -as to there being two months of fine autumn weather in -which to pile up stores, etc. It would be more correct -to say three months rather than two.</p> - -<p>It may be interesting to some of your readers to have -a few remarks on the weather in the Marmora. Such -remarks are based on the results of observations made -by a close observer of nature during a period of over thirty -years. The fact that particular interest was taken in -weather conditions at such a place arose from a cause -other than a meteorological interest in the weather, the -object being an endeavour to throw light on the migration -of birds. Bird naturalists in general, and especially -Frenchmen, have fully recognized that the two stretches -of land, namely the shores of the Bosphorus and that -of the Dardanelles, being the closest points of junction -between Europe and Asia, as also the European coast -between these points, are the concentrated passage way<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> -or route for the huge migratory flocks of birds proceeding -from the western half of Europe into Asia. Three results -stand out in respect to this migration. First, the absolute -regularity of the autumn migration or passage; secondly, -certain conditions of weather at almost fixed dates; -thirdly, the result of the weather conditions as affecting -the density of the flights, the resting and stopping of -various birds at certain places. The subject is a very -wide one, and is somewhat foreign to the real purpose of -my remarks.</p> - -<p>Taking the month of September to begin with, the -weather is very fine, a continuation of summer; cloudless -skies day after day, with perhaps a rain and thunder storm -or two, only—one generally in the first week, and another -about September 17th, but always brought on by a north -to north-west wind. As a rule the constant summer land -breezes (north-east about) are of less intensity in September -than in August, which allows for a keeping up of an average -day temperature, as the Marmora, Bosphorus, and Dardanelles -owe their moderate day temperature to these daily -breezes (called “Meltem”) from the north to north-east -during the summer. The wind generally dies away at sunset, -which fact, however, rather tends to make the night -temperature higher during the summer; the result being -that, as between day and night temperature, when the -north wind blows during the day, there is but little drop -in the temperature and the nights are hot.</p> - -<p>About September 21st to 24th there is, however, a -marked period in the weather. It is either a calm as -regards winds, and consequently very hot, or such period -is marked by southerly winds, but not of any great intensity -or strength—very dry, hot winds. These are the -first southerly winds of autumn, but as a general rule -such period is in nautical terms “calm and fine, with -southerly airs.”</p> - -<p>From such time up to the end of September the north or -north-easterly winds set in again, but later on, generally -about the first week of October, the winds get more to -the north and north-west, and there is a heavy thunderstorm -or so, and as a result a drop in temperature.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span></p> - -<p>From October 10th to 14th there is a period of uncertainty; -sometimes a south-westerly wind, which veers -round to the north-west, and a good rain-storm. The -first distinct drop in temperature now takes place (about -the 10th to the 14th), one feels autumn in the air, the -nights continue fairly warm; and this period continues -fine and generally calm up to about the 20th—sometimes -the 18th or 19th—when a well defined and almost absolutely -regular period is entered upon.</p> - -<p>This spell begins with three or four days of very heavy -northerly or north-westerly wind, sometimes a gale, -generally accompanied by rain for several days, and it -is this period—from October 20th to 25th—which is intensely -interesting to naturalists owing to the big passage -of all kinds of birds, the arrival of the first woodcock, the -clockwork precision of the passage of the stock-doves -(pigeons); in fact, it is the moment of the big migration, -when the air night and day is full of birds on the move. -Towards the end of October, and in the way of a counter-coup -or reaction to the northerly gales, there is generally -experienced a fierce three or four days of southerly winds, -sometimes gales.</p> - -<p>It is to be noted that these gales or changes in the -weather are usually of three or seven days’ duration, the -first day generally being the strongest, and for some of -these regular winds the natives have special names.</p> - -<p>November almost always comes in fine, with a lovely -first ten days or so. It, however, becomes rather sharp -at night, and a very marked period now of cold weather -is to be expected—a cold snap, in fact.</p> - -<p>This snap is generally in the second or third week of -the month, and only lasts a few days, the weather going -back to fine, warm, and calm till the end of the month. -Barring such cold snap the month is marked by fine -weather and absence of wind, and many people consider -it the most glorious month of the year, the sunsets being -especially fine. The cold snap is rather a peculiar one. -Snow has been seen on November 4th, and, if I remember -rightly, the battle of Lule Bourgas three years ago was -fought on November 5th, 6th, and 7th, and during such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -time there raged a storm of rain and sleet, succeeded by -two or three nights of hard frost, which caused the death -of many a poor fellow who had been wounded and was -lying out.</p> - -<p>Another year there was a very heavy snow-storm on -November 16th and 17th. Although the weather may be -of this nature for several days, it recovers and drops back -into calm, warm weather.</p> - -<p>In the last days of November or the first days of December -another period is entered upon. There is generally a -heavy south wind lasting from three to seven days, which -is succeeded by a lovely spell of fine weather, generally -perfectly calm and warm, which brings one well through -December. From a little before Christmas or just after, -the weather varies greatly. The marked periods are -passed—the weather may be anything, sometimes calm -and mild, sometimes varied by rains, with strong north -winds, but no seriously bad weather; in one word, no -real winter weather need be looked for until, as the natives -put it, the old New Year—otherwise the New Year, old -style, which is January 14th, our style—comes in.</p> - -<p>After January 14th, or a few days later, the weather -is almost invariably bad; there is always a snow blizzard -or two, generally between January 20th and 25th. These -are real bad blizzards, which sometimes last from three -to seven days; and anything in the way of weather may -happen for the next six weeks or two months. The snow -has been known to lie for six weeks. Strong southerly -gales succeed, as a rule, the northerly gales, but one thing -is to be noted: that the south and west winds no longer -bring rain; it is the north and north-east which bring -snow and rain.</p> - -<p class="b2">This winter period is difficult to speak of with anything -like precision; nothing appears to be regular. Some -years the weather is severe, other years snow is only -seen once or twice. Winter is said to have finished on -April 15th. The only point about a severe winter is that -a period of cold is generally followed by a period of calm -warm weather of ten days or so. It has often been noted -that a very cold winter in England and France, etc.,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -generally gives the south-east corner of Europe about which -we are speaking a mild winter with a prevalence of southerly -airs, whereas a mild winter in England and France marks -the south-east corner of Europe for a severe winter, with -a prevalence of northerly winds. No doubt experts will -be able to explain this. Of late years no great cold has -visited the Marmora. In 1893 the Golden Horn from -the Inner Bridge at Constantinople was frozen over -sufficiently for people to walk over the ice, and the inner -harbour had floes knocking about for some weeks. That -winter, however, was an exceptional one, but even then -the winter only began about January 18th, lasting into -March. The great point about the climate is that, however -hot or cold a spell may be, it is always succeeded by -calm weather, a blue sky, and a warm sun, quite a different -state of things from winter weather under English conditions. -To those who have relations or friends at the -Dardanelles (and I quote from a letter from a friend), let -them send good strong warm stockings for the men, besides -the usual waistcoats and mufflers; and as for creature -comforts, sweets, chocolate, and tobacco, especially -cigarettes. It is the Turks who will suffer from the cold; -they cannot stand it long, and being fed generally mainly -on bread, they have no stamina to meet cold weather. -Most of their troops come from warm climes.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="PROLOGUEMARCH_1915">PROLOGUE—MARCH 1915</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">On</span> March 20th, 1915, I embarked on the S.S. <i>Arcadian</i> -for the seat of war. My destination, I learned, was to be -the Dardanelles, and the campaign, I surmised, was likely -to be more romantic than any other military undertaking -of modern times. Our ship carried, besides various small -units, part of the General Staff of the Expedition. The -voyage was not to be as monotonous as I first thought, -for I found many old friends on board. After the usual -orderly panic consequent on the loading of a troopship -we glided from the quay, our only send-off being supplied -by a musical Tommy on shore, who performed with great -delicacy and feeling “The Girl I left Behind Me” on a -tin whistle. The night was calm and beautiful, and the -new crescent moon swung above in the velvet sky—a -symbol, as I thought, of the land we were bound for. As -we passed the last point a voice sang out, “Are we downhearted?” -and the usual “No!” bawled by enthusiastic -soldiers on board, vibrated through the ship, and so with -our escort of six destroyers we left the coast of Old England -behind us. Nothing of interest happened during the -passage across the Bay. On arrival at Gibraltar searchlights -at once picked us up, and a small boat from a gunboat -near by came alongside—we dropped two bags of mails -into her and in return received our orders. As we sailed -through the Mediterranean, hugging the African coast, -the view of the purple mountains cut sharp against the -emerald sky was very beautiful.</p> - -<p>Our next stop was Malta, which struck me as very -picturesque. The island showed up buff colour against -the blue sky, and the creamy colour of the flat-roofed -houses made a curious colour scheme. As we went slowly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> -up the fair way of Valetta Harbour, we passed several -French warships, on one of which the band played “God -Save the King,” followed by “Tipperary,” our men -cheering by way of answering the compliment. The -grand harbour was very interesting, swarming with shipping -of all kinds, the small native boats darting over the blue -water interesting me greatly. The buff background of -the hills, dotted with the creamy-coloured buildings and -a few forts, the pale-blue sky and deeper tint of the water, -the wheeling gulls, all went to make up a charming -picture. We went ashore for a short time and found the -town full of interest. We visited the Club, a fine old -building, once one of the <i>auberges</i> of the Knights of Malta, -where we were made guests for the day. Afterwards we -strolled round the town; the flat-roofed houses made the -view quite Eastern, and the curious mixture of fashionable -and native clothing at once struck me. The women wore -a head-dress not unlike that of a nun—black, and kept -away from the face by a stiffening of wire. We passed -many fine buildings, for Malta is full of them, and one -particularly we noticed, namely the Governor’s Palace, -with its charming gardens. As to the country itself, what -I saw of it was all arranged in stone terraces, no hedges, -except a few clumps of cactus being visible. In the -evening we returned to the ship, and before very long -set sail once more. I found that two foreign officers had -joined us; one was a Russian and the other French, but -both belonged to the French Army and both spoke English -perfectly.</p> - -<p class="b2">On April 1st, after an uneventful trip from Malta, we -arrived at Alexandria, our Base, and from this date the -Diary proper begins.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span></p> - -<p class="noindent center bold p2" style="font-size: 210%;" id="GALLIPOLI_DIARY">GALLIPOLI DIARY</p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="APRIL">APRIL</h2> - - -<h3><i>April 1st to 17th.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">We</span> arrived at Alexandria on April 1st. The harbour -is very fine, about three miles wide, and protected from -the open sea by a boom. The docks are very extensive, -and, just now, are of course seething with industry. All -the transports have arrived safely. The harbour itself -is full of shipping, and anchored in a long row I am -delighted to see a number of German liners which have -been either captured on the high seas or captured in port -at the beginning of hostilities and interned. All the Division -disembarks and goes to four camps on the outskirts of -the town. My destination was bare desert, and reminded -me irresistibly of the wilderness as mentioned in the Bible. -There was a salt-water lake near by, with a big salt-works -quite near it.</p> - -<p>In the centre of Alexandria is a fine square flanked by -splendid up-to-date hotels and picturesque boulevards; -but the native quarter is most depressing, consisting of -mud hovels sheltering grimy women and still grimier -children. The huts themselves are without windows and -only partially roofed. Flies abound upon the filthy interstices; -a noxious smell of cooking, tainted with the -scent of onions, greets the nose of the passer-by at all -hours. I find my work at the docks rather arduous, as, -after the troops have disembarked, we have to take stock -of what supplies remain on board, and then make up all -shortages. I sleep and have my meals on a different ship -almost every day—which is interesting. About the fifth -of the month the troops return to re-embark—I have to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -work very hard on the ships with gangs of Arabs. These -folk are just like children, and have to be treated as such—watched -and urged on every moment; if one leaves -them to themselves for an instant they start jabbering -like a lot of monkeys. I finally find myself on a fine Red -Star boat, the S.S. <i>Southland</i>.</p> - -<p>There are a lot of our Staff on board—also French Staff, -including General D’Amade, the French G.O.C., who did -such good work in France in the retreat. He is a distinguished-looking -old man with white hair, moustache, -and imperial. I hear that Way and myself are to be the -first Supply Officers ashore at the landing. Half the A.S.C. -have been left behind in Alexandria, and there are only -five of my people with me.</p> - - -<h3><i>Sunday, April 18th.</i></h3> - -<p>We are now steaming through crowds of little islands, -some as small as a cottage garden, others as large as Hyde -Park. Sea beautifully calm, and troops just had their -Church Parade. We have the King’s Own Scottish Borderers -on board, and it is very nice having their pipers -instead of the bugle.</p> - -<p>On account of drifting mines we are keeping off the -usual route.</p> - - -<h3><i>2 o’clock.</i></h3> - -<p>Arrive at our <i>rendez-vous</i>, Lemnos, a big island, with -a fine harbour. Seven battleships in, and all our transport -fleet as well as some of the French and Australian. We -remain in the outer harbour awhile opposite a battleship -that had been in the wars, one funnel being nearly blown -away. All battleships painted a curious mottled colour, -and look weird. One of our cargo-boats has been converted -into a dummy battleship to act as a decoy, very cleverly -done too. Later, we go into the inner harbour and moor -alongside another transport, the <i>Aragon</i>, on which is my -Brigade Staff and the Hampshires, who were at Stratford -with me. The Staff Captain hands over to me a box, -which I find is my long-lost torch and batteries from -Gamage.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p> - -<p>French Headquarter Staff and General D’Amade leave -and go on board <i>Arcadian</i>. The transport <i>Manitou</i>, one -of the boats on which I ate and slept, and which left Alexandria -two in front of our transport, was stopped by a -Turkish destroyer off Rhodes and three torpedoes were -discharged at her. The first two torpedoes missed and -the troops rushed to the boats. Owing to some muddle, -two boats fell into the sea and a ship’s officer and fifty -soldiers were drowned. The third torpedo struck, but -did not explode, as the percussion pin had not been pulled -out. Two cruisers arrived on the scene and chased the -destroyer off, which ran ashore, the crew being captured.</p> - -<p>After dinner go on board <i>Aragon</i> with Hampshire -officers and see Panton. Also talk to Brigade-Major and -Captain Reid, of Hampshires.</p> - - -<h3><i>Monday morning, April 19th.</i></h3> - -<p>Lovely morning. Fleet left. Troops, with full kit on, -marching round deck to the tune of piano. Most thrilling. -Piano plays “Who’s your Lady Friend?” soldiers -singing. What men! Splendid! What luck to be with -the 29th!</p> - - -<h3><i>April 22nd.</i></h3> - -<p>This is a fine harbour, very broad, and there are quite -a hundred ships here, including the Fleet and transports, -amongst which are some of our best liners. I had to go -to a horse-boat lying in the mouth of the harbour two -mornings ago and took two non-commissioned officers -and a crew of twelve men. We got there all right, a row of -two and a half miles, but the sea was so heavy that it was -impossible to row back. I had to return, and fortunately -managed to get taken back in a pinnace that happened -to call; but the rest had to remain on board till the next -day, and then took three hours to row back. This gives -us an idea of the difficult task our landing will be at Gallipoli. -For a time we were moored alongside the boat on which -was the Headquarters of the 88th Brigade, and it was -cheering to be able to walk to and fro between the two -ships and to see all my pals of the Hampshires.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span></p> - -<p>The Hampshires and the Worcesters spend the day -marching, with full kit on, round the deck to the cheery -strains of popular airs played by a talented Tommy. The -effect, with the regular tramp, is very exhilarating.</p> - -<p>Later, I am ordered to join another ship, the <i>Dongola</i>, -in which are the Essex and the Royal Scots, the other -regiments of my Brigade. Two Essex officers were staying -in the “Warwick Arms” with me, and it was good seeing -them again. The harbour at night is a fine sight. A -moon is shining and not a cloud in the sky, and the -temperature about 50°.</p> - -<p>The last few days, however, have been wet and drizzling, -just like a typical day in June in England when one has -been invited to a garden party.</p> - -<p>One can see the outline of the low irregular hills on -shore, and the ships are constantly signalling to one -another, silently sending orders, planning and arranging -for the great adventure.</p> - -<p>Have to go up to the signalling deck above the bridge -to take a message flashed from a tiny little “Tinker Bell” -light away on our starboard. The sight is wonderful. -Busy little dot-dash flashes all around the harbour. How -the signallers find out which is which beats me.</p> - -<p>The view of the hills in the background contrasts -strangely with the scenes of modern science and ingenuity -afloat.</p> - -<p>I saw the <i>Queen Elizabeth</i> at close quarters two days -ago, and I hope to go over her to-morrow. Also the <i>Askold</i>, -a Russian cruiser, with five funnels. Tommies call her -“The packet of Woodbines.” It is interesting to note -the confidence the Army and Navy have in each other. -While being rowed over here by some bluejackets, “stroke” -told me that he was in the <i>Irresistible</i> when she was sunk. -He looked sullen, and then said, “However, they’ll catch -it now the khaki boys have arrived.” The prevailing -opinion amongst the Tommies is that the landing will be -a soft job, with <i>Queen Bess</i> and her sisters pounding the -land defences with shells. Then the confidence French, -British, and Russians have in one another is encouraging. -The feeling prevails that when once the landing is effected<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -Turkey will cave in, and that will have a great influence -on the duration of the war. But a Scotsman said to -me to-day, “Remember, Kitchener said ‘A three years’ -war.’”</p> - -<p>Sir Ian Hamilton this evening sent round a brief exhortation -beginning, “Soldiers of France and of the King,” -which bucked up everybody.</p> - - -<h3><i>April 23rd.</i></h3> - -<p>A bright day. Took estimate of stores on board to -see if troops had enough rations. Found shortage; signalled -Headquarters, who send stores to make up. Received -orders where to land on Sunday. Have to go ashore at -“V” Beach with the first load of supplies and start depot -on beach. Naval officer on board with a party. Breezy, -good-looking young man, very keen on his job.</p> - -<p>The first boat of the fleet leaves, named the <i>River Clyde</i>, -an old tramp steamer, painted khaki. She contains the -Dublin and Munster Fusiliers. Fore and aft on starboard -and port the sides are cut away, but fastened like doors. -She will be beached at “V” Beach, and immediately that -is over, her sides will be opened and the troops aboard will -swarm out on to the shore. Good luck to those on board! -She slowly passes the battleships, and turning round the -boom, is soon out of sight.</p> - -<p>The strains of the Russian National Anthem float over -the harbour from the <i>Askold</i> and the first large transport -leaves the harbour, a big Cunarder, the <i>Aucania</i>, with -some of the 86th Brigade on board. Great cheering. What -a drama, and how impressive the Russian National Anthem -is. Evening again. Little “Tinker Bell” flashes begin -to get busy.</p> - -<p>On lower deck the Tommies give a concert, with an -orchestra composed of a tin can, a few mouth-organs, -and combs and paper—“Tipperary,” “Who’s your Lady -Friend?” etc.</p> - -<p>Feel just a bit lonely and homesick. Longing for the -time when I can see my sisters again and punt up the river -at dear old Guildford. But what about the Tommies on -board?—they have just the same feeling, and yet keep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -playing their mouth-organs. Hear that Ian Hamilton -feels a bit anxious over this job, but that Hunter-Weston, -our Divisional General, is full of pluck and confidence. -He says that he will not “down” the man who makes -mistakes yet tries to remedy them, but that the man -that he <i>will</i> “down” will be the one who slacks and -avoids work.</p> - - -<h3><i>April 24th.</i></h3> - -<p>Another bright day. Some transports and battleships -leaving harbour. Issue extra days’ rations to troops on -board, which makes four days’ that they will have to -carry. Their packs and equipment now equal sixty -pounds. How they will fight to-morrow beats me. I -tried a pack on and was astonished at its weight. We -have left harbour and are steaming for the scene of the -great adventure. Hope we shall not meet a submarine -or drifting mines. Have spent the evening with some -young officers of the Essex. They all seem a trifle nervous, -yet brave and cheery. They play a Naval game called -“Priest of the Parish,” but it falls flat. I felt nervous -myself, but after cheering them up, felt better. Told -them it was going to be a soft job.</p> - -<p>We arrive at five in the morning, and troops are to land -at six. London will be ringing with the news on Monday -or Tuesday.</p> - -<p>If successful, the war out here will soon be over, we -think.</p> - - -<h3><i>April 25th.</i></h3> - -<p>Was awakened up at four by the noise of the distant -rumbling of guns, and coming to my senses, I realized that -the great effort had started. I dressed hastily and went -on deck, and there found the Essex and Royal Scots falling -in on parade, with full packs on, two bags of iron rations, -and the unexpended portion of the day’s rations (for they -had breakfasted), entrenching tools, two hundred rounds -of ammunition, rifle and bayonet. I stood and watched—watched -their faces, listened to what they said to each -other, and could trace no sign of fear in their faces and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> -no words of apprehension at forthcoming events in their -conversation.</p> - -<p>It was a simple “fall in,” just as of old in the days of -peace parades, with the familiar faces of their N.C.O.’s -and officers before them, like one big family party.</p> - -<p>They seemed to be rather weighed down with their packs, -and I pity them for the work that this parade is called for. -The booming of the guns grows louder. It is very misty, -but on going forward I can just see land, and the first -officer points out to me the entrance through the Dardanelles. -How narrow it seems; like the Thames at Gravesend -almost. I can see the <i>Askold</i> distinctly. A Tommy said, -“There’s the old packet of Woodbines giving them what-ho!” -She is firing broadsides, and columns of dust and smoke -arise from shore. The din is getting louder. I can’t -quite make out which is the Asiatic side and which Gallipoli. -It is getting clearer and a lovely day is developing. Seagulls -are swooping over the calm sea above the din, and -a thunderous roar bursts out now and again from <i>Queen -Bess</i>. Her 15-inch guns are at work, and she is firing -enormous shrapnel shells—terrible shells, which seem to -burst 30 feet from the ground.</p> - - -<h3><i>8 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The Essex are disembarking now, going down the rope -ladders slowly and with difficulty. One slips on stepping -into a boat and twists his ankle. An onlooking Tommy -is heard to remark, “Somebody will get hurt over this -job soon.” Young Milward, the Naval Landing Officer, -is controlling the disembarkation. He has a typical sailor’s -face—keen blue eyes, straight nose and firm mouth, with -a good chin. They are landing in small open boats. A -tug takes a string of them in tow, and slowly they steam -away for “W” Beach. We hear the Lancashires have -landed at “W” Beach, and are a hundred yards inshore -fighting for dear life. Tug after tug takes these strings of -white open boats away from our ship towards land, with -their overladen khaki freight. Slowly they wend their way -towards the green shore in front of us, winding in and -out among transports, roaring battleships, and angry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> -destroyers, towards the land of the Great Adventure. -Never, surely, was Navy and Army so closely allied.</p> - -<p>I go below to get breakfast, but hardly eat any. The -breakfast-tables are almost empty, except for a few Quartermasters -and people like myself who do not fight. I feel -ashamed to be there, and a friend says the same. The -steward calmly hands the menu round, just as he might on -a peaceful voyage. What a contrast! Two boiled eggs, -coffee, toast, and marmalade.</p> - -<p>Here we are sitting down to a good meal and men are -fighting up the cliffs a few hundred yards away. I get -it over and go up on deck again.</p> - - -<h3><i>8.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>It is quite clear now, and I can just see through my -glasses the little khaki figures on shore at “W” Beach -and on the top of the cliff, while at “V” Beach, where -the <i>River Clyde</i> is lying beached, all seems hell and confusion. -Some fool near me says, “Look, they are bathing -at ‘V’ Beach.” I get my glasses on to it and see about -a hundred khaki figures crouching behind a sand dune -close to the water’s edge. On a hopper which somehow -or other has been moored in between the <i>River Clyde</i> and -the shore I see khaki figures lying, many apparently dead. -I also see the horrible sight of some little white boats drifting, -with motionless khaki freight, helplessly out to sea -on the strong current that is coming down the Straits. -The battleships incessantly belch spurts of flame, followed -by clouds of buff-coloured smoke, and above it all a -deafening roar. It is ear-splitting. I shall get used to -it in time, I suppose. Some pinnace comes alongside -our ship with orders, and the midshipman in command -says the Australians have landed, but with many casualties, -and have got John Turk on the run across the Peninsula. -I turn my glasses up the coast to see if I can see them, but -they are too far away. I can only see brown hills and -bursting shells, a sea dead calm, and a perfect day. The -work of the Creator and the destroying hand of man in -close intimacy. A seaplane swoops from the pale blue -of the sky and settles like a beautiful bird on the dark -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> -blue of the sea alongside a great battleship, while hellish -destructive shells deal out death and injury to God’s -creatures on shore. This is war! and I am watching as -from a box at the theatre.</p> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe15 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_032"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_032_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_032_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent x-small">THE GANGWAY OF THE <i>RIVER CLYDE</i>, OUT OF WHICH -TROOPS POURED AS SOON AS THE SHIP GROUNDED ON -APRIL 25, 1915. CAPE HELLES.</p> - </div> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<h3><i>10.20 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Imbros is peaceful and beautiful, Gallipoli beautiful and -awful. We have moved closer in to the beach and they -are trying to hit us from the shore. Two shells have just -dropped near us, twenty yards away; the din is ear-splitting, -especially from <i>Queen Bess</i>. I can hear the crack-crack -of the rifles on shore, which reminds me of Bulford. -I shall be glad when we land. This boat is getting on my -nerves. We are just off the “Horse of Troy,” as we call -the <i>River Clyde</i>. Are we going to land at “V” Beach? I -can see no sign of life there. Nothing but columns of -earth thrown into the air and bits of the houses of Sed-el-Bahr -flying around, and always those crouching figures -behind the sand dunes. Only the Royal Scots left on -board. Perhaps they are going to land and make good. -I get near Milward to see if he has any orders. He goes -up to the bridge to take a signal.</p> - - -<h3><i>11.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>We are going out to sea again. A tug comes alongside -with wounded, and they are carefully hoisted on board -by slings. They are the first wounded that I have ever -seen in my life, and I look over the side with curiosity and -study their faces. They are mostly Lancashire Fusiliers -from “W” Beach. Some look pale and stern, some are -groaning now and again, while others are smoking and -joking with the crew of the tug.</p> - -<p>I talk to one of the more slightly wounded, and he tells -me that it was “fun” when once they got ashore, but -they “copped it” from machine guns in getting out of -the boats into shallow water, where they found venomous -barbed wire was thickly laid. He laid out four John -Turks and then “copped it” through the thigh, and -three hours afterwards was picked up by sailors.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span></p> - -<p>And then, “Any chance of Blighty, sir?” and I said, -“I’m afraid not; it will be Malta or Alex, and back here -again,” to which he replied, “Yes; I want to get back -to the regiment.”</p> - - -<h3><i>12 noon.</i></h3> - -<p>We are going closer in again, and the Royal Scots are -leaving. The Quartermaster, Lieutenant Steel, remains -behind with ration parties. He is very impatient and -wants to get off; a curious man: tells me he doesn’t think -he will come off Gallipoli alive.</p> - - -<h3><i>2.15 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>I have a dismal lunch, just like the breakfast. I can -see French troops pouring out of small boats now on to -the Asiatic side and forming up in platoons and marching -in open order inland, while shrapnel bursts overhead. -During lunch I find that we went out to sea, but are nearing -the land now. Oh! when shall I get off this ship? I wonder. -Milward tells me that the delay occurred because at first -we were to land at “V” Beach, but that it has become -so hot there that landing to-day is impossible. He says -that I shall land at 4 p.m. I hear a cheer, a real British -one. Is that a charge? My imagination had conjured -up a mass of yelling and maddened men rushing forward -helter-skelter. What I see is crouching figures, some -almost bent double, others jog-trotting over the grass -with bright sun-rays flashing on their bayonets. Now -and again a figure falls and lies still—very still in a crumpled -heap; while all the time the crack-crack of musketry and -the pop-popping of machine guns never ceases. That is -what a charge looks like. I chat to Milward, and he tells -me that the Navy are doing their job well, and he will -be surprised if a single Turk is alive for three miles -inshore by nightfall, but he expresses surprise that we -have only the 29th and Australians; as he figures it we -want six Divisions and the job over in a month. This -depresses me.</p> - -<p>I have orders to leave, and I must get ready.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>4 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>I give orders to my servant and to the corporal and -private of the advanced Supply Section, who are to accompany -me, to get kit ready. I am to land at once on “W” -Beach with seven days’ rations and water, and a quantity -of S.A. ammunition for my Brigade. I superintend the -loading of the supplies from the forward hold to the lighter -which has moored alongside, my corporal on the lighter -checking it, and doing his job just as methodically as he -used to at Bulford. While at work, a few shells drop -into the sea quite near, throwing up waterspouts as high -as the funnel of the ship. Two small boats are made -fast to the lighter, and my servant and I get into the -lighter down the rope ladder. Beastly things, rope ladders. -We sit down on the boxes and wait. We wait a devil -of a time while others join us, among whom are the 88th -Field Ambulance and the Padre. Suddenly Padre gets -a message that he is not to go, and we find that he was -trying to smuggle himself ashore. At last up comes a small -pinnace with a very baby of a midshipman at the wheel, -and a lot of orders are sung out in a shrill voice to men -old enough to be his father. We slowly steam for shore.</p> - -<p>Passing across the bows of the <i>Implacable</i>, we nearly -have our heads blown off by the blast of her forward guns, -and the funny thing is, I can hardly see a man on board. -Pinnaces, tugs, destroyers are rushing in and out of the -fleet of transports and warships. A tug passes close to -us on its way to the <i>Dongola</i>, the ship I have just left, -loaded with wounded, all slight cases, and they give us a -cheer and shout “Best of luck, boys!” We wave back. -We approach close into “W” Beach, where lighters are -moored to more lighters beached high on the sand, and -then the “snotty,” making a sweep with his pinnace, -swings us round. He gives the order to cast adrift, and -then shouts in a baby voice: “I can’t do any more for you; -you must get ashore the best you can.”</p> - -<p>We fortunately manage with difficulty to grab a rope -from one of the moored lighters and make fast while -the two boats are rowed ashore. There we stick. I -<i>dare</i> not leave those seven days’ rations and water for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> -four thousand men, and I shout to seamen on shore to -try to push us in and so beach us. The bombardment -begins to ease off somewhat. The sun begins to sink -behind Imbros, and gradually it turns bitterly cold. I -sit and shiver, munching the unexpired portion of my -day’s ration. I want a coat badly, but by this time my -kit is on shore with my servant. We appear to have been -forgotten altogether. On the cliffs in front of us Tommies -are limping back wounded. One comes perilously near -the edge of the cliff, stumbling and swaying like a drunken -man. We shout loudly to him as time after time he all -but falls over the edge. Two R.A.M.C. grabbed him -eventually and led him safely down. I have a smoke, -and view the scenes on shore. Gradually the beach is -becoming filled with medical stores and supplies. It is -gruesome seeing dozens of dead lying about in all attitudes. -It becomes eerie as it gets darker. At this beach at dawn -this morning there landed the Lancashire Fusiliers. They -were waited for until their boats were beached, when, -as the troops stepped out of the boats, they were fired -on by the Turks, who subjected them to heavy machine -gun fire from two cliffs on either side of the beach. The -slaughter was terrible. On the right-hand side of the -beach the troops had a check, and terrible fighting took -place. Finally, one by one the machine guns were pulled -from their positions in the cliff, and the sections working -them killed in hand-to-hand struggles. On the left side -of the beach the troops found no barbed wire, and so were -able to get on shore, and to the cry of “Lads, follow me!” -from an officer they swarmed up a 50-feet steep cliff, -clearing the upper ridge of Turks, but losing heavily. They -fought their way inland, and after a while were able to -enfilade the Turks holding up our men on the right of the -beach, until at last, by 6 a.m., the whole beach was won -and John Turk was driven five hundred yards or more -inshore.</p> - -<p>Midshipmen and Naval Lieutenants were in charge of -the pinnaces towing strings of boats, and as they -approached the shore, fired for all they were worth with -machine guns mounted forward, protected by shields.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -Then, swinging round, they cast the boats adrift. Each -boat had a few sailors, who rowed for shore like mad, and -many in so doing lost their lives, shot in the back. To -row an open boat, unprotected, into murderous machine -gun and rifle fire requires pluck backed by a discipline -which only the British Navy can supply. Some of the -sailors grabbed rifles from dead and wounded soldiers and -fought as infantrymen. I can see many such dead Naval -heroes before my eyes now, lying still on the bloody sand. -I am sitting on the boxes now, and “ping” goes something -past my head, and then “ping-ping,” with a long ringing -sound, follows one after the other. The crackle of musketry -begins again, and faster and faster the bullets come. At -last I know what bullets are like.</p> - -<p>The feeling at first is weird. We get behind the pile -of boxes, and bullets hit bully beef and biscuit boxes or -pass harmlessly overhead. At last, boats come alongside and -we unload the boxes into them, and I go ashore with the -first batch, and there I meet 86th and 87th Supply Officers, -who landed two hours earlier. My servant meets me -and asks where shall I sleep. What a question! What -does he expect me to answer—“Room 44, first floor”? -I say, “Oh, shove my kit down there,” pointing to some -lying figures on the sand. Five minutes after he comes -up, and with a scared voice says, “Them is all stiff corpses, -sir; you can’t sleep there.” I reply, “Oh, damn it; go -and sit down on my kit till I come back.” I start to work -to get the stores higher up the cliff. Oh! the sand. It -is devilish heavy going, walking up and down with my -feet sinking in almost ankle-deep. It is quite dark now, -and I stumble at frequent intervals over the dead. Parties -are removing them, not for burial, but higher up the beach -out of the way of the working parties. I run into the -Brigade quartermaster-sergeant and ask him, “How’s -the Brigadier?” He replies, “Killed, sir.” I can’t -speak for a moment. “And the Brigade Major?” -“Killed also, sir.” That finishes me. It is my first experience -of the real horrors of war—losing those who had -become friends, whom one respected. And I had worked -in their headquarters in England every day for two months,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -knew them almost intimately, and looked forward with -pleasure to going through the campaign on their Staff. -“How did it happen, Leslie?” I ask. The General was -shot in the stomach while in the pinnace, before he could -step on to the hopper alongside the <i>River Clyde</i>, and died -shortly after. The Brigade Major got it walking along -the hopper. The <i>River Clyde</i> was to have been Brigade -H.Q., and the Brigade was to have taken “V” Beach -that day. So far, “V” Beach was still Turkish. Their -machine guns kept our men at bay. I wonder what it -is like on the <i>River Clyde</i> at present, and whether those -few men are still crouching behind that sand dune.</p> - -<p>Way comes up and says it is going to be a devil of a job -getting those stores ashore, and that he can’t get enough -men. I have a few seamen, Cooper, Whitbourn, and my -servant, so put them on to it, and I myself help. Thus -we struggle on over the sand and up to the grass on the -slope of the cliff. Phew! it is work, and I am getting -dead tired. We work till eleven o’clock and then Foley -and I have a rest behind a pile of boxes on the sand. -Bullets steadily “ping” overhead, and now and again a -man gives a little sigh of pain and falls helplessly to the -sand. The strange part is that I do not feel sick at the -sight of the dead and wounded. I think it is because -of the excitement, and because I am dead tired. I get -a bit cold sitting still, and can’t find my coat, so I huddle -against Foley behind the boxes. A philosophical Naval -officer sits alongside, smoking a huge pipe. Crack-crack-crack -goes the desultory fire of the rifles. The -ships cease firing. It is awfully quiet and uncanny. -Suddenly the musketry and rifle fire breaks out with a -burst which develops into a steady roar. The beach -becomes alive with people once more. All seems confusion. -The Naval officer goes on steadily smoking, and -we sit still, wondering how things are going to develop. -The Fleet is silent. But I can just see the outline of the -warships, with a few lights showing.</p> - -<p>Then I hear an officer shouting angrily, “Now then, -fall in, you men! Who are you? Well, fall in. Get a -rifle. Find one then, and damn quick!” Then another<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -officer shouts, “All but R.A.M.C. fall in. Who are you? -Fall in. Into file, right turn, quick march.” About a -dozen or two march off into the night up the cliff—officers’ -servants, A.S.C., seamen, R.N.D.—every man who was -not either R.A.M.C. or working on the dozen or so lighters -that had been beached. I pause a bit. I feel a worm -skulking behind these boxes while these events are -happening. I express my feelings to Foley, and he says -he feels the same. I say, “We must do something,” and -he replies, “Let’s get rifles,” and off we go searching for -rifles, but can find none in the dark. I lose my temper—why, -Heaven only knows. I see some men falling in, -and I go up to them and say, “Fall in, you men; why -aren’t you falling in?”—although I know they are, and -I find an officer in charge and feel an ass. They move -up to man the third-line trench just running along the -edge of the cliff. All the beach parties have moved up -to this trench. I have lost Foley, and so I follow up with -no rifle and no revolver, and shivering with cold. But -I feel much better, although I am still in a temper. -Extraordinary this! I am annoyed with everybody I -see. Nerves, I suppose. Then a petty officer comes -along and shouts, “Now then, you men, where the —— is -the —— ammunition?” and in the darkness I discern -some seamen carrying boxes of S.A.A. I go to the first -pair, carrying a box between them, and take one side of -the box from one of the seamen, and immediately feel -delighted with myself, the sailor, and everybody. I have -got a definite job. Up we pant; half-way up the cliff, -I find Foley on the same job. A voice shouts, “Have -you got the ammunition, Foley?” It is O’Hara’s voice, -our D.A.Q.M.G., and he comes running down to us.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the Fleet open fire, and the infernal din begins -all over again, the flashes lighting up the beach, silhouetting -men on shore and ships lying off, and all the time the song -of bullets. Red Hell and a Sunday night! And this is -war at last! I never thought I should ever get as near -it as this, when I was a civilian. O’Hara says, “Who’s -that?” to me, and I answer my name, and he says, -“Righto! give us a hand with this little lot, lad.” He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> -bends down, and he and a sailor lift a box. Foley and I -lift another, and six seamen (I find they are off the -<i>Implacable</i>) lift the others, and off we pant up the cliff -over that third-line trench, lined with men of the beach -parties with fixed bayonets. It’s a devil of a walk to the -second line, and it reminds me of hurrying to the railway -station with a heavy portmanteau to catch a train. Foley -and I constantly change hands.</p> - -<p>The seamen too find it heavy going. We arrive at the -second line and run into the Adjutant of the Lancashire -Fusiliers, calmly walking up and down his trench with a -stick. We halt, open the boxes, and hang the strings of -ammunition around our necks and over our shoulders. -I am almost weighed down with the load. We have a -rest, taking cover in the trench now and again as bullets -come rather thicker than usual. The firing is frightful—now -a roar of musketry, and now desultory firing—while -the ships’ guns boom away in the same spasmodic way. -O’Hara then says, “Come along; follow me,” and we go, -headed by the Adjutant of the Lancashire Fusiliers to -show us the way, and on over the grass and gorse into the -blackness beyond. We are lucky, for it is a quiet moment -and we have only to go three or four hundred yards, but -just as we approach the first line, out bursts a spell of -machine gun and rifle fire—rapid—and I fall headlong -into what I think is space, but which proves to be our -front-line trench. I fall clean on top of a Tommy, who is -the opposite of polite, for my ammunition slings had tapped -his nose painfully. I apologize, and feeling a bit done, -lie down in the mud like a frog, the coolness of the mud -soon reviving me. We pass the ammunition along, each -man keeping two or three slings. O’Hara wanders along -the trench, having to keep his head low, for it is none too -deep and bullets are pretty free overhead, while I remain -and chat to the Tommy, another Lancashire Fusilier, who -is shivering, with teeth chattering and wet through, for -it is raining. A Tommy on the other side of me is fast -asleep and snoring loudly. The one awake describes to -me the landing of the previous early morning, the machine -gun fire and the venomous barbed wire, with the sea<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -just lapping over it, and the exciting bayonet work that -followed.</p> - -<p>I am enjoying myself now, for I am in the front-line -trench with a regiment which has just added a few more -laurels to its glorious collection. It is curious, but no -shells are coming from the Turks, and bullets are such -gentlemanly little things that they do not worry me. It -is funny, but everybody up here appears very cool and -confident, while on the beach they all are inclined to be -jumpy. O’Hara comes back with the two sailors. Foley -has disappeared, and the other four sailors also have gone. -We push along to the end of the trench, and the firing -having died down somewhat, we climb out into the open -and wend our way back. We seem to miss our bearing -and go wandering off a devil of a way, when another burst -of firing from a few machine guns forces us to dive promptly -into a hole which by Providence we find in our path. The -two sailors have disappeared somewhere. We find two -men crouching in the hole, and on asking who they are, -find that they are Lancashire Fusiliers, separated from -their regiment. I can hear the swish of the machine gun -bullets sweeping nearer and nearer, farther and farther -from me, and then nearer as the guns are traversed. We -are evidently lying in a hole which was dug to begin a -trench, but which was abandoned. It is practically only -a ditch the shape of a small right angle. O’Hara and I -fall one side, and the two Lancashire Fusiliers the other, -and we crouch for three-quarters of an hour. If we -kneel, our heads are above the parapet. After a while -O’Hara says to me, “I am awfully sorry for getting you -in this fix, Gillam,” and I reply automatically, just as one -might in ordinary life, “Not at all; a pleasure, sir.” -Really though, I don’t like it much, but I am much -happier here than I would be on the beach. The firing dies -down again. The ships’ guns are still banging away -steadily. O’Hara disappears somewhere. I follow where -I think he has gone, but I hear his voice after a minute -talking to an officer, and I therefore lie down. But for a -while I can’t make out the situation. Firing starts again -and I can almost feel the flight of some bullets, and I lie<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -flat. It dawns on me that I am lying in front of a trench. -I wriggle like a snake over the heap of earth in front of me, -into the trench behind, and find it not nearly so deep as -the one I have just left, nor so roomy. The firing gets -so hot that I try to wriggle in beside a form of a man -which is perfectly still. An extra burst of firing sends -me struggling for room into the trench, and the man whom -I thought was dead moves, which sends a shiver down my -spine. I apologize, and he makes room for me. A little -later, the firing dies down again; two figures run past our -trench shouting “All correct, sir,” and an officer shouts -“All correct.” They are runners sent up from the beach. -I can hear O’Hara talking to some officer the other side of -a traverse; then he calls me, and joining him, I follow him -down towards the masts of the ships that we can just see -silhouetted against the brightening sky. Suddenly an -advanced sentry cries, “’Alt, who are you?” “Friend.” -“Who are you?” “Friend—friend—friend!” shouts -O’Hara. “Hands up; advance one,” and for some stupid -reason I think he means advance one pace, which I -solemnly do. O’Hara catches me a blow in the “tummy” -and nearly winds me, saying, “Stand still, you —— fool,” -and I stand stock-still, gasping for breath, with my hands -above my head, while he walks slowly forward with hands -up, and I can just see the sentry covering him with his -rifle the while. I can hear them talking, and after a few -sentences O’Hara calls me and I follow, still with my -hands up, until I reach the sentry.</p> - -<p>I think this frightened me more than all the events of -this night. We continue our way. It is not so dark as -it was, and it has ceased raining. Then a horrid thing -happens. I fall headlong over a dead Turk, with face staring -up into the sky and glazed eyes wide open. He wears a -blue uniform, and I think he must have been a sailor from -Sed-el-Bahr fort. Ugh! I almost touched his face with -mine. Shortly after this mishap we arrive at the third-line -trench, crowded with troops of all kinds, made up from -the parties on the beaches, and get challenged again by -some Engineers. Safely passing these, we stumble down -the slope to the beach. O’Hara sends me off to look for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -the stores, and I last see him going back once more with -a rifle and bayonet.</p> - -<p>I run into Foley, who I find has had an adventurous -time. Having had the ammunition taken off him, he -tried to find us, but turned the wrong way up the trench. -He got out into the open after a bit and wandered apparently -just behind our front line towards “V” Beach, well the -other side of “W.” The rifle fire was so hot there that -he crawled like a caterpillar back to the second line, and -from there doubled back to the beach, steering himself -by the mast-lights of the ships.</p> - -<p>We see that the stores are O.K., and then run into -Carver, who has just landed. Afterwards I find my friend -Major Gibbon, of the howitzer battery, busy getting his -guns ashore. Foley and I then go back to the boxes, and -we lie down like dogs, falling to sleep at once on the soft, -comfortable sand. Dawn breaks over the hills of Asia.</p> - - -<h3><i>Monday, April 26th.</i></h3> - -<p>I awake about seven and find myself nestling up close -against Foley, who is still asleep. I wake him, and he -promptly falls asleep again, murmuring something about -“that —— machine gun.”</p> - -<p>The beach quickly becomes alive with men all working -for dear life, and we get to our feet, go down to the water’s -edge and bathe our faces, and start to finish the work -of making a small Supply depot which we left last night. -My servant comes to tell me that breakfast is ready, and -we go up the cliff and join Way and Carver at a repast of -biscuits, jam, bacon, and tea. But the tea tastes strong -of sea water. All water had been carried with us in tins, -and we had struck a bad batch, for most of them leaked. -And then our day’s work begins in all seriousness.</p> - -<p>By night O’Hara wishes us to have a proper Supply -depot working, the Quartermasters coming with fatigue -parties, presenting their B55’s, and rations to the full -are promptly issued and accounted for in our books. At -frequent intervals the Fleet bombard, but we are quite -used to the roar of the guns now. I am covered and coated -with clayey mud and have no time to clean myself properly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> -We have to take cover continually from snipers—unknown -enemies who fire at us from Lord knows where. One open -part of the beach is especially dangerous, and I cross that -part about six times during a day—not a very wide space, -but I feel each time I go across that I am taking a -long journey. The dead are still lying about, and as there -is no time to bury them, we pass to and fro by their bodies -unheedingly. In addition to these snipers who pick off -one of our number now and again, we have spent bullets -flying in all directions, for our firing-line is but a few hundred -yards away. The Turk, however, does not appear to have -a proper firing-line; he only seems to have advanced posts -strongly held, and must have retreated well inshore.</p> - -<p>It is a blessing for us that no shells come along, only -these spent bullets and the deadly shots from the unseen -snipers. Heavy firing sounds, however, from “V” Beach, -a rattle of musketry and a roar of the battleships and -torpedo-boat destroyers lying at the mouth. Colonel -Beadon and Major Streidinger are getting a proper system -of supply and transport working.</p> - -<p>We become venturesome in the late afternoon, and many -of us, quite two to three hundred, go up on the high land -on the right and left of the beach and make a tour of the -lately captured trenches. Turkish dead are lying about -in grotesque attitudes; the trenches are full of equipment, -and I notice particularly bundles of remarkably clean -linen, and many loaves of bread, one loaf sticking out of -a dead Turk’s pocket. Several of the dead are dressed -in a navy-blue uniform with brass buttons, but most are -in khaki with grey overcoats and cloth hats. Suddenly -a whistle blows, and several cry “Get off the skyline!” -and we all run helter-skelter for the safety of the beach. -When darkness arrives we have a proper Supply depot -working, and strings of pack-mules are hard at work -carrying stores. Guns, ammunition, and men are everywhere. -The Engineers have run out a pier already. -Every one is in the best of spirits, for we have tasted a -brilliant victory, and organizing brains are still at work -in preparation for further ventures. I go to sleep behind -boxes with the sound of a heavy rifle fire disturbing the night.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>Tuesday, April 27.</i></h3> - -<p>I am ordered to make a small advanced depot just -behind the firing line, using pack-mules under Colonel -Patterson, of the Zion Mule Corps. The drivers are Syrian -refugees from Syria, and curiously enough speak Russian -as their common language. While up there, but a very -short walk from the beach, I sit down on the layer’s seat -of one of the 18-pounders of one of the batteries in position -just behind our line. The battery is not dug in at all. -I look through a telescopic sight, but can only see a -lovely view of grass, barley, gorse and flowers, hillocks, -nullahs, and the great hill of Achi Baba in the background, -looking like Polyphemus in <i>Dido and Æneas</i>, with -an ugly head and arms outstretched from the Straits to -the Ægean.</p> - -<p>I ask where the Turks are, and they point to a line some -two thousand yards away, marked by newly turned earth, -which is just distinguishable through strong glasses. I -can see no sign of life, but away up on the ridges of Achi -Baba columns of earth and smoke suddenly burst from -the ground, caused by the shells of our Fleet.</p> - -<p>Rifle fire has died down; hardly a shot on our front comes -over, and no shells at all.</p> - -<p>On our right, shell fire continues. I hear that “V” -Beach is taken. It was taken midday yesterday, but with -heavy casualties. The Dublins, Munsters, and Hants had -the job, and the Hants did magnificently. Colonel Williams, -the G.S.O.1, behaved most gallantly. Snipers were -worrying after the village was taken, and in crossing a -certain part of the village he exposed himself by mounting -a wall, and, standing there for a time, looked down, saying -to men round him, “You see, there are no snipers left, -men.” They leapt after him like cats, and were through -the village in no time. Man after man had been hit on -that wall that morning.</p> - -<p>I make a little depot of boxes just behind the battery, -and go back to the beach and load for another journey. On -arrival there, Colonel Beadon orders me to proceed to “V” -Beach to collect all stores there and make an inventory. -For at first this was to have been our beach, had we been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -able to land on the first day. The French are to take it -over now, as they are coming back from the Asiatic side, -evacuating it entirely. I go down to “W” Beach for -a fatigue party of the R.N.D., and am told to apply to the -Naval Landing Officer, and an officer standing talking on -the sands is pointed out to me as he. I go up to him and -wait for an opportunity to catch his eye; for he is an -Admiral. He is talking to a Captain, and two midshipmen -are standing near. I wait fifteen minutes, manœuvring -for position so that he may ask me what I want. I think -I must have shown signs of impatience, for the Admiral -turned full round toward me, and after looking at me in -mild surprise for a few seconds, during which I felt a desire -to turn round and run up the cliff, quietly turned round -to the Captain and continued his conversation. A minute -or two passed and he walked away with the midshipmen, -and the Captain asked me what I wanted. I told him -a fatigue party, and he pointed out an R.N.D. officer a -hundred yards away, to whom I went, at once obtained -satisfaction, and to whom I should have gone at the -start. I find I have made an ass of myself, and therefore -administer mental kicks. With my fatigue party, my -corporal, private, and servant, I march up the cliff toward -“V” Beach. We pass the lighthouse, which has been -badly knocked about, following the line of the Turkish -trench, which is along the edge of the cliff, to the fort, -which had withstood the bombardment well. At the -fort we see two huge guns of very old pattern, knocked -about a good deal. Then we dip down to “V” Beach, -a much deeper and wider beach than “W,” and walk -towards the sea. Then I see a sight which I shall never -forget all my life. About two hundred bodies are laid -out for burial, consisting of soldiers and sailors. I repeat, -never have the Army and Navy been so dovetailed together. -They lie in all postures, their faces blackened, swollen, -and distorted by the sun. The bodies of seven officers -lie in a row in front by themselves. I cannot but think -what a fine company they would make if by a miracle an -Unseen Hand could restore them to life by a touch. The -rank of major and the red tabs on one of the bodies arrests<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> -my eye, and the form of the officer seems familiar. Colonel -Gostling, of the 88th Field Ambulance, is standing near -me, and he goes over to the form, bends down, and gently -removes a khaki handkerchief covering the face. I then -see that it is Major Costaker, our late Brigade Major. In -his breast-pocket is a cigarette-case and a few letters; -one is in his wife’s handwriting. I had worked in his office -for two months in England, and was looking forward to -working with him in Gallipoli.</p> - -<p>It was cruel luck that he even was not permitted to land, -for I learn that he was hit in the heart on the hopper shortly -after General Napier was laid low. His last words were, -“Oh, Lord! I am done for now.” I notice also that a -bullet has torn the toes of his left foot away; probably this -happened after he was dead. I hear that General Napier -was hit whilst in the pinnace, on his way to the <i>River Clyde</i>, -by a machine gun bullet in the stomach. Just before he -died he said to Sinclair-Thomson, our Staff Captain, -“Get on the <i>Clyde</i> and tell Carrington-Smith to take over.” -A little while later he apologized for groaning. Good -heavens! I can’t realize it, for it was such a short while -ago that we were all such a merry party at the “Warwick -Arms,” Warwick. I report to Captain Stoney, of the -K.O.S.B.’s, who is the M.L.O., and he hands over supplies -to me. I clear the beach, make a small Supply depot -and take stock, and start to issue to all and sundry as on -“W” Beach the previous day. All day the French are -arriving from the Asiatic side. No shelling. Evidently -the Turks have no artillery. Davidson, an R.N.D. officer, -tells me that he is quite used to handling the dead now. -He has been told off to identify them on this beach and to -take charge. I have a good look at the <i>River Clyde</i>. She -managed to get within two hundred yards of shore, and -now she is linked to the beach by hoppers. Two gangways -are down at either side at a gentle slope from holes half-way -up her sides, and very flimsy arrangements they are. -It is difficult for the troops to pass each other on them. -Men poured out from these holes in the ship at a given -signal early on Sunday morning, and were quickly caught -by machine gun fire, dropping like flies into the sea, a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> -drop of 20 feet. Some of those who fell wounded from -the hopper in the shallow water close inshore drowned -through being borne down by the weight of their packs. -Colonel Carrington-Smith, who took over command of the -Brigade when General Napier was killed, was looking -round the corner of the shelter of the bridge through -glasses at the Turkish position on shore when he was caught -by a bullet clean in the forehead and died instantly. Sunday -night on the <i>Clyde</i> was hell. One or two shells, luckily -small ones from Asia, burst right through the side of the -ship. Doctors did splendid work for the wounded all -night on board. A sigh of relief came from all on board -when the signal was given next day to land and take the -beach, which was taken after much hand-to-hand fighting, -the enemy putting up a gallant resistance, encouraged as -they were by their success in preventing us from landing -on this beach on Sunday.</p> - -<p>Addison, of the Hants, is gone; he met his end in the -village of Sed-el-Bahr. He was leading his men, firing -right and left with his revolver. He met a Turk coming -round the corner of a street; he pulled the trigger of his -revolver: nothing happened. He opened it, found it empty, -threw it to the ground with a curse, went for the Turk -with his fist, but was met by a well-aimed bomb, which -exploded in his face, killing him instantly.</p> - -<p>It sounds horrible, but it is war these days. Perhaps -I am over-sensitive, but a lump comes to my throat as I -write this, for just over a month ago Addison and I used -to talk about books at the “Warwick Arms,” Warwick, -and the sight of him reading with glasses, smoking his pipe -before the fire of an evening, is still fresh in my memory. -It would have been hard to believe then that such a quiet, -reserved soul would meet his end fighting like a raging lion -in the bloody streets of Sed-el-Bahr a few weeks later. But -that has now actually happened, and similar ends will -meet like brave men again and again before this war -is over.</p> - -<p>A little amusing diversion is caused in the afternoon -of to-day by a hare running across the beach, chased by -French “poilus,” and being very nearly rounded up.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span></p> - -<p>At 5 p.m. while making up my accounts for the day, -I hear from the Asiatic side the boom of a gun, followed -by a sound not unlike the tearing of linen, ending in a -scream and explosion. Not very big shells, and the first, -so far, that I have experienced on shore. I look towards -Asia and see a flash in the blue haze of the landscape there, -and over comes another, dropping in the sea near the <i>Clyde</i>. -They follow quickly in succession, and each time I see the -flash, I duck with my three stalwart henchmen behind our -little redoubt of supplies, proof only against splinters. -The nearest falls but twenty yards away, and does not -explode. I see through my glasses two destroyers creep -up towards the enemy’s shores and fire rapid broadsides. -After a few of these we are left in peace.</p> - -<p>I am once or twice called up on the telephone—a telephone -worked by a signaller lying on the ground, the instrument -being in a portable case. It is strange saying “Are you -there?” under these conditions and with these surroundings. -The signal arrangements are excellent. Calls come in -constant succession from “W,” “X,” and “S” Beaches. -A wireless instrument is hard at work, run by a Douglas -engine in a tent, controlled by a detachment of Australians. -One of the Australians, a corporal, offers me a shakedown -in his tent for the night, and lends my men some blankets -for their bivouac, which they have constructed out of my -little Supply depot. Owen, O.C. Signals, says that I shall not -get much sleep in the wireless tent, and that I had better -share his tent, which is in a little orchard behind a ruined -house close handy. I have my evening meal of bully, -biscuit, and jam, and lighting my pipe, go for a stroll in the -village, but am stopped by sentries, for snipers are still -at large there, and several casualties have occurred to-day -there through their industry. I cannot help admiring the -pluck of these snipers, for their end is certain and not far -off. Two mutilated bodies of our men are lying in a -garden of a ruined house, but this case so far is isolated. -We have seen the Turks dressing the wounds of some of -our men captured by them. The Turks appear to be a -strange mixture.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>April 28th.</i></h3> - -<p>I awake feeling very fit and refreshed, and find a beautiful -morning awaiting me. Opposite our tent is a little -“bivvy,” made of oil-sheets and supported by rope to -one of the walls of the house and a lilac-tree. A head -pokes out from under this “bivvy” with a not very tidy -beard growing on its chin, and the owner loudly calls for -his servant. While making his toilet he joins in a merry -banter with Owen, who is indulging in a cold douche obtained -from a bucket of water. Some of the French having -invaded the sanctuary of our walled-in camp, picking -several of the iris growing in the wild grass, the officer -with the beard asks me to tell them to get off his lawn, -which I do. I find later that he is Josiah Wedgwood, M.P., -and being interested, get into conversation with him. He -is a most entertaining man, and tells me that he is O.C. -Armoured Cars, but that as it is not possible for his cars -to come on shore, he had been instructed to use his intelligence -and make himself useful, which he was trying to do -with a painful effort.</p> - -<p>Finding that I was a Supply Officer, he begs for some -tobacco, saying that he would be my friend for life if I -could get him some, which I manage to do, for yesterday -I issued tobacco and cigarettes with our rations and had -some over. I go down to my depot for a wash, shave, and -breakfast. Biscuit and bacon do not go well together. -While washing, shells begin to arrive, bursting on the -crest of the hill at the back of the beach. One or two -come near to the beach and a splinter flies towards us, -hitting the boxes behind which we all crowd. The nearest, -so far, so I preserve the splinter. French troops are now -in large numbers on the beach, and I meet my friend the -Russian officer who was on the <i>Arcadian</i>. I see General -D’Amade and his Staff. A French officer takes some -snaps for me with my camera, as he knows more about -photography than I do, including one of a French machine -gun company, who had then two guns in position screened -by branches of lilac at the entrance to the village. He -made fun of them, telling them that it would have been -just as much sense if they had placed a rusty sewing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> -machine, which happened to be lying near, in position -instead. Looking rather foolish, the gunners pack up -and go off somewhere. I am wanted on the telephone, -and hear O’Hara talking at the other end. He says I -am to hand over the remaining supplies to the R.N.D. -beach party, and come back to “W” Beach with the S.S.O., -who is coming over. S.S.O. arrives shortly after. I hand -over to the senior officer of the R.N.D.—a fine old boy -with a crown and a star up—who tells me he landed at -“W” Beach on Sunday morning at six, and had joined -in the scrapping himself.</p> - -<p>We go on the <i>River Clyde</i>, and from there I take photographs -of the beach and one of the mounds of earth that -had proved shelter for those men whom I had seen from -the <i>Dongola</i> crouching for cover on Sunday morning. We -get on to a trawler from the <i>River Clyde</i>, which takes us -round to “W” Beach, and I enjoy the brief sea-trip, and -it is very interesting viewing the scenes on shore from -the sea.</p> - -<p>Off “W” Beach we get on to a pinnace which takes -us alongside a very good pier, considering the short time -the engineers have had to construct one. On shore I -find the K.O.S.B.’s arriving from “Y” Beach, where they -have had a rough handling. “Y” Beach appears to have -been evacuated. I find a lot of officers I know have gone, -including Koe, the Colonel, a very fine type of man. -He really should never have come out, for he was in -indifferent health. He was shot in the arm, which had -to be amputated, and he died shortly afterwards. Our -depot has grown, for more supplies have come ashore. -Our Colonel and a few more of the train officers have -arrived. We have quite a good lunch.</p> - -<p>I find Phillips, our O.C. Company, has gone inland -with some pack mules. He comes back later with rather -depressing news. I hear that a battle has been started, -but I do not pay much attention, for I am quite -accustomed now to the sound of rifle fire and the roar -of the ships’ guns. The battle develops in the afternoon -to a general attack on our part. We are well inshore -now, I should say two and a half miles. Anyway, no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -bullets are flying about the beach now. All snipers have -been rounded up, one of the worst offenders, a huge fellow, -falling dead from a tree yesterday.</p> - - -<h3><i>5.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Brigade Supply Officers are ordered to find out the -location of their units. Horses can be had on application -from D.H.Q. I ask to be allowed to proceed on foot, and -am granted permission, but they rather wonder why I ask. -The honest reason is because I am nervous, and I prefer -to be nervous on foot than a nervous rider on horseback -over a difficult country. I make a bee-line inshore, and -after a quick walk of fifteen minutes or so become intensely -interested in what I see. Shells are passing over my head -from the Fleet, but the rifle fire appears to have died down. -Wounded are straggling back in twos and threes, and -bearers carrying the more serious cases, with great fatigue -to themselves. To carry a man two and a half miles over -rough ground on a stretcher is hard work.</p> - -<p>Nearing the line, I pass police forming battle posts, and -these, together with the badges of the wounded men, -which are sewn on their tunics, returning to the beaches, -helps me to steer my course. Now and again I am warned -not to go near where snipers are said to be, and perpetually -I trip over thin black wires, which serve for the nonce -for signallers’ cables. Passing a cluster of farm buildings, -I arrive at last at a scene of great activity and feel relieved -that I am once more amongst men. A trench is being -dug with forced energy, orderlies are passing to and fro, -signallers at work laying cables, doctors dressing wounded, -and bearers carrying them to the rear. I discover that -we have had a set-back. I learn that we were heavily -outnumbered, but that at 5 p.m. the Turks had retreated -hastily to almost beyond Krithia, which lies in flames on -the high land in front of me towards the left, and that -actually the Lancashires had been through the village.</p> - -<p>Walking along the line, I find the 86th Brigade, and from -them learn where H.Q. 88th are. On my way there I -pass Captain Parker and Major Lee, of the Hants. Major -Lee asks me excitedly if they are getting on with the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> -digging of the trench, and then asks me to get some water -up to some of his battalion on his right by the French, -which I promise to do this night. Walking further along, -I cross a white road of some kind of paving, and then at -last reach my H.Q. I see Thomson, who looks very -ill and tired, but appears very cool and quiet. I shall -never forget his smile when he saw me, saying “Hello, -Gillam!” in a quiet voice. I see Panton busy at dressing -wounded, for alongside H.Q. is an advanced dressing -station. On my right I notice French troops hard at work -continuing the digging of the line to the edge of the -Dardanelles.</p> - -<p>I find out what is wanted in the way of food and water -and where it is to be dumped, and start off back to the -beach. It is twilight and rapidly getting dark, and it is -difficult to find my way back to the right beach, namely -“W.” I remember with a shudder those silent clumps -of bushes and trees, and wonder if snipers are still alert. -I steer my way back by the masts of the ships, the heads -of which I can just see, and I walk as the crow flies over -every obstacle I find. I had learnt at Brigade H.Q. that -the white road ran between Krithia and Sed-el-Bahr, and -mentally I made a note of the way I should take rations -on my return journey, namely to Sed-el-Bahr from “W” -Beach via “V” Beach, and thence up the white road. -I see three figures ahead limping, and as I had not seen -a soul for fifteen minutes and it is getting dark now, I -finger my revolver, wondering if they are some of our -most trying enemies, the snipers. But that thought is -only born from nerves, for they are limping and must -be wounded. On overtaking them I find that one is an -officer, Cox of the Essex, one of those who had played -“The Priest of the Parish” on the <i>Dongola</i> the night -before the landing. He is the only one limping, from a -bullet wound in his calf; he is supported by his arms -resting round the shoulders of two men—one his servant, -unwounded, and the other a man wounded through the -arm. Cox tells me he took cover in a nullah when hit, -and remained there all day. Twice the French advanced -over him, and twice they retreated, leaving him between<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> -the enemy’s lines. A third time British and French advanced, -and he was rescued and helped back. I wish him -further luck in this war, for luck had befallen him—he an -infantryman and a bullet wound in his leg. I like him -rather specially, and feel glad that he is to be out of it -for a while. It is now quite dark and I have missed my -bearings and see a few small lights ahead, and make for -them and am very soon pulled up short by the challenge -of a sentry.</p> - -<p>I discover it is signals of D.H.Q. and am directed to -H.Q., where I am interviewed by a G.S. Officer, who asks -me the position of troops. I tell him French on the right, -and then 88th, 86th, then 87th. I learn that I am on Hill -138, the future name of D.H.Q. I am directed back to -“W” Beach and then endeavour to find O’Hara. After -fifteen minutes I find him and report what I had done, -and am told that he had learnt that a dump of rations, -ammunition, and water is to be made at Pink Farm. -Learning that Pink Farm is the collection of buildings -that I had struck earlier in the afternoon, I point out -that this farm will be too far to the left for my Brigade, -and that I found a convenient site for the 88th dump on -the right of the Sed-el-Bahr–Krithia road, but I am told -that I must have made a mistake. This disturbs me -somewhat, as I feel that I am right. He tells me to come -along with him up to Pink Farm, as pack-mules with -rations, ammunition, and water had started for this dump. -We overtake some of them. Further on we meet Carver -coming back on horseback, and he reports where 87th -Brigade H.Q. is. I now see that the reason why they -have decided on Pink Farm for a dump is because Way -had come back first and reported where his Brigade was, -and that through Carver and I not having turned up they -decided on Pink Farm as a Divisional dump for all the -Brigades. As a matter of fact, Pink Farm will suit 87th -as well as 86th, for it lies between the two, and rations, -etc., from the one dump can be man-handled to the -two Brigades. But for the 88th, the dump is right -out of it.</p> - -<p>We meet Phillips, our 88th Transport Officer and O.C.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> -No. 4 Company, a good soldier; Ford, Q.M. of the Essex; -and Grogan, Transport Officer of the K.O.S.B.’s, a delightful -chap; and passing them we arrive at Pink Farm, -where I tell my tale to Colonel Beadon and Major Streidinger. -It is now raining hard, and I have no coat. It is hard -work getting through the clayey mud. They apparently -do not consider my statement that this dump is of no -use whatever to the 88th, for a bush that I can just see a -hundred yards away is pointed out, the moon then being -up above the clouds, and I am ordered to go two hundred -yards beyond there, where I will find Thomson and 88th -Brigade H.Q., and to arrange with him for fatigue parties -to come back and carry up water. They say they have -just been talking to Thomson.</p> - -<p>This puzzles me, and I start off for that bush. I hate -bushes just now. I pass it and come to a brook full of the -loudest-croaking frogs I have ever heard. Without much -exaggeration they made as much row as a dozen people -would, all talking together loudly. Then I pace what -I think is two hundred yards in front of that bush and -come to nothing at all. Remembering that in the dark -one hardly ever walks in a straight line, I alter my course, -and walking a few yards, see the rays of an electric torch -shining, towards which I walk quickly. It is immediately -switched out as I approach, and now, feeling cautious, -I shout, “Are you British?” but receiving no answer, -I shout once more, and am glad to receive an answer of -“Aye, aye.” I go up to them and find that it is our -front line, and inquire where Brigade H.Q. is. A little -light to my right, but behind rather, is pointed out, to -which I go. There I find Thomson in a trench and give -him the message as instructed. The light of a torch shining -on his face shows me a look of annoyance, expressive -of his thoughts that I am a fool. He politely tells -me that he wants rations taken to the spot that he had -pointed out in the afternoon. I find that I am at 86th -Brigade H.Q., and that Thomson is but visiting there -for a conference. Having a difficulty in finding my way -to Pink Farm, I make for the front line once more, whence -the direction is pointed out to Pink Farm, for I can only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -see a hundred yards ahead and all bushes look alike. I -hear the noise of croaking frogs and make for it.</p> - -<p>It comes from the brook that I had passed, and from there -I go towards what I think is Pink Farm, but find that -it is a collection of the pack-mules under Phillips, and -I unload my feelings in horribly bad language. Then -Phillips gives me a packet of cigarettes, which I am -entirely without. I am wet through now to the skin, and -dog-tired; my pocket is full of iron-ration biscuits, and -between puffs of my cigarettes I munch them. Not a -sound of a shot, not a flash of a gun. Old John Turk -has had a nasty knock and is over a thousand yards -away. Nothing but the sound of the hiss of the gently -falling rain. I follow the farmer’s track up to Pink Farm -and tell my troubles to Colonel Beadon. Colonel Williams, -who had distinguished himself at Sed-el-Bahr, is there -without a coat, and soaked to the skin as I am. I am -instructed to take the remaining mules back to “W” -Beach, link any which I pass, that are on the way up, on -to my convoy, and also pick up any which are starting -off from “W” Beach, make one convoy, take stock and -make a note of it, and take the whole through Sed-el-Bahr -up to the spot Thomson had pointed out to me in the -afternoon. I think of the tale of the odd-job man who -had been given every imaginable job in the world by his -old lady mistress, and who asked her if her house was -built on clay, as he would very much like to make bricks -in his spare time. I go back to Phillips; the convoy -is turned round and off we trek, I at the head, Phillips in -the rear. I meet Davy on the way up with a convoy of -his, and accordingly instruct him to join on to my convoy. -He says, “Look here, Gillam, old boy; you’re fagged out -and are making a mess of things; go back to bed, -old boy. I know all about it, and we have to take these -mules to Pink Farm.” I wish Pink Farm elsewhere, -express my feelings to him in forcible language, and -finally convince him under protest. However, we are -soon friends again, and his convoy links up in rear of -mine. We hear three reports of a rifle ring out on our -right. A sniper, still undiscovered, at work. We arrive<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> -at “W” Beach, arresting the start of another convoy, -which in turn also becomes part of ours, and I go to find -O’Hara. Having found him, I told him my tale of woe; -he says he will come with me to the 88th Brigade; and -after taking stock and tacking a watercart on to the rear -of the column, we trek off to Hill 138. Stopping there, -O’Hara has a chat with the A.P.M., who has been to the -88th H.Q. and assures us that we are on the right track. -On through the ruined village of Sed-el-Bahr we go, down -through a poplar grove enclosing a Turkish cemetery, -when we overtake the C.R.A., riding alone with an -orderly. We are on the white road that I noticed in -the afternoon, and the C.R.A. takes the lead, as he states -that a part of the road further up is rumoured to be -mined. Krithia lies ahead on our left in flames, a -wonderful sight.</p> - -<p>It has stopped raining; we pass several brooks, and from -them comes the clamouring noise of loudly croaking bull-frogs. -We pass one after the other four white pillars of -stone, about a hundred feet in height. On my right I -can see dimly the waters of the Dardanelles. Dawn is -just developing. The C.R.A. raises his hand and we -stop. He rides cautiously forward with his orderly, and -after a minute returns and orders us to follow him. He -turns sharply to the left, makes a wide circuit, we following, -and comes out on the white road once more farther up. -He then leaves us and disappears. We continue for three -hundred yards, when I come to the conclusion that we -are very near our destination, tell O’Hara so, and the -command is given “Halt!” O’Hara and I walk on up -the road. Not a sound is heard—no shells, no rifle fire -whatsoever. I can see no one about. I look to my right, -where Brigade H.Q. should be, and find nothing but some -shallow dugouts. We go off the road to the right amongst -bushes, and trip over a few poor dead Tommies. We -come back to the road. O’Hara thinks I am wrong. -Good Lord! supposing that I am wrong after all this!</p> - -<p>We walk up the road further, and suddenly come to a -sentry standing in a trench on our right. I look to the -left and see another trench and a sentry a little way on,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -on guard. The road goes on into darkness. I am smoking -a cigarette, and am ordered peremptorily by the sentry -on my right to put it out. We question him, and find -that we have arrived at our front line. Every man of -four is on guard, the other three sound asleep in the bottom -of the trench. The sentry tells us that the Turkish line -is a good way ahead, and that he has seen or heard nothing -from there since he has been on guard. He is shivering -with cold, though muffled in his coat, but for all that looks -a fine type of fellow. But he is “pukkah” and 29th as -well. Finest troops in the world, bar none. The finished -type of a disciplined British Tommy. Oh! for six more -Divisions of this quality: Achi Baba would have been -ours this day. He directs us to Brigade H.Q. Following -his direction, we turn back down the road and come back -to the shallow dugouts.</p> - -<p>During our absence Thomas, of the Essex, and a Naval -officer, smoking a huge pipe and muffled to his ears in his -white muffler and blue overcoat, had arrived. They tell -us the dugouts are the 88th Brigade H.Q. We inquire -for Thomson and the rest, and are told that they have -gone to 86th to confer. One by one the little patient -mules are unloaded, and proceed down the road, to wait, -and the boxes, rations, ammunition, and water are spread -singly amongst the thick gorse off the road, so as not to -be seen by the enemy in the morning. While this goes -on I talk to the Naval officer, and learn from him that -he is an observing officer for the ships’ guns; he appears -a very cool customer. He tells me that he is a very -unlucky man to talk to; that an officer yesterday was -wounded while talking to him, and another killed last -night under the same circumstances. I wish him “Good-night -and good luck,” and go back to the mules, and help -to hasten their unloading by helping myself. Colonel -Patterson, O.C. Mule Corps, keeps on urging upon us the -importance of not losing the ropes, as when lost they are -difficult to replace. The last mule being unloaded, we -search for the watercart, but it is nowhere to be found; -but tins of water are up now, and we hear that a well has -been found, the water pure and not poisoned, as we had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -feared. And so we start to trek back. A short way back -and O’Hara shouts “Halt!” Then he says to me, -“Gillam, where’s that —— mine we’ve heard so much -about?” I answer, “Great Scott!” Somebody behind -us gives a muffled cough, and a Tommy, one of the armed -escort, steps forward and in a Tommy’s polite manner -says, “Begging your pardon, sir, but we are standing on -it.” O’Hara shouts “Walk—march!” and we move at -a good four miles an hour until we arrive at the white -pillars and the friendly sound of the croaking frogs; we -realize at any rate that we are safe from land mines. -Evidently this mine is a false alarm. Permission to smoke -is given, and the Syrian boys exchange ration cigarettes -and chatter to each other in Russian. Up to now they -had been almost entirely silent. We pass many French -troops sleeping in little hastily made camps, and we pass -some Zouaves, looking picturesque in the early morning -light in their quaint Oriental uniforms. And so through -the silent cemetery and poplar-trees, through Sed-el-Bahr, -now a large French camp, back past Hill 138 and home to -“W” Beach. I give O’Hara a few of my iron-ration -biscuits and almost stagger to my Supply depot, for I -am hardly able to walk any further, and lie down on my -valise, that my servant has thoughtfully laid out for me, -beside the S.S.O. and Colonel Beadon, falling off to sleep -with the satisfaction that to-morrow at any rate the 88th -will have their rations.</p> - - -<h3><i>April 29th.</i></h3> - -<p>I wake at eight, but am given permission to sleep all -the morning. I have breakfast. Getting fed-up with -biscuit. My servant rigs me up a “bivvy” and I roll -up and go fast asleep. Lord, what a gorgeous sleep it was! -I slept till one, and then had lunch, and after, a shave and -a wash. I did little all day but watch the Fleet firing -and the transports unloading everything imaginable -necessary for an army. We have now rigged up a nice -little mess with some ration boxes and a tarpaulin, and -have quite a nice dinner at night with a boiled ham, bully -beef rissoles, and biscuit pancakes. Our chef is “some”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -chef. A Naval officer at night, after dinner, is continually -shouting “Any more for the <i>Arcadian</i>?” where G.H.Q. is. -Reminds me of “Any more for the <i>Skylark</i>?” at Brighton. -It is pleasant going to sleep at night with the sound of -the swish of waves breaking on the shore in one’s ears. -The Fleet guns roar away consistently all day.</p> - - -<h3><i>April 30th.</i></h3> - -<p>To-day we have some shells on the beach, but not very -terrible ones. Many of them go “fut” in the ground -without exploding. If this is all the artillery they can -put up against us, Lord help them! They must be having -hell from the Fleet.</p> - -<p>Go up to Brigade H.Q. via Sed-el-Bahr this morning -with a rifle and dressed as a Tommy. All go up dressed -like that now, for snipers are still about. On past the -white pillars to Brigade H.Q., we pass the bodies, still -unburied, of Turks and British—fallen heroes lying broken -amidst wild flowers. I call and see Major Gibbon at his -observation post, but from there can see nothing of the -enemy. Before me is a simple, lovely summer scene; -yet amidst the nullahs and the olive groves, the flowers -and barley, Death lurks, alert to claim his toll. It is a -long walk back to “W” Beach via Sed-el-Bahr. Snipers -are still at large, which is remarkable, and we are warned -not to walk across country, though to do so would be much -quicker. I pass two snipers as we arrive back at the white -pillars, prisoners in the hands of the French. One prisoner -is limping badly from a wound in the foot. The French -appear to have made themselves very much at home in -Sed-el-Bahr. I pass an officers’ mess and lunch is on. -I am surprised at the delicacies on the table, including -many bottles of white wine. We are still on bare rations, -and bully and biscuits at that, but they appear to have -bread, probably from Tenedos, and probably for officers’ -messes only; and they all seem very bright, as if it was -a huge joke. As we are about to enter Sed-el-Bahr a -French sentry stops us, and warns us not to go through -the village, as two men have just been sniped. We pass -at the back of “V” Beach. The view from here of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> -Fleet is magnificent. Occasionally one sees a whiff of -yellow smoke shoot from the side of a ship, and a few -seconds after a deafening report follows. It takes some -getting used to.</p> - -<p>We pass a company of Senegalese manning a trench -dug at the back of “V” Beach. They lie in it, peering -over the top, looking inland intently, as if they expect the -enemy, who is more than three miles away, to rush down -on them at any moment.</p> - -<p class="b2">I pass General D’Amade at the H.Q. at the back of -“V” Beach, and stop to chat with the French officer -who was on the <i>Arcadian</i> with me, and also a French -Naval officer who was on the <i>Southland</i>. The Naval officer -inspects my rifle with interest, saying it is the first -time that he has handled one of the short patterns. He -tells me that he saw the fight from the <i>Andania</i> on -Sunday morning, and says that he thinks that it will -stand out as the most magnificent fight of the war.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="MAY">MAY</h2> - - -<h3><i>May 1st.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">A few</span> shells, but none very terrible, come over; one, -however, in our depot. Beautiful weather. Heavy rifle -fire heard at night. Now and again a Turkish shell lands -over from Achi. The rifle fire last night was Turkish; -nothing happened. Probably “wind up” on their part. -Letters arrive. While sitting on a box reading, a shell -comes beastly near, but bursts in a not very frightening -manner twenty yards away. But I and the few near me -fall flat to the ground. I have been advised to do this -by an officer who is an expert in shelling, and he tells me -that by so doing, though a shell may burst ten yards from -you, one should be safe. My servant rolls over and over, -shouting “Oh!” and I rush to him, asking him if he was -hit, but find that a stone had caught him on the forehead, -and but for a nasty bruise he was none the worse. This -afternoon I have a bathe off “W” Beach. Crowds are -bathing. What a contrast to this time last week! Only -a week ago we landed, and now “W” Beach is like a seaside -resort as far as the bathing is concerned. I felt in -holiday mood, and with that delightful refreshed feeling -that one has after a dip, I strolled along the sand up to -the depot for a cup of tea. But the scream of a shell overhead -from Achi, which fell in the water beyond the bathers, -brought my holiday mood to an abrupt end. The mouth -of the Dardanelles and the sea at the end of the Isthmus -is full of warships, from battleships to small destroyers -and their necessary small craft, transports, hospital ships, -trawlers, and lighters. Engineers, French and English, -are working feverishly at the building of piers and finishing -those already begun. Stores are being unloaded, and -marquees for their storage are being erected.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span></p> - -<p>The scene here is extraordinarily interesting. I have -never seen such a motley gathering in my life. The beach -is crowded with figures, all working for dear life. The -sea is dotted with lighters, out of which are being poured -all kinds of military stores—wood, sand-bags, wire-netting, -galvanized iron, cooping, and the like; all these things -are being conveyed to the piers and from there put ashore. -On the shore itself parties are at work erecting tents and -marquees, and other parties are hard at work making -dugouts, plying picks and shovels with a will. Here they -are erecting the signals station, a contraption of beams -and sand-bags. Outside, wires are being laid, and so the -work of the beach parties goes busily forward. Yet to -my untutored gaze the scene is wonderful. The whole -beach is a hopeless mix-up of French and English, with -a good sprinkling of Naval men—presenting a kaleidoscopic -effect, with the afternoon sun shining upon it, such -as I have never seen before. It is of course quite an -orderly mob really—but this is only recognized when one -watches the work of one group at a time. Here is the -real business of a military landing on a hostile shore, everybody -knowing what to do and how to do it, and so the -work goes on without a hitch.</p> - -<p>At 7 p.m. I start off with a long convoy of pack-mules -with rations for Brigade H.Q. via the Sed-el-Bahr–Krithia -road. At present it is impossible to use vehicles, -for the first line is served by but two roads, which are -nothing but farmers’ tracks. An armed escort of the -Essex Regiment accompanies us. The Padre of the 88th -Brigade, who is just joining, comes along with me, intending -to join the Worcesters in the trenches. Just -entering Sed-el-Bahr we are halted by a French officer, -and almost immediately my head feels as if it is blown -off by four spouts of flame stabbing the darkness just a -few yards away, followed almost instantaneously by four -deafening reports. A French “75” battery is in action, -and that means business. Almost immediately after No. 4 -gun had fired, No. 1 fired, then No. 2, No. 3, and No. 4 -again, and so on, shell after shell following each other in -rapid succession into the night, towards Achi Baba. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -gunners, crouching like cats by their guns, were lit up -fitfully by each flash, disappearing again in the pause of -a fraction of a second between each round. An officer in -a dugout behind, with telephone glued to his ear, shouts -incessantly directions as to range, elevation, and depression -to an officer who is standing nonchalantly smoking a cigarette -behind the battery, who in turn shouts orders to the guns. -The guns reminded me of two couple of hounds held in -leash at a coursing meeting, barking with eagerness to -be let loose. Our little pack-mules are greatly concerned -at first, but become surprisingly docile as the firing goes -on. A sharp order is given by the French officer standing -behind the weapons; the gunners relax their tense attitudes -and begin attending to parts of the guns. The -officer who had first stopped us most charmingly and -politely apologizes in English for delaying us, and our -convoy proceeds on its track. I chat to the Padre; find -he is fifty-five years of age and before the war a peace-loving -rector. What circumstances to find one’s self in -after fifty-five years of peaceful life! I record him in my -mind as a very gallant old gentleman. We pass through -the French camp down through the trees to the poplar-grove -cemetery, which always now fills me with a curious -awe, so ghostly do the graves look in the moonlight, lying -peacefully amidst the poplar-trees. It is a most beautiful -sight, with the glimmering water of the Dardanelles beyond.</p> - -<p>Ahead on our right the reflection of the bright beam of -Chanak searchlight, swinging round from east to west -across the Narrows, can be seen in the sky, searching for -any of our ships, should they make a dart up the Straits. -Past my friends the loudly croaking bull-frogs, past the -stately white pillars, on up the white road that leads to -Krithia and towards our dumping-ground—Brigade H.Q.—the -little mules pad carefully and surely along, led by the -Syrian mule-drivers, who chatter confidentially to each -other in Russian, for they now are at home in their new -life, and delight in the thought that they are doing their -bit in the great cause.</p> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_064a"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_064a_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_064a_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">BATHING OFF GULLY BEACH, HELLES.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_064b"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_064b_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_064b_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">“Y” BEACH, CAPE HELLES, WHERE THE K.O.S.B.’S LANDED ON APRIL 25, 1915, -HAVING TO EVACUATE THEREFROM ON THE FOLLOWING DAY.</p> - - <p class="noindent center x-small">The beach was captured later from the land by the Gurkhas. Its situation remained close -behind our front line during the whole campaign. The high ground was well within rifle range -of the enemy during the whole campaign. The enemy lines are behind the camera.</p> - </div> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p>We arrive at our destination, and lo and behold! no one -is there. Phillips and I confer. I decide to go on with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -Smith, Q.M. of the Hants, to find H.Q. We take an orderly -each from the armed guard. I take an Essex man. We -follow the white road, and arriving at the front-line trenches -are pulled up short by the “’Alt, who are you?” “Supply -Officer.” “Advance to be recognized.” We advance. -Smith asks where Battalion H.Q. are, and learns they are -a hundred yards to our left. We find, a hundred yards -along, a part of the trench dug back a bit to serve as -Battalion H.Q. The trenches are deeper now; one can -stand up in safety, but only just. Smith asks for Captain -Reid, the Adjutant; he steps out to us. We express -surprise at the quietness of things. There is absolutely -no firing on our front, but we can hear desultory firing on -our right from the French line. Reid offers us cigarettes -and lights one himself. I remark to him that it is unwise -to light a cigarette standing in the open, to which he -replies that the enemy are a long way away. He -directs me to Brigade H.Q., further along the line. I -wish him “Good-night,” and with my orderly proceed -cautiously in the direction he had pointed, for it is now -pitch dark. I am challenged again and again, and find -myself after a bit among the Royal Scots, and one of their -officers kindly lends me an orderly, who takes me to Brigade -H.Q., dug in a dry brook, some two hundred yards behind -the front line. Thomson is asleep, and it is with regret -that I have to wake him. He tells me to dump rations -in the same place as the last night’s. I start to go back, -steer my way by the front line once more and in the dark -miss the direction, and find myself about to walk across -a track which runs through our front line towards the -enemy’s and an alert sentry bringing me to the halt with -a sharp challenge, I find my mistake. I then leave -myself in my orderly’s hands, who takes the lead and guides -me back to the Brigade dump, when I find that Phillips -had met Q.M.S. Leslie and had nearly finished the unloading -of the pack-mules. I really believe that if I had not been -challenged and had passed through our lines towards the -enemy’s, my orderly, one of the “doesn’t reason why” -breed, would have calmly followed me. Some one taps -me on the shoulder, and a Tommy asks me, “Where’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> -your rifle, mate?” I reply that I haven’t one. He then -says, “Ain’t you one of the ’Ants?” and wonderingly -I reply that I am the Supply Officer, and the man brings -himself erect with a sharp click, begging my pardon. The -reason of his mistake then dawned on me; I have on a -private’s tunic.</p> - -<p>Our goods delivered, we trek back, and on arrival at -Sed-el-Bahr the sound of heavy rifle fire breaks out, but -by the sound it is from our own rifles. We wonder what -is happening, and think ourselves fortunate that we had -finished our job before this activity started. I am in rear -of the column, walking with my orderly about fifty yards -behind the last mule, when I have a bad nerve shock. I -have had many during the past week, but this one takes -the biscuit. Out of a hole in the side of a broken-down -house there leaps a French soldier. He shouts something -to me in French and points a rifle, with gleaming bayonet -fixed, at my chest. In days long gone past, it has sometimes -happened that one of my young sisters or a -brother with a warped sense of humour would leap round -from the corner of the landing in our early home, just as -I might be passing along, and shout “Boo-h!” I used -to go hot and cold with fright, and appeared to cause -intense amusement by my state of nerves. When this -boy sentry, who by his looks could not have been more -than nineteen, jumps out from his hole in the wall, my heart -seems to stand still, until it feels that it is never going to -start its job again, and then with a bound it carries on -its job at about ten times its normal speed. My mouth -feels like dry blotting-paper, and all I say is, “Oh, hell!” -at the same time throwing my hands well over my head. -My orderly, who appears most unconcerned, comes to my -rescue and says with a Cockney accent “Ongley,” and -our gallant ally brings his rifle to the order and allows -us to pass.</p> - -<p>Previous to this incident I had been chatting to my -orderly about his life in the Army in peace days, but now -walk on in silence until we have overtaken the convoy, -finding the mules halted. Suddenly the French battery -that we had passed earlier in the evening opens a terrible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> -fire. I go along to its position and find that half our -convoy had passed earlier, but that, the battery being -suddenly called into action, the rear half of our column -had been ordered to stop. In the excitement two of the -mules get adrift, and with good instinct trot off to their -own lines, ignoring the cries in Russian from their drivers -and the angry bark of the little “75’s.” A halt of ten -minutes, and, again with polite apologies, the pleasant -French gunner officers, wishing us “Bon soir,” allow us -to proceed. Home to bed and a good night’s rest.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 2nd.</i></h3> - -<p>A Taube flies over and drops one bomb on our new -aerodrome to the left of Hill 138. One of our machines -which is up swings round, heading straight for it, and -quickly drives it back. A couple of aircraft guns from -one of the ships put in some good practice, little white -puffs of shrapnel bursting perilously near. A few wounded -come in from a little show last night, and amongst them -are wounded Turkish prisoners.</p> - -<p>We are issuing stores now from one depot for the whole -Division, and to all others who come. Way and Carver -are running it. I simply hold a watching brief for my -Brigade, but give a hand when I can in helping the -business to run smoothly. Foley is up the coast a short -way at “X” Beach, running his own depot for the 87th -Brigade, and wires constantly come in from him indenting -on us for stores he has not in stock. It is just like a business -store, and we are running short of supplies, but a Supply -ship has come in to replenish our stock and form a large -reserve depot. Our depot is the hot-bed of rumours and -news, and we feel the pulse of the Division through the -news that the Quartermasters and ration parties bring. -Bad news has arrived this morning. Captain Reid, to -whom I was talking last night, has been killed, and Major -Lee, his C.O., with him. I inquired as to what time it -happened, and learn that it was at eleven o’clock. I -was talking to him at ten. It appears that shortly after -I had left him, word was passed down the trench for -C.O.’s and Adjutants to go to the end of the trench to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> -meet the Staff. Major Lee, accompanied by Captain -Reid, immediately went, and met two officers dressed in -khaki with Staff tabs. One of these officers fires a revolver -in Major Lee’s face, killing him instantly, while the other -murders Captain Reid. In their turn they were quickly -bayoneted by Lee’s and Reid’s orderlies. The line is -attacked by some two hundred Turks, who are met in -the open by our men and quickly retire, getting hell from -the French “75’s” in doing so. The two officers dressed -in our Staff uniform proved to be Germans, and their -action was an attempt to break our line.</p> - -<p>I hear also that Godfrey Faussett, Colonel of the Essex, -has been killed. This upsets me far more than danger, -and I have the nightmare question running in my head -sometimes now, when talking to my friends or seniors -whom I knew so well in England, “I wonder if I shall see -you alive again.”</p> - -<p>A few snipers have been caught, and they present a -weird and uncanny appearance. They wear uniforms of -green cloth, to which in some cases are attached or sewn -sprigs of gorse-bush and small branches of trees. Their -rifles, hands, and faces are painted green, and they can -be passed unnoticed at but a few yards’ distance. Most -of them have been found in holes and dugouts underneath -clusters of bushes, with two or three boxes of ammunition, -and enough bread and water to ration them a -fortnight.</p> - -<p>This morning the Fleet and the few guns which are on -shore are bombarding the Turkish positions heavily, and -the slopes of Achi Baba are alive with bursting shrapnel -and spouts of earth and smoke shooting skywards, but -through it all Achi Baba looks calm, dignified, and formidable, -like a great giant saying “Thus far and no -further.” Verily it looks the fortress gate of the Peninsula, -and we are but on the threshold, or rather on the footpath -leading to the threshold. Turkish artillery replies but -feebly with shrapnel, but the shooting appears good.</p> - -<p>I hear the crackle of rifle fire and learn that we are again -attacking. Good luck to the 29th!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>Afternoon.</i></h3> - -<p>Guns of the Fleet and shore batteries steadily boom -away. Rifle fire has died down. Wounded are beginning -steadily to come in, and as fast as possible are evacuated -on to hospital ships. I go up to Headquarters and find -site for dump for rations retired somewhat. I passed -many wounded and stretcher-bearers coming back. I -saw Colonel Williams, our new Brigadier, calmly walking -about in the most exposed positions. A regiment of -Gurkhas are on the right of our line, and those in support -have dug themselves each a little dugout, just room enough -for a man to lie in, rolled up. These little dugouts are in -regular lines, and each one being occupied with a little -Gurkha makes a most quaint scene. I take snaps of one -or two, to their intense delight. They look very workmanlike -in their shirts, wide hats, and shorts.</p> - -<p>It is now dusk and we hear that we advanced, but -soon after had to return to our former positions. We -are now badly outnumbered. The enemy have lately received -many reinforcements, and are receiving them daily. -We want several more Divisions to carry this business -through. We have dinner, and I go to bed rather -depressed. Heavy rifle fire bursts out at night, and in -the middle of the night our Adjutant has to get up and -organize a convoy of pack-mules to take up ammunition.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 3rd.</i></h3> - -<p>It is a perfect morning, but it is getting very hot. I -ride up about 10 a.m. with the company sergeant-major to -as far as the furthest of the white pillars, and there we -tether our horses to a tree and walk the rest of the way -up the white road. All is absolutely quiet on the front—not -a shell, not a rifle shot.</p> - -<p>All firing from the Fleet has ceased, and the gunners -on shore are busy cleaning their guns and digging gun-pits -and dugouts. It is quiet and peaceful. At the front -line I cannot see any signs of the enemy. I chat with -Major Barlow of the Essex, who was at Warwick with me. -He is now O.C. Essex. It is strange being without the -roar of the guns once more.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span></p> - -<p>The Fleet has been treated to rather a hot reception, -and finds it advisable to lie a little further down the -entrance to the Straits, which it accordingly does. The -mouth of the Straits looks glorious: the intense blue of the -sea, with the warships and transports with their motley -collection of lighters, picket boats, etc., all stand out -strongly against the steely blue of the sky. Further off, -the lovely Isle of Imbros shimmers like a perfect gem -set in a sapphire sea. One can just make out the lovely -violet tints of her glorious vales, tempered by the pearly -grey mists that lightly swathe her mountain crests, as -she stands out sharp against the sky. A beautiful sight -and not easily forgotten. Looking landward, the trees -are all bursting into leaf, the country is wrapped about -in a cloak of flowers and flowering grasses, with Achi Baba -as a grim and rugged sentry, its sides sloping away to the -sea on either hand. Truly a grim and forbidding sentinel, -but one which most certainly has to be passed if we are -to do any good at all.</p> - -<p>To-day an enterprising Greek landed in a small sailing -vessel with a cargo of oranges, chocolate, and cigarettes, -and in a very short time was quite sold out. We shall be -having a Pierrot troupe on the beach next.</p> - -<p>At night as the moon rises to the full the picture is -perfect. The coast of Asia—that land of mystery and -romance, with the plains of Troy in the background, immortalized -for ever by the sweet singers of ancient Greece. -One can almost picture those god-like heroes of the past -halting in those titanic fights which their shades perhaps -wage nightly in the old battlefields of Troy, halting to -gaze in wonder and amazement on the strange spectacle -unfolded before them—modern war, that is, and all its -attendant horrors. Hector, Achilles, and Agamemnon in -their golden harness—their old enmities forgotten—must -surely gaze in astonishment on the warlike deeds and -methods of another age than theirs. The soft, shimmering -sea merges into liquid silver where in the dim distance the -little wavelets lap around the silent sleeping isles. There -is Tenedos, standing like a sugarloaf in a silver bowl, silent -as the night itself, and filled with mystery. Further off<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> -Imbros, that queen of the isles, sleeps like a goddess wrapt -about in a garment of violet and silver, all unheeding -apparently of war’s alarms—surely on such a night as -this the mythology of the ancients becomes a living thing, -and it does not tax the intellect much to imagine Diana, -queen and huntress, surrounded by her attendant maidens, -pursuing the quarry through the violet vales of the isles. -Again, one can almost hear the splashing of Leander as -he swims the Hellespont to keep his tryst with the lovely -Hero.</p> - -<p>Most of those living on the beach have dugouts now, -but I still live in a little house made of biscuit-boxes. -The Royal Scots came into action the first time last night. -The Munsters were taken by surprise and had their trench -rushed, and the Royal Scots were given the job to retake -it, and cleared the trench of the enemy with two -platoons at the point of the bayonet in twenty minutes. -Greek civilian labour has now been landed, and we use -them for unloading the lighters. A Turkish spy could -with ease pass himself off as a Greek labourer of one of -the gangs. Personally, I think we are making a mistake -in employing them.</p> - -<p>Carver tells me that the other day he noticed one -sitting half-way down the cliff in full view of Yen-i-Shehr, -waving to and fro a fly-whisk with a metal band fastened -round the handle which clasped the ends of the horsehair; -he feels confident that by the way he was waving the -whisk, with the rays of the sun reflecting from the metal -band, he was signalling by code to the Turkish observation -post on Asia. I think it was quite possible for him to do -so, for a bright piece of metal reflecting the strong rays -of the sun in the clear atmosphere of this part of the world -can be seen a long way off, and I should say quite easily -as far off as Yen-i-Shehr is from “W” Beach. To a -casual passer-by the Greek would appear to be waving flies -away from his face with the whisk. Flies are daily becoming -numerous here. One of the Greek foremen, who spoke -English, assured me that it was only a matter of weeks -now before Greece would come in on our side, and that he -looked forward to the day when he would take his place in -the ranks.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span></p> - -<p>It is strange how very silent everything is to-day—not -a gun nor a rifle shot—and we stroll about the beach -chatting with the Naval officers.</p> - - -<h3><i>Afternoon.</i></h3> - -<p>I hear that there was an armistice declared for the purpose -of burying the dead of both sides. It lasted about -two hours, during which both Turks and our men sat on -their respective parapets watching each other with interest -while parties were out in front, mixing freely with each -other, clearing away their own dead. It was an extraordinary -situation. One of the Turks picked up two of -our live bombs which had fallen short and had failed to -explode, and was making back to his trench with them, -when his officer, spotting him, called him back and made -him hand the bombs back to our men, and apparently -gave him a good cursing in strong Turkish. A short time -after, both sides are back in their trenches, and if a head -should appear over the parapet of either side it is in danger -of being promptly blown off.</p> - -<p>At dinner I express the thought that I wished Turkey -would throw over the Germans and become our allies. -Our Tommies and theirs were so near this morning, and, -by God! they would fight well side by side. I say that -Turkey is the most valuable asset to have on either side. -If she were our ally the Dardanelles would be open to the -Allies, and the Central Empires would be utterly defeated -in a year. As an enemy she will cause the war to drag -on Lord knows how long, providing we are unsuccessful -in forcing the Straits. I am “howled down,” and am -told that Achi Baba will be ours in a month’s time, and -once ours, Turkey is finished. But strolling up to the -top of the cliff after dinner, I take a long look at Achi. -Ours in a month? I wonder. I turn, depressed and pessimistic, -into my house of biscuit-boxes, and bless the man -who invented sleep.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 4th, 5th, 6th.</i></h3> - -<p>Nothing much to record. Have been very busy these -last few days forming a Supply depot of my own for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> -88th Brigade. I go up to Brigade each day, riding as -far as the white pillars, but go bang across country now -and not through Sed-el-Bahr. Our line is quite deep and -well dug in now. Firing going on steadily at night. -Quite heavy rifle fire, but it is mostly Turkish. I learn -that at night he gets the “wind up” and blazes away -at nothing. One or two parties have made sorties, but -our machine guns have made short work of them. The -Division is like one big family party; we all know each -other so well now, and one can go through the trying -vicissitudes of war with greater vigour if with men who -have become intimate friends. The horrible part is losing -friends; much worse, I think, than having to go oneself. -Good friends leave such a large gap. Tommies seem -pretty cheerful at night on the beach. After dinner we -sit outside our biscuit-box houses and have coffee (not -a word! I got some coffee by exchanging jam with a -Frenchman the other day—strictly against rules), and -looking out to sea, enjoy some excellent cigars of the C.O.’s. -“Any more for the <i>Arcadian</i>?” is constantly shouted -out by a Naval officer on the beach, calling those who live -at G.H.Q. who are billeted on the <i>Arcadian</i> to the pinnace. -I often wish I could say “Yes” one night, and go on board -and have a good bath and a whisky and soda. Tommies -play on mouth-organs and sing Tommy’s tunes. At -Lemnos, Tommy was marching round the decks of the -transports singing “Who’s your Lady Friend?” A few -days after he goes through one of the most sanguinary -fights of the war; a week after he is on the beach with a -mouth-organ making a horrible execution of “A Little -Grey Home in the West.” A unique creation, the British -Tommy. If he ever does think of death or getting wounded, -he always thinks it will be his pal and not he who will get -hit, and goes on with his mouth-organ, washing his shirt, -or writing to his latest girl at the last town he was billeted -in. Those with girls are the cheeriest.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 7th.</i></h3> - -<p>To-day we are bombarding Turkish positions heavily -and the village of Krithia preparatory to advancing our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> -lines to the slopes of Achi Baba in the hope of my Brigade -taking the hill. In the morning I issue at my dump, and -after lunch ride with Carver and Sergeant Evans to find -our respective Brigades. We ride up the west coast across -grass and gorse, and arriving at a gully, encounter shell -fire, which is now getting more frequent. We leave our -horses with an orderly at this gully and proceed on foot, -skirting the edge of the coast. Shells are bursting furiously -over Krithia, which is again on fire. We reach a very -deep and beautiful gully, which appears to run inland some -long way, and we climb down its slopes to the shore. There -we find an advanced dressing station, to which wounded -are continually being brought by stretcher-bearers, or -helped along by R.A.M.C. men. Several of the wounded -are R.A.M.C. also.</p> - -<p>I inquire at a tent, which is a signal station, of the Signal -Officer in charge, as to the location of 88th Brigade H.Q., -and learn that they are inland. We chat awhile to this -officer, who appears strangely familiar to me, and at last -I place him. I find that I dined with him four years ago -in Edgbaston, and his name is Mowatt, a Birmingham -Territorial in business on his own, which through the war -has gone to the winds. He tells me he has been here -for four days and is often troubled by snipers. They -had caught one four days previously in a dugout which, -facing the gully, allowed his head and shoulders to appear, -giving sufficient room for him to take aim through a screen -made by a bush growing in front. The entrance to his -dugout was from the cliff side facing the sea, along a passage -ten yards in length. He gave himself up, though he had -food and water for some days more. As we talk, two -wounded limp down the gully through the water, for the -bottom of the gully is in parts a foot deep in water, and -I question them as to how they were wounded. They -reply, “Either spent bullets or snipers,” and that they -were hit about a mile further up the gully.</p> - -<p>We go back, climbing up the cliff, and walk along the -cliff’s edge to where we had left our horses. A detachment -of New Zealanders, I should say about a thousand, -are moving slowly in several single files across the gorse to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> -take their place on the left of our line to relieve some -Gurkhas, and I have a good opportunity of studying them -at close quarters. I am struck by the wonderful physique of -the men, all of them in splendid condition. I am rather surprised -to see them, for I thought that they were up country -with the Australians. I leave Carver at this point, and -Sergeant Evans and I cut across country, and trotting up -the track which is now called the West Krithia road, reach -Pink Farm. We go beyond there, find H.Q. in a trench, -and learn that rations are to be dumped at Pink Farm. -We are warned that we should not be riding about there, -as we might draw shell fire. Krithia is getting it terribly -hot from our shells, and is well on fire now. We learn -that the French have had a check, and that we in consequence -have been unable to advance. We come back and -have a delightful canter all the way back to “W” Beach. -I have a meal, and then, with Williams, at dusk escort -rations, this time in limber-wagons as well as on pack-mules, -up the West Krithia road to Pink Farm, where I find Leslie -waiting, and we come back on a limber, I squatting on -the rear half and Williams in front; quite an enjoyable -ride. Star shells are now in use, and they go up at odd -intervals, poising in the air for a second and then sailing -gracefully to earth, illuminating the immediate vicinity. -It was fairly quiet all night; just an odd shell or two -fired by our Fleet at intervals.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 8th.</i></h3> - -<p>Before breakfast this morning I am ordered to take -two hundred rations up to some Lancashire Fusiliers -(Territorials) who have found themselves in our part of -the line. Arriving at Pink Farm, shrapnel begins to come -over, and I get the mules under cover of the farm as best -I can and go on to H.Q. I continue to walk along the -road, and then cut across the open country to the trench -where the Brigade are. They are sitting in the trench -having breakfast, and tell me that the Lancashire Fusiliers -have now gone to the beach. Festin, of the Border Regiment, -is now our Brigade Major, and he asks me to take -a message to the Field Company of Engineers attached to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> -the Brigade, just behind Pink Farm, off the road. As -we talk, shrapnel bursts over Pink Farm and to its left, -probably trying to get at a battery which is in position -there. I take my leave, and on getting back to Pink Farm -I find that one of the Syrian mule-drivers has been hit in -the stomach by a shrapnel bullet. He is lying on the ground -behind the walls of the farm groaning, and on seeing me -cries piteously to me in Russian. I send over to an Indian -Field Ambulance close by, and in a few minutes two native -orderlies come running over noiselessly with a stretcher. -They stoop down, and with the tenderness of women lift -the wounded boy on to the stretcher and carry him away. -We trek back, and on the way I deliver the message to the -Field Company.</p> - -<p>For transport we now have little A.T. two-wheeled -carts, known in the Indian Army as ammunition transport, -drawn by two little Indian mules. These are in camp -near the lighthouse, between “W” Beach and “V” -Beach. Delightful place this, and most interesting. The -orderliness of everything is astonishing; the quaint little -tents—oblong, with sloping sides—are arranged in neat -rows. The inhabitants are surely the most cleanly people -on earth. Here I see groups of them, stripped except for -a loin-cloth, busy washing their shining, dusky bodies. -After this, little brass jars are produced, from which oil -is poured over them and rubbed in. Others, having finished -this, are industriously combing their long black locks and -bushy beards. Others, again, are making chupatty, a -species of pancake, in broad, shallow metal bowls—I taste -one and find it excellent. Other groups of these dark -warriors are sitting outside their little tents smoking -hookahs; all the men we meet salute punctiliously. Near -by are the white officers’ tents, quite luxurious affairs. -The whole place is delightful and looks almost like a riverside -picnic, only everything is very orderly. As to the -carts before mentioned, these are most ingenious. They -are little two-wheeled affairs with a pole, like the old-fashioned -curricle; each is drawn by two small mules, -not larger than ponies. Wonderful little fellows they are, -bred in Northern India—Kashmere and Thibet, I believe.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> -Lord! how they work—they can pull almost anything, -and they are so surefooted and the little carts so evenly -balanced that they can go about anywhere. It is a very -interesting sight to see a convoy of these carts on the -move, with their dusky, turbaned drivers sitting crouched -up like monkeys on them, chanting some weird Oriental -ballad as they go, to the accompaniment of jingling harness. -They are well looked after, too, these little mules—the -drivers have had the care of them for years, perhaps—and -their training is perfect. They look as fat as butter, and -their coats shine like satin—very different from the hulking, -ugly brutes that we have brought—American. They -appear to be quite docile, and it is not necessary to have -eyes in the back of your head when walking through -their lines.</p> - -<p>I hear to-day that Major Barlow, to whom I was talking -a few days ago in the trenches, has been badly wounded.</p> - -<p>One aeroplane has been very busy going out and coming -back after short trips over the enemy’s positions, followed -by little puffs of bursting shrapnel when over their lines. -The weather is perfect.</p> - -<p><i>Swiftsure</i> and <i>Queen Bess</i> are now up the coast off the -gully, and are giving the left slope of Achi Baba and Krithia -something to write home about. Torpedo destroyers are -also joining in, and later the shore batteries take up the -tune, and a bombardment similar to yesterday’s starts, -preparatory to another battle.</p> - -<p>French “75’s” are barking away incessantly, and the -bombardment is increasing in ferocity.</p> - -<p>New Zealanders are on the extreme left, then the -87th Brigade, next the 88th and 86th, or what is left of it, -with the new Territorial Lancashire Fusiliers. Next come -Australians, up on the hill by the White House; and on -the extreme right down to the edge of the Straits, the -French. The line forms the shape of a -<span class="figinline"> -<img src="images/bowl-shape.jpg" alt="concave section" /> -</span>, the extremes resting on ground on either side of the Peninsula.</p> - -<p>Through glasses at six o’clock I can see little figures -running here and there on the high ground to the extreme -right beyond the White House—now taking cover, now -running forward, now disappearing on the other side;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> -ugly black shells rain amongst them and make a sickening -sight. Turkish artillery appears to have increased considerably. -Their shells rain all along our line, but none -come on the beaches. All their artillery seems concentrated -on our trenches. Again and again I see shells fall -right in the middle of men who seem to be running. It -is difficult to discern whether they are Turks or our men.</p> - -<p>I watch till the sight sickens me, and then I come away -and arrange the rations to go up to-night, seeing the -boxes roped up on to the pack-mules or loaded on to the -A.T. carts. Two shells come near the beach, bursting -with a black explosion in the air. Rifle fire goes on all -night, but artillery dies down to fitful shelling. I hear -that the net result of to-day’s work is a gain of five -hundred yards, but that we have had great casualties.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 10th.</i></h3> - -<p>Another most perfect day. All day yesterday wounded -were being evacuated as fast as possible. I now have to -feed a Brigade of Australians as well as my own Brigade. -I go up in the morning to their positions, and for the first -time get amongst them at close quarters. They have -honeycombed the land near the white pillars with dugouts -and have their H.Q. at the White House on the hill. I -see Captain Milne, their Supply Officer, and arrange matters -with him.</p> - -<p>Our Vet. (Hyslop) and Sergeant Evans ride to-day with -me and we call at our Brigade H.Q., now moved some few -hundred yards behind their former position of a week -ago, dug in a dry nook surrounded by trees, in a spot similar -to a park of some large house in England. Their mess -is simply a table of earth dug out by digging a square trench -in which they sit, the centre of the square being the table. -There I find Colonel Williams, Thomson and our new Brigade -Major. I find that Festin was wounded yesterday whilst -standing up in the trench in which I was talking to him -the day before. Troops have found little springs and -an ancient well, and so there is now a plentiful supply of -water—and beautiful water too. In addition to Australians -and the Punjabis in camp by the white pillars, there are now<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> -Lancashire Fusiliers and Manchesters, the whole making one -large camp of dugouts and trenches in orderly rows.</p> - -<p>It is fortunate that there is very little rain, otherwise -the place would be a quagmire in five minutes.</p> - -<p>The Punjabis have built walls of mud and stone shell-proof -shelters, and are much handier at making themselves -comfortable than our white troops. In the battle of the -8th the Australians showed marvellous dash and individual -pluck—not a straggler among them. Many deeds of great -heroism were performed, and if a man gets an honour in -their ranks it will be one worth having.</p> - -<p>It is difficult to pick up exactly our front-line trench, -and the Q.M. of the Worcesters the other day, finding a -trench containing Munsters, inquired as to the whereabouts -of his regiment, and was told that they were on in front; -he walked on, and finding nothing, came back. He was told -that if he walked much further “he wouldn’t ’arf get -Worcesters.” He was walking bang into the enemy’s lines.</p> - -<p>Two aeroplanes are up to-day, circling energetically -around the slopes of Achi Baba.</p> - -<p>Our batteries are busy, steadily plugging shells into the -enemy’s lines.</p> - -<p>An aeroplane is up and the Turks are trying to pot it. -Aeroplane sails up and down Turkish lines unconcerned.</p> - -<p>The curious thing about being under shell fire is that -when a shell comes near you, you duck down and take -cover, and immediately after resume your conversation.</p> - -<p>This morning at the white pillars I said to the Australian -officer, “What is your strength?” He said, “Look -out!” Down we bobbed. A sound like tearing linen, -ending in a shriek and a bang. Up we jump, and he calmly -continues the conversation.</p> - -<p>Met Duff, my H.A.C. pal, again; so funny seeing him; -both of us ride together. Last time we rode together -was at Goring, side by side in B Sub., A Battery. Never -thought that we should both be officers riding side by -side on the Gallipoli Peninsula. Have a delightful bathe -off “W” Beach to-day; the water crowded with bathers, -French and English. By far the best bathing I have ever -had in my life.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>May 11th.</i></h3> - -<p>Rather cloudy to-day, and much cooler. Rode up to -Brigade H.Q. with Hyslop, to the same place as yesterday. -Saw Australian Supply Officer. As I was talking to him -a few shells came over our way—not singly, but by twos -and threes. I have got used to the sound of them passing -through the air now, and know by the sound whether -they are coming my way or not. Again, as yesterday, -the Australian officer gave me the warning “Look -out!” and we dived for a dugout. The Australians -get awfully amused when they see people doing these -dives out of the way of shells, and it certainly does look -humorous.</p> - -<p>My Brigade is moving back to the reserve trenches for -a rest, and they need it. The reserve trenches are those -by the white pillars, occupied at present by the Lancashires -and Manchesters (Territorials). I meet General D’Amade -and his Staff, including the officer that I knew on the -<i>Arcadian</i>. They are all riding. He stops me, asking if -I have seen General Parish, the Australian General. I -express regret that I have not, at which he appears -annoyed. One of his Staff asks me to point out 29th D.H.Q., -and I direct him to Hill 138, in rear of us. I point out the -Australian camp to the General, who goes off then to -inquire for General Parish.</p> - -<p>I leave Hyslop, who has another job on, and start to -ride back across country, having a few jumps over the -new rest trenches. I am overtaken by an officer who is -the Adjutant of one of the Lancashire Fusiliers (Territorial) -Battalions, the 6th, I think. Lord Rochdale is in command. -He tells me that they have been in Egypt training for a -long time, and cursing their luck at being seemingly sidetracked, -with not much opportunity of seeing any active -service. Suddenly they were wired for, and in twenty-four -hours left Egypt for here. On arrival they marched -straight up to the trenches, and at 5.30 p.m. the next day -went into action and lost heavily. As I was being told -all this I heard a most weird noise, as if the whole of -the sky were being rent in two, ending in a deafening -explosion, and looking over my shoulder in surprise, I see<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> -twenty-five yards to my left, over a little mound, a spout -of smoke and earth and stones flung into the air. I say -to my companion, “I think we had better trot,” which we -do. It is strange, but my old horse did not seem to worry -much when the shell burst. It must have been a 6-inch, -and is the first big one that I have had near me so far, -and may it be the last. Its sound is unlike that of any -shell I have heard up to now, and far noisier in its -flight; I think that if they chuck these sort about on -the beach I shall be jumpy in a very short time. I only -hope the beaches are out of range, or will be before very -long. Evidently they have a new gun. At times I feel -very optimistic, looking forward confidently to our trip -over Achi Baba; at other times Achi Baba looks so forbidding -that I feel we shall all spend the rest of our lives -hanging on to this tiny bit of land. I can canter to Brigade -H.Q. from the beach in fifteen minutes, and walk from -there to the front line in another fifteen, and that gives -an idea of how far we are on. I ride over to the aerodrome—we -are fortunate in finding such a perfect one—and over -to “V” Beach, which the French have got into a much -more shipshape order than ours. I count seven battleships -and seven destroyers up the entrance as far as Morto -Bay; the “packet of Woodbines” is still off the Asiatic -coast and touches up Yen-i-Shehr and Kum Kale with -10-inch shells. From the high ground overlooking “V” -Beach the Fleet at the entrance makes an imposing spectacle, -waiting for the Army to open the gates of the Straits -before they dash through to the Marmora. The <i>Goliath</i> -and <i>Prince George</i> fire odd shots now and again at Chanak. -Late in the afternoon we get a few light shells over on -“W” Beach and a few men are slightly hit. In a little -gully between “W” Beach and “X” Beach preparations -are being made to start a field bakery, and we are promised -real bread in a few days. One of our mares has given birth -to a foal; my mare, much to the mother’s annoyance, -is much interested.</p> - -<p>Our train is in camp now on the high ground on the left -of “W” Beach looking inland, and have made very good -lines. All the men have built little shelters out of wagon-covers,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> -sail-cloths, and tarpaulins, in rows opposite their -horse lines, the whole looking like a well ordered gipsy -encampment. I made myself very unpopular there to-day -by saying, “You won’t ’arf cop it in a day or so when -John Turk finds you out.”</p> - -<p>Saw General Hunter-Weston making a tour of the beaches -to-day. He appeared in very good spirits. Our trenches -in the front line are now getting quite deep, and sand-bagged -parapets are being rapidly built. The Gurkhas -do not like trench warfare at all, and cause much anxiety -to their white officers by continually popping their heads -over to have a look round. The Turkish line has crept -much nearer to ours since the last battle, and they are -also rapidly digging in. A party of Gurkhas were ordered -out to capture a machine gun in an emplacement on an -advanced knoll in front of the Turkish right and our left. -The gun was captured, and one little Gurkha brought back -a Turk’s head, and it was difficult to make him part with -it. Heavy firing broke out at eleven o’clock to-night and -lasted an hour or two.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 12th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is raining hard this morning, and very cold as well. -I visit the Senegalese camp at “V” Beach. They are -physically very well built men, well up to the average of -6 feet in height. They are as black as coal, with shiny -faces, like niggers on Brighton beach, and very amusing -in their manners. At the last battle they charged magnificently -with horrible yelling, frightening the poor Turk -out of his wits. They are equipped with wide, square-bladed -knives about 14 inches long.</p> - -<p>Wireless news is now typed and published nearly every -day. To-day we hear that the <i>Lusitania</i> has been sunk -and that Greece and Italy are likely to come in. An -extract from a Turkish paper says that we have been -pushed into the sea, and almost in the same paragraph -that “the foolish British will persist in attacking.”</p> - -<p>We have quite a comfortable little house now at our -Supply depot on the beach, made out of boxes with a sail-cloth -overhead.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span></p> - -<p>Hardly any firing to-day. Shore batteries remarkably -quiet, but Fleet firing intermittently.</p> - - -<h3><i>Afternoon.</i></h3> - -<p>Go to Brigade H.Q. in the afternoon and find the rest -camp at the white pillars an absolute quagmire of mud, -many of the dugouts being half full of water. Two 60-pounder -guns are now in position on the cliff to the west -of “W” Beach, and this afternoon I go up to have a look -at them firing. Their target is at a range of 9,600 yards, -well up on the left shoulder of Achi Baba, and an aeroplane -is up observing for them. The flame of the explosion -shoots out some feet from the muzzle and from the breach -also, and makes a terrific roar, which echoes all round the -ships lying off, the sound playing ducks and drakes from -one ship to another. One can see with the naked eye the -shell hitting its target on Achi Baba. Our Fleet gets busy -again, and later the batteries on shore join in, and a bombardment -starts. At 6.45 p.m. the Gurkhas come into -action on the left, and quite a big battle develops. We can -just see the men through glasses. Crowds from the beach -flock up on to the high ground to have a look, getting -into direct line with the 60-pounders, much to the Gunner -Officer’s annoyance, and police finally are posted to keep -them out of the way. A shell exploding with a black -burst over our heads, but very high, causes the watching -crowd to scatter in a somewhat amusing fashion. Gregory -and I move forward to a trench in front and look at -the battle through glasses. All I can see now is a host -of bursting shells on the left and intermittent shelling -on the right and centre. Suddenly another of these black -devils of shells bursts over our heads and covers me with -small hot cinders which sting. We go back to dinner -whilst the battle is still going on.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 13th.</i></h3> - -<p>At two o’clock this morning I was awakened by a -most curious noise. It sounded like thousands of men -off “V” Beach crying and shouting loudly. Shortly -after I see searchlights, about eight of them, flashing from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> -the battleships at the entrance to the Straits. The noise -goes on for about half an hour and then suddenly ceases. -I stand for a few minutes puzzling what it is, and watching -the searchlights still wielding their beams of light around, -and then turn in again.</p> - -<p>At 6 a.m. I am told that the <i>Goliath</i> has been torpedoed -and sunk. A Turkish destroyer came down the Straits -and got her clean amidships, and she sank in half an hour. -I hear that half the crew is lost. The destroyer, if seen -at all, disappeared in the darkness. Poor old <i>Goliath</i>! -and it was only the other day that I was watching her in -action.</p> - -<p>We now move our depot upon the high land on the left -of “W” Beach and further inshore, and divide it into -four, one for Divisional troops and one for each Brigade. -While on this job at 7 a.m. I hear the sound of bagpipes -coming nearer and nearer. It is the first time that I have -heard bagpipes since I was on the <i>Southland</i> with the -K.O.S.B.’s. Sure enough it is the K.O.S.B.’s, “all that -are left of them,” some three hundred strong out of the -strength of eleven hundred that they landed with from -the <i>Southland</i>. They come swinging down to the beach -with one officer at their head, and to see them marching -well behind the inspiring skirl of bagpipes almost brings -tears to my eyes. Three hundred left out of a crack -Scottish battalion, average service of each man five years. -I ride up to Brigade again this morning and find all very -quiet on the front. I hear that we were successful in -yesterday’s and in last night’s battle, and that the Gurkhas -have taken a large important bluff on our extreme left on -the other side of the gully.</p> - -<p>I bathe in the afternoon, and while enjoying the pleasure -of doing side-strokes with the sea having a slight swell -on, I hear that terrible rending noise of a 6-inch shell, -similar to those that dropped near me the other morning, -which “bursts with a bang at the back of the beach.” My -bathing is promptly brought to an end, and I go back to -my “bivvy.” I feel safer there, somehow, but why I -should I cannot explain. But all who have been under -shell fire will bear me out in the statement that even if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> -one is in a tent one feels more confident under shell fire -than if in the bare open, with the exception, of course, -of when one is caught under it going to some definite place -or finishing some urgent definite work. Then one’s mind -is concentrated on getting to that place or finishing that -job. But sitting down on the beach hearing the heavens -being torn asunder by an unseen hand, as it were—the -noise of the tearing developing into a mighty hiss and shriek, -ending in a great explosion which shakes the earth under -your feet and echoes far away into the distance, followed -by the whine of flying pieces of hot metal, sometimes very -near your head—is a most disconcerting and unnerving -position in which to find oneself.</p> - -<p>For the benefit of those who have been so fortunate -as to never have heard a shell burst in anger, a slight description -of it may prove interesting. The first thing one hears -is a noise like the rending of linen, or perhaps the rush of -steam describes it better. This gets louder and louder, -and then, as the projectile nears the end of its journey, -one hears a whine, half whistle, half scream, and then the -explosion. If it is very near there is an acrid smell in -the air. One’s feelings are difficult to describe. You -duck your head instinctively—you feel absolutely helpless, -wondering where the thing will burst, and as you hear -the explosion a quick wave of feeling sweeps over you as -you murmur, “Thank Heaven, not this time!”</p> - -<p>Unfortunately, they have got the range of our beach -accurately now, and are beginning to do real damage. -The little shells that we had earlier did not frighten us -much, but these beastly things make us all jumpy.</p> - -<p>Several men have been hit to-day, and about a dozen -horses and half a dozen mules killed. All are taking cover -as best they can. If one hits this bivouac where I am -now writing, this Diary comes to an untimely end.</p> - -<p>I wish our aeroplanes could find this gun; it appears -so close up to us, and if it takes it into its head to fling -these beastly things about all day long, this beach will be -untenable. A damned fool near me has just said, “If they -go on much longer they will hurt somebody.” I chuck -a book at his head.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span></p> - -<p>In France they do get a chance of rest behind the scenes -now and again, but here it is one constant “Look out!” -and down we bob. After a bout of shelling one imagines -shells coming. For instance, when an aeroplane sails over, -people duck their heads, as it sounds just like a shell; and -then also there are so many ships in harbour that one is -constantly hearing the noise of escaping steam, sounding -just like a shell.</p> - -<p>One of our men has just had the side of his boot torn -away; fortunately, however, only the skin of his foot -was grazed and bruised.</p> - -<p>Fifty horses have now been killed, and three men killed -and a few wounded.</p> - -<p>Had to go on duty at depot at head of beach. Shelling -stopped. Finished duty 6.45. Shell immediately came, -and I fell flat behind some hay. After that a few more -came over and then stopped.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 14th.</i></h3> - -<p>Big gun started searching the beach with large high -explosive shells at four, for two hours. Every one had to -take cover. Aeroplane reconnaissance cannot locate gun, -which is a damned nuisance. They come with a terrific -scream and burst with a deafening explosion, most upsetting -to one’s nerves. We all take cover behind the cliff. Not -a soul can be seen on the beaches. All animals are removed -to down under the cliff.</p> - -<p>Casualties, twenty-three mules and three men wounded.</p> - -<p>One piece of shell fell at my feet, and I picked it up, -only to drop it quickly, as it was so hot.</p> - -<p>After being under fire of such awful shells one laughs -at mild shrapnel.</p> - -<p>Getting very hot, but perfect weather.</p> - -<p>Saw Laird for a few minutes and had a chat with him.</p> - -<p>Not much time for writing to-day. Go up to Laird’s -“bivvy” and have a long talk with him over old times. -He landed on that first Sunday on “S” Beach, and -though in the Engineers, had the experience of taking -part in three bayonet charges. He was in a neat little -dugout when I went up, and was busy looking for a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> -scorpion. I helped him look for it, and it seemed so -strange that after all these years we should meet on the -Gallipoli Peninsula, and before sitting down to talk of -old times should be looking for a scorpion that had got -into his dugout.</p> - -<p>Scorpions and snakes about three feet long are becoming -more numerous here, but I believe they are harmless, except -in self-defence.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 15th.</i></h3> - -<p>All was quiet on the front last night, but to-day there -has been one long artillery duel.</p> - -<p>I go up to Brigade H.Q. this afternoon, and go round -by the road through Sed-el-Bahr this time, because “I -don’t like them shells; run as you may, you can’t get -away from them.” On the way I passed Ashmead Bartlett -riding with a Naval officer. The latter came and had tea -with us later, and said he was on the <i>Implacable</i>, and -Ashmead Bartlett was “bivvying” there as well. He is -a correspondent for several papers.</p> - -<p>Several battleships which were moored at the entrance -move off at nightfall now, after that feat by the Turkish -destroyer which sank the <i>Goliath</i>.</p> - -<p>There is to be a general attack to-morrow night, Sunday. -Some of the Tommies do not like attacking at night; they -say, “Let us get them in the open, by day.”</p> - -<p>The knocking out of a sniper by some of the South Wales -Borderers was described to me to-day by one of their -officers. Two officers were standing up in their trench by -a machine gun, one holding a periscope, when a bullet -went through the sleeve of his coat, wounding the officer -to whom he was talking. The first officer spotted a sniper -bob down immediately after. He then got down in the -trench beside the man working the machine gun, and -pointed out to him the bush behind which the sniper had -crouched. The machine gun was laid on to it. Then -the man on the machine gun and the officer took cover, -the man holding his hand up to the machine gun ready to -pop off. The officer then cautiously raised the periscope -over the trench and looked carefully at the lower mirror.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> -He saw in the mirror a head slowly appear above the bush -eight hundred yards away, then a rifle lifted. He said to -the machine gun man “Fire.” Pop-pop, and the sniper -rolled over dead on his side beside the bush.</p> - - -<h3><i>5.30.</i></h3> - -<p>Two Taubes have just come overhead flying at a great -height. Anti-aircraft guns are firing and there is some -good shooting, but the Taubes have turned and are going -back to the Turkish lines. One of our aeroplanes has -gone up.</p> - -<p>A beautiful clear day, and one can see in detail the -Asiatic side and the Isle of Imbros. No heavy shells -to-day so far on this beach.</p> - -<p>Invitations to lunch and dinner, etc., go on every day -here, and it is a regular custom for men in the firing-line -to invite men from the base (only four miles back) to a -meal and vice versa. This campaign is quite unique in -many ways.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 16th.</i></h3> - -<p>Perfect day again. Saw Brigade H.Q. and hear they -are moving further to the left up in the firing-line, about -half a mile beyond Pink Farm.</p> - -<p>Hear that our wounded, and French and Australian, -have been arriving in great numbers at Cairo and Alexandria. -The British are now being sent to Malta. Hear -that 20,000 Turkish wounded have arrived at Smyrna, -and 12,000 at Constantinople. Put in divisional orders -to cheer us up. Fancy a civilized nation sending round -statistics of the result of their slaughter to cheer and exhort! -Yet it cheered me. Strange how quickly one -becomes bloodthirsty and savage.</p> - -<p>Fighting proceeding on our right by French. No general -attack being made to-day, idea being to strengthen line, -push forward steadily by sapping, and then, when in -strong position with three or four lines of supports, -to make a rush. This will probably happen in a few -days now.</p> - -<p>Big gun has not been knocked out after all, for we had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> -a dozen of the best over to-day, but I was up in front and -so missed it.</p> - -<p>Gurkhas on left have pushed forward well up to left -of Krithia. Still a few snipers behind our lines on left -of Krithia.</p> - -<p>We had divine service this morning behind 88th Brigade -lines. A service under such circumstances is most impressive, -every soul there being within easy distance of a -horrible death. It is a lovely morning, and as the soldiers -sing the hymns with lusty voices, an accompaniment is -provided by the screaming of shells overhead. But the -singing continues unabated. Here one hears the same -dear old tunes of our childhood, but under what different -circumstances! At home, the breeze softly whispering in -the trees outside the ancient church, with the shaded light -glimmering through the stained glass and men and women -mingling their voices in praise to God; and then, out here, -the breeze murmurs as at home, the birds are singing and -the sun is shining—but over the congregation, the bareheaded -rows of khaki figures, even while they sing the -same old hymns as of old, the Angel of Death hovers with -naked sword. Then the benediction in level tones from -the Padre and the service is ended. Surely the most -impressive I have witnessed. For here in a double sense -one stands face to face with one’s Maker.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 18th.</i></h3> - -<p>Our Brigade has now moved up about three-quarters -of a mile in front of Pink Farm, and I go up this -morning to find them. I ride up to, and leave my horse at, -Pink Farm, and walk the rest of the way down past a -ruined house, on over a small nullah, along the road past -a battery up to a white house called Church Farm, where -I think it is about time to halt and inquire the way. A -few Tommies encamped in this house tell me Brigade H.Q. -is two hundred yards further on in the trenches, and I -walk on. I notice a Tommy walking in the same direction -with a biscuit tin on his shoulder, which he has rubbed -over with mud to prevent the sun glittering on it. I continue -on in the direction indicated, and hear a few “pings”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> -past my head, but thinking they are the usual spent bullets, -take no notice. Suddenly something “zips” past my head, -making a row like a huge bee flying at high speed; the -noise being unlike the usual “ping” of a bullet passing harmless -overhead, I conclude that I am being deliberately fired -at by a sniper, and so bend double, and steering a zigzag -course, jog-trot across the remaining fifty yards to a nice -deep trench. On arrival, I inquire where Brigade H.Q. is, -and am directed to a communication trench, which I go -along and find myself at length in a square dugout with -no roof, in which are General Williams, busy at work with -a spade, Thomson, Farmer, and Reave. Concluding my -business, and being instructed that the little ruined house -in front of Pink Farm is to be the dump for rations, I -say good-bye. Thomson says, “Now, Gillam, run like -a bunny,” but, those bullets being a bit free at present -over the trenches, I follow my own route back and walk -along the hindmost trench, which I am told leads to a -nullah which goes back in the direction of Pink Farm.</p> - -<p>I pass Worcesters and Royal Scots in the trenches, and -finally the trench dips down to a wide open space under -cover, with a small brook running its course, out of which -two nullahs run. This, I am told, has been officially named -“Clapham Junction.” Unfortunately, a few shrapnel then -burst immediately over “Clapham Junction,” and I therefore -go to look for a waiting-room, refreshment-room, -or booking-office in which I can take cover until the rain -has stopped. I find a “refreshment-room” in the shape -of an advanced dressing station, and two officers there -very kindly give me breakfast. After breakfast I walk -along the nullah, which I learn is now to be called Krithia -Nullah, back towards the rear, and when the sound of -bullets pinging away overhead ceases, I step out on to a -newly made road, which is still under construction by the -Engineers, and then come across the Manchesters again -in a newly dug trench forming reserve lines. Walking -back to Pink Farm, I mount my mare and canter back -to the beach. Last night the Turks made a raid on -the part of the line held by the Lancashire Fusiliers, endeavouring -to capture a machine gun, but very soon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> -gave up the idea. They lost heavily and left six prisoners -behind.</p> - -<p>Supply depot for my Brigade alone now working smoothly. -We draw rations for the whole Division, men and horses, at -six o’clock each morning by G.S. wagons. This takes two -hours, during which the rations are carted from the Main -Supply depot some three hundred yards inland from our -depots at the back of “W” Beach, and sorted out to -each of the three Brigade depots and the Divisional artillery -depot. Breakfast at eight, and at 9.30 I go to my depot -again and issue the rations to my units, meeting the Q.M.’s -who have arrived with their transport. Receipts for the -rations are then given me by the Q.M.’s, who cart them -away to their own lines, where their first-line transport -is encamped only a distance of three to five hundred yards -away on the other side of the beach. At night they are -taken up to the various ration dumps, and from there taken -the rest of the way to the trenches either by hand or on -pack-mules. At the forward ration dumps the work of -redistribution is carried on under a continual flight of spent -and “over” bullets, and standing there one is in constant -danger of stopping one. Up to now several casualties -have been caused, but mostly slight wounds. After five -minutes one becomes quite used to the singing of the bullets, -which sound quite harmless. It is only when an extra -burst of fire breaks out that it is necessary to get into a -trench or behind some sheltering cover. I ride up in the -afternoon to Brigade H.Q., who have now dug themselves -into a dry watercourse just in front of Pink Farm. I -see General Williams and Thomson. Afterwards I walk -up to the trenches where the Worcesters are, up beyond -Church Farm, and across that open space. At Church -Farm I am told that at this side of the building I am out -of aiming distance from a rifle, and can only be hit by an -“over,” but that at the other side of the building I come -under range, and that it is not wise to loiter in that -neighbourhood.</p> - -<p>I therefore get across the three hundred yards of open -space as quickly as possible, and vaulting into the safety -of the trench, I inquire where Battalion H.Q. is, and following<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> -the direction given, pass along nice deep trenches with -sand-bagged parapets. Trench warfare in dead earnest -has now begun, and for the first time I realize what it is -like: an underground world, yet not an underground, for -one can see grass, flowers, and trees growing, but only close -to. Walking from Church Farm to the trenches, I see -nothing but lovely country leading up to frowning Achi -Baba, and near by, in front, rows and rows of thrown-up -earth. No sign of animal life of any kind. Yet once in -the trenches I found myself in a world alive with energy—men -cleaning rifles, writing letters, washing clothes, making -dugouts, laying cables. I pass dugouts, little rooms of -earth dug out of the side of the trench; some are cookhouses, -some officers’ bedrooms, some messes, and some -orderly-rooms, with tables and chairs. All this world has -been created underground, and unseen by the enemy, only -a few hundred yards away, in the space of a few weeks; -and this is trench warfare, materialized by spade and shovel, -by hundreds of strong arms, night and day. I come at -last to H.Q. Worcester Battalion, and am directed to the -mess—a nice dugout roofed in by timber. Major Lang is -sitting at a table reading letters from home. I ask for -letters for Captain Bush; am told they have been -sent down to the beach by an orderly; am offered -a drink, talk about the heat, which is getting tiresome -now, and hear that soon we are to be served out with -pith helmets. I say good-bye and start back. I am in -a maze, and have to be directed back to the trench that -I jumped into. I vault out and, zigzagging, jog-trot, for I -am told to go quickly back to Church Farm, and hear -two bullets singing their faint song far away over my head. -I come to a nullah, where I find horses and mules in dug-in -stables in charge of Roberts, Brigade Transport Officer, -just in front of the little ruined house in front of our Brigade -H.Q., and arriving there, hear that Thomson has gone -back to Hill 138 with the Brigadier. I go back to Pink -Farm, mount my mare, and cantering along the West -Krithia road, catch them up. On either side of the road -are now dug rest trenches, organized as camps—the trenches -not as deep as the front trenches, but sufficiently so to keep -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -the men under cover. I trot along the road through one -of these camps, and am soon pulled up by an M.P. with -the sharp order, “No trotting, please.”</p> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_092a"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_092a_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_092a_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">29TH DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS, GULLY BEACH, AT THE FOOT OF THE GULLY, -HELLES.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_092b"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_092b_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_092b_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">VIEW OF “V” BEACH, CAPE HELLES, TAKEN FROM THE <i>RIVER CLYDE</i>.</p> - - <p class="noindent center x-small">Sed-el-Bahr is to the immediate right of the beach, not in the photograph.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p>I ride with Thomson to “V” Beach and the <i>River -Clyde</i> comes in sight, seen from the high ground near the -lighthouse, which was the Turkish position on April 25th. -I hear from him the events of that awful day. How, when -the General and Costaker were hit, he was ordered to go -back to the <i>Clyde</i> and to take Reave. How he was on one -end of the hopper, lying down, and Reave the other, and -had to attract his attention and call to him to follow. Then -they had to get back over dead bodies and the wounded -under a hail of bullets, which zipped overhead or crashed -against the hopper and sides of the <i>Clyde</i> with a loud bang. -He described the scenes on board the <i>Clyde</i>, and the cries -of wounded; the arrival of messages on steam pinnaces, -signallers at work semaphoring to battleships and transports. -And there lay the <i>River Clyde</i>, now a haven of rest, -with a solid pier built out from shore and alongside it, -using its hulk as a harbour. “V” Beach, now a model -of an orderly advanced base, under the organizing talent -of the French, looked a different place to the “V” Beach -that I saw last. We search for Costaker’s grave without -success. Two huge graves are on the right of the beach -looking seawards—the graves of those soldiers and sailors -whose bodies I saw laid out for burial on April 27th, wired -round, and with fine crosses erected on each. I ride back -with him through the village, past the camp of the amusing -Senegalese, and along the new road that leads to “Clapham -Junction.” On either side rest camps have developed, -composed of lines of trenches and dugouts, sheltered in -trees and bushes.</p> - -<p>I see several batteries of “75’s,” and one is in action.</p> - -<p>Down a slope through trees, and over little nullahs -covered with growing gorse-bush, over meadowland past -the site of our old Brigade H.Q., till when within sight of -our new H.Q. we come into uninterrupted view of Achi -Baba, and Thomson then says we had better trot. On -arrival, tea is ready, and a new cake has arrived. It -had taken three weeks to come out, and yet tasted quite<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> -fresh. We have tea in the open, at the bottom of the dry -brook, and afterwards I take my departure. On return -to “W” Beach, over comes a big shell, and immediately -all work is stopped, and one and all, General and private, -make for cover. Drivers rush to their lines and untie -their mules and horses, and trot, canter, and gallop to the -safety of the shore at the foot of the cliffs right and left -of the beach. We wait beneath the friendly, sheltering -cliffs, and hear the swishing shrieks as the shells hurtle -through the air, bursting on the beach and on the higher -ground. Then, as one shriek does not end with the crash -of an explosion and its noise continues, we look at each -other with a certain amount of apprehension, until with -a fearful rending it sweeps down on to us, helplessly taking -cover on the steep sides of the cliff, and crashes with a -deafening roar almost at our feet, as it seems, but really -fifty yards away. Immediately there is a rush to more -sheltered ground half-way up the cliff, and three forms -are seen lying helplessly in the road. One is my staff-sergeant, -with a scalp wound and badly shaken, and two -are dead, mangled beyond description. Thank the Lord, -my staff’s wound is not serious. Well, he is for Blighty -now, and good luck to him!</p> - -<p>We find the animals—mules and horses—have been -strafed rather badly. The lines that they are on are in -very exposed positions as far as shell fire is concerned, -and it was not possible to get many away, and in consequence -the casualties among the poor helpless creatures -were serious. Hyslop, our Vet., dispatched all that he -could on their last journey with one pull on his revolver, -pressed to their foreheads. As a pause came in the shelling, -so he rushed out from his dugout and finished off those -which were wounded beyond cure, going about the horrid -task coolly and methodically, at intervals, being forced to -rush for cover to save his own skin, but ever ready, when -chance offered, to go back to his merciful task. Though -we have been on this Peninsula but a few weeks, the Veterinary -Services are efficient beyond praise, and the cases -of all animal patients, suffering from the smallest ailments -to the most serious of wounds, are dealt with by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> -Veterinary Officers with the same care as the Medical Corps -bestows on human patients.</p> - -<p>Looking back on the episodes that occur when the beach -is subjected to shell fire, with the fear of getting hit oneself -removed temporarily, the humour of them enters -into our thoughts and conversation. What So-and-so -looked like when he slid down the cliffs. “Did you see -Colonel —— dive behind those boxes, or the R.E. General -competing in a fifty yards’ sprint with his batman?” -If it were possible to record on a cinema film these scenes -that are instantaneously caused by the arrival of big shells, -without recording the bursting of a shell or the occurrence -of casualties, then a film could be produced which would -rival in knockabout comedy any film of Charlie Chaplin’s. -The French have been fighting this afternoon, and the -“75’s” banging away for all they are worth. A very -big battle has been going on on the right. Perhaps this -is why we have been given a taste of shelling.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 19th.</i></h3> - -<p>I hear that General D’Amade has gone home, which -we all regret. He was very gallant and brave, and was -continually with his troops in the trenches. Big gun not -very active to-day, thank Heaven. A couple came over, -however, while Gregory and I were walking down to the -beach. We both dived flat on the ground behind an S.A. -ammunition-box—really no protection at all, but any -cover is better than none. I got behind Gregory when -we fell flat, as his “tummy,” being nice and large, made -extra cover for me. I admit I considered only myself -at the moment and not Gregory, and the temptation of -taking shelter behind his massive form was one that on -the instant I could not resist. I told him this, and he -got very annoyed with me.</p> - -<p>“W” Beach has now been officially named Lancashire -Landing, after the Lancashire Fusiliers, who took the -beach on the 25th of last month.</p> - -<p>The Gurkhas in their last scrap of a few days ago took -an important bluff on the left of Krithia, overlooking the -sea, and this bluff has now been called Gurkha Bluff.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span></p> - -<p>Just heard that one of our submarines has been up the -Sea of Marmora. Not coming back for twenty-one days, -it was given up for lost, but reported back safe and sound -to-day, having sunk two Turkish destroyers and three -Turkish transports. Commander awarded the V.C.</p> - -<p>Aeroplanes very active now; tried to get a flight to-day, -but failed. They go back to Tenedos each night, and come -sailing over the sea back here after breakfast. It is too -dangerous for the machines to remain on at the aerodrome -here, on account of shell fire.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 20th.</i></h3> - -<p>Brilliant weather once more. It gets frightfully hot -now in the middle of the day. After lunch, had a delightful -bathe, and then went to Brigade H.Q. in centre of -position. All quiet there, but French made ground to-day -on right. French now doing excellent work. At Gaba -Tepe, Australians heavily attacked last night by Turks -in great force, supported by artillery, including 92 -gun. Attack under personal command of Von Sanders. -Australians hold their own, the enemy losing heavily, -leaving heaps of dead on the field. They come on in -the German massed formation, yelling “Allah!” and are -literally mown down. I prophesy that Dardanelles will -be open by June 30th, if not before.</p> - -<p>Hear that they now have a Coalition Government at -home.</p> - -<p>We now have issued to us regularly in print one sheet -containing “wireless news” and local news. The sheet -is called the <i>Peninsula Press</i>. At times it endeavours to -become amusing at the expense of the Turk, but it falls -rather flat.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 23rd.</i></h3> - -<p>This afternoon I walk over with Jennings, Phillips, -Williams, and Way to find Major Costaker’s grave, as -there is some doubt as to where he has been buried. We -had difficulty in passing through Sed-el-Bahr, as the French -are very strict about others than French passing through, -but an Australian military policeman came to our rescue<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> -and passed us through. The French have the advantage -in having Sed-el-Bahr, for amongst the ruined houses are -several untouched by shell fire, in which they are enabled -to make very comfortable quarters. But the best quarters -of all are in the large fort which looks over the Straits. -The other fort that I have referred to stands back from -the beach, on the right-hand side looking seawards. We -have our photographs taken, sitting on the muzzle of one -of the big Turkish guns at this latter fort; also, to the -huge delight of the Senegalese, we take some photographs -of their camp, and one of them insists on my being in the -group. We meet with no success in finding Major -Costaker’s grave, and I can only conclude that he is buried -in one of the two large graves down on the beach marked -“Gallant dead of the Dublins and Munsters and others.”</p> - -<p>On the way back we sit for a while in front of Hill 138 -and have a long look at the beautiful country lying between -us and Achi Baba. Through glasses we notice some precipitous -slopes in front of Achi Baba, and wonder how long -the day will be before our troops will be storming them. -Not a sign of the enemy can be seen: just now and then -little white puffs of shrapnel, now from our guns over -their lines, and now from theirs over ours. Now and again -the French “75’s” bark out, bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang—bang-bang. -About as rapid as a machine gun. -The F.O.O. (Forward Observation Officer) watches the -enemy as a cat does a mouse. Any sign of life in an enemy -trench, such as the sight of shovels appearing over the -parapet and earth being thrown up, a body of Turks moving -across the open behind their lines, or a new communication -trench that appears in course of construction, is immediately -telephoned to the battery commander at the guns, -and before it is possible to count sixty seconds, half a -dozen shells burst near or on the target. No target appears -too small or too insignificant for them, and ammunition -is plentiful. A great pile of shells in boxes is tidily stacked -against the walls of Sed-el-Bahr fort, and the stack steadily -grows. We are not in the same fortunate position with -our ammunition.</p> - -<p>On April 27th, when I was at “V” Beach, I saw a “75”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> -battery being hauled up from the shore. I was standing -amongst some French soldiers, and one standing next to me -turned to me and pointed to the guns, saying “Soixante-quinze, -bon—eh?” He looked upon them with pleasure -and almost awe. Then I did not appreciate their immense -worth, but now I do. We strolled back in the evening, -had a peaceful dinner, and at night, but for fitful bursts -of rifle fire, all was quiet. Mowatt, my friend of Birmingham -days, looks in to have a chat, but his conversation is -rather depressing to us all.</p> - -<p>If his theories are right, then we are stuck here in front -of Achi till the end of the war—or driven into the sea. A -listener to one of his arguments puts forward the theory -that if we had effected a landing at the Bulair Lines, the -Peninsula, being cut off from Turkey in Europe, would -automatically have fallen into our hands; but that theory -is immediately exploded by the knowledge of the fact that -at present Chanak, on the Asiatic side, is the main source -of supply, via Maidos on the Peninsula separated as they -are from each other by under a mile of the water of the -Straits, easily crossed by regular ferries. From Chanak -we believe that the enemy receives nearly all his ammunition, -stores, supplies, and reinforcements, which are -ferried to Maidos and transported from there by pack-mules -to their army on the Hill. We have seen convoys -of pack-mules now and again on the slopes of Achi Baba, -but they seldom show themselves, for fear of the heavy -shells from the guns of the Fleet. But they must swarm -over each night.</p> - -<p>Mowatt says that if an army of ours landed at the Lines -of Bulair, it would be flanked on either side by Turkish -armies, one on the Peninsula and one on the mainland. -Both these armies would be kept in the field by plentiful -and safe sources of supply, and our army would quickly -find itself in an ever-tightening vice, rendering it in a short -time impotent. He argues that once it had been decided -to land on the Peninsula we landed at the right place, -but that the success of taking the hill might have fallen -to our armies if the Australians had landed where the -29th landed, namely at Helles, on the tip of the Peninsula,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> -and if the 29th had landed up the coast behind Achi, where -the Australians had landed. The 29th, being a more tried -and disciplined machine, would have conquered its way -to Maidos, forming a line of steel behind the small Turkish -Army (we are told its strength was about 30,000 men on -April 25th), and this Turkish Army, being cut off in rear, -would have fallen a victim to the oncoming gallant -and all-conquering Australians and New Zealanders. The -fall of Constantinople would not have been far off, the -Straits would have been opened to the Allied Fleets. -Another theory is that a landing could then have been -effected at Alexandretta, north of Syria, and a march from -there could have been made by a strong and overwhelming -army of French and British to the gates of Bagdad, and -that after the fall of Bagdad we should have been able -to link up with the Russian Army. Then there would -follow a sweep through Asia Minor to the coast of the -Marmora and shores of the Dardanelles, the Fleet would -dash up the Narrows to the Golden Horn, and, as the Arabs -say, “Turkey mafisch.”</p> - -<p>Mowatt appears to have studied the question logically, -but it is the Staff’s job to think these things out and ours -to do our job in our humble way.</p> - -<p>However, he depresses us, and I shall have to go and -have a chat to those Naval optimists again.</p> - -<p>Sed-el-Bahr is a mass of ruins now, but, however ruined a -village may be, one can always picture to a certain extent -what it was like in its lifetime. Sed-el-Bahr must have -been a very charming place before the bombardment, -with its ancient fifteenth-century houses, orchards, and -gardens. The fort, evidently fifteenth or sixteenth century, -is a very picturesque and massive building, having spacious -chambers with the roofs going up in a dome shape—more -egg shape though, than dome—made of solid masonry, four -or five feet thick. The walls also are just as thick, but -the guns of the <i>Queen Elizabeth</i> simply smashed through -them like butter.</p> - -<p>It is wonderful how the country in our possession to -date has changed. Roads are being made everywhere. -Pipes lead from wells to troughs. Piers run out from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> -beaches. Sides of cliffs have little dugouts and little -houses and terraces, with names given them, such as “Sea -View” and “Lancaster Terrace,” such names being officially -recognized. Also camps and horse lines are everywhere. -Big gun has been shelling “V” Beach to-day; “Y” -Beach is now known as Gurkha Beach.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 24th.</i></h3> - -<p>Perfect day after ten; very heavy rain earlier. My -job to draw supplies from Main Supply depot for Division. -Rotten job, which starts at six. Brigade not moved.</p> - -<p>Hear that Italy has definitely come in. This closes a -channel of supplies into Austria and Germany, and is bound -to tell in a few months.</p> - -<p>Japanese bomb shells experimented with in Australian -trenches at Gaba Tepe. They are fired by a trench mortar -and have a range of four hundred yards. They have a -small propeller to keep them straight, and explode with -great violence, blowing trench to bits.</p> - -<p>The first one tried fell beautifully in a Turkish trench at -two hundred yards’ range, and exploded with great violence. -Turks started kicking up a fearful row, and about fifty -rushed out like a lot of hornets. Machine gun turned on -them and scotched the lot. Great request now on our part -for Japanese bomb shells.</p> - -<p>News now arrives that two submarines from Germany -have got into the Mediterranean through the Straits of -Gibraltar, and that they are making for this part of the -world as hard as they can go. Most of the Fleet and -transports in consequence move off at nightfall for Lemnos -Harbour, off the village of Mudros, where our transports -concentrated before the landing. Looking out to sea -from the beach, the feeling of loneliness engendered by the -departure of the shipping is curious—yesterday I looked -seawards and the ocean was dotted with warships, transports, -etc., pinnaces darted to and fro, all was hurry and -bustle, during which one had a comfortable feeling that -at our backs were our Naval comrades, ready to help at -a moment’s notice; now, less than half the shipping lies -off the coast than did a week ago, and a feeling of loneliness, -almost of fear, comes over me.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span></p> - -<p>Hindu as well as Sudanese labourers now working on -the beach. All the time that they are carrying anything -on a cart, with six pushing, one of them, evidently in -authority, walks alongside laughing and gesticulating, -singing something in a Gregorian chant, to which the others -answer by singing three words in a monotone. This goes -on all the time and causes much amusement to the Tommies, -who of course imitate, whereupon the coolies laugh and -sing all the louder.</p> - -<p>We have now built a bivouac of boxes on the cliff edge, -the right side of the beach looking towards the sea, and -from there we obtain a fine view of the scenes on the -beach and the road below at the foot of the cliff, which -is gradually being widened, built up, and extended round -to “X” Beach.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 25th.</i></h3> - -<p>Woke up in our new “bivvy” this morning. It is very -nice up here now, overlooking Imbros. From my bed I -see the <i>Swiftsure</i> fire a shot into the water. I get up at -once, and looking through my glasses, see her fire another, -this time between the <i>Agamemnon</i>, which is moored close -by, and herself. Torpedo destroyer comes dashing up, -and immediately makes big circles round the two ships. -A tiny little pinnace slips out with only four sailors on it, -and rushes round and round the <i>Swiftsure</i> like a little pup -defending its mother. A bugle sounds several times, and -men in white swarm out from all kinds of places and stand -to stations on the decks.</p> - -<p>A submarine has been sighted right among our shipping; -it had darted like an evil fish between the <i>Swiftsure</i> and -the <i>Agamemnon</i>, and the <i>Swiftsure</i> had kept it off.</p> - -<p>At one o’clock news arrives that H.M.S. <i>Triumph</i> has -been torpedoed off the Australian landing at Gabe Tepe, -and it is a terrible shock to us all, coming as it has so soon -after the sinking of the <i>Goliath</i>. A good many lives were -saved—nearly all the crew. No doubt it was hit by the -same submarine that attempted to finish off the <i>Swiftsure</i> -and <i>Agamemnon</i> this morning. We are all naturally -anxious at further developments.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span></p> - -<p>A Turkish battery is shelling the aerodrome on the east -side of “W” Beach. Some very good practice is made -and one machine is damaged.</p> - -<p>This afternoon the same thing starts, and one shell pitches -into the sea. If they move their gun five degrees right, -they have the range of our “bivvy” nicely.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 26th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is another perfect day, and it is absolutely ideal at -our “bivvy” on the cliffs overlooking the south-west -tip of the Peninsula. The sea is perfect, yet while -admiring the view we hear the old familiar whistle of a -shell, and one comes right over us, “plonk” into the sea. -Another soon follows, and we have to go beneath the -cliffs, and our aspect of the peaceful view is immediately -changed. Shelling lasts half an hour, and after lunch we -can come back.</p> - -<p>Go up to Brigade H.Q. this morning, and find that South -Lancashire Division have been merged with the 29th -Division. Laird, quite fit and chirpy as usual, in a topping -little dugout near by. Reinforcements arrive to-day, and -I show them the way up. One chap asks if there is a -chance of his getting into the firing-line. I answer that -he will be in the firing-line in half an hour, and, poor chap! -he looks queerly at me. He will get used to it, though, -in a day. He asked the question as if to show that he -was longing, after months of training and waiting, to get -there, but had rather a shock when he found it was -so near.</p> - -<p>Flies, ordinary houseflies, are beginning to be awful -pests here, simply myriads of them. People in England -do not know what a fly pest is. They make a continual -hum as they fly round, there are so many of them. One -of our officers named Jennings gets very annoyed with them, -and when trying to get a sleep in his dugout of an afternoon, -has a few minutes’ indulgence in Hate, not against -Germany, but against the flies, murmuring to himself -“Gott strafe the flies!” over and over again.</p> - -<p>Ritchie, my old H.A.C. pal of the Goring days, who -was on the <i>Arcadian</i>, turns up at Supply depot and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> -invites me to dinner in the near future. It does not seem -so very long ago that we were having a pigeon-pie dinner -in our barn at Stoke-on-Thames, when we were both gunners -in the H.A.C.</p> - -<p>Late in the afternoon shells come whistling over our -bivouac once more, well overhead, and burst in the sea -near to Supply ships. About fifteen come over, and the -transports weigh anchor and clear out of the way, taking -up moorings again behind the <i>Majestic</i>, which is lying -about a thousand yards off the centre of “W” Beach. -Evidently the Turks are being “spotted” for at Yen-i-Shehr, -where no doubt they have many observation posts -which are in telephonic communication with Chanak, further -up the Straits, which in turn is in telephonic communication -with Turkish H.Q. on Achi. What more ideal -conditions for laying their guns could be wished for? It -is fortunate for us that their artillery and ammunition are -scarce. Were the full complement of artillery against us -that the Germans would provide to an army of the same -strength as that of the Turks, I think that we should, -as things have developed now, pack up and be off within -one week, and not even the dear little “75’s” could -save us.</p> - -<p>The field bakery is in working order now, in a little gully -further up the coast, and we are having most excellent -bread each day—not a full ration, about 40 per cent. being -made up by the biscuits.</p> - -<p>It consists of three Bakery Detachments of six Bakery -Sections each, a total of twenty-four ovens, and is capable -of making bread for sixty thousand men. The ovens are -made of curved metal; the troughs are in a large marquee, -where all the mixing of the flour and ferments is done. -The bread supplied on the whole is good, but of course, -under the conditions in which the men are working it is -difficult to turn out bread of the quality that one expects -in London. Baking goes on practically the whole of the -twenty-four hours. The whole bakery is under cover, and -cannot be seen in any way by the Turk, though the gully -in which it has been placed can be shelled, should the -Turk become aware of its presence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span></p> - -<p>I dine with Ritchie at 7.30 p.m. in his dugout under -our cliff, between our position and the bakery. Five other -officers are there; amongst them is Major Huskisson a -charming “Gypy” Army A.S.C. man, who is in charge -of the Main Supply depot here, and also a man who was -in the <i>River Clyde</i> at the landing and who saw Colonel -Carrington-Smith killed. Ritchie is O.C. a Labour Corps, -camped on the side of the cliff around his dugout. We -play bridge after dinner, and I actually have a whisky. -First game of bridge I have had since we landed, and it -is weird playing in such surroundings. Outside, a perfect -moonlight night.</p> - -<p>Elsewhere I have mentioned the Isle of Imbros by night. -But really it is next to impossible to describe the beauty -of these Greek islands, unless one is a poet or a painter. -To my mind, Imbros is the most beautiful of any of the isles -in reach of the Peninsula. But to-night, as it seemed, she -surpassed herself in beauty. The sea lies like a sheet of -liquid silver under the rays of the moon. There, like a -precious gem, lies Imbros, sleeping on the face of the waters; -her deep valleys and gorges, running down to the sea, -are aswim with purple shadows, and her rugged mountain -crests stand out violet and clear-cut against the star-spangled -velvet of the skies. Her feet are wrapt about -as with a snowy drapery, woven of the little foaming crests -of lazy wavelets lapping around her. From behind her the -feathery night clouds appear to swathe themselves about -her, and her mountain peaks seem like a coronet set upon -the dusky brow of some beautiful goddess of the night. -All is silent, and she sleeps peacefully upon the waters, -awaiting the coming of the fiery god of the morning, who, -dashing across the sky in his chariot of flame, will awaken -her with a burning kiss—driving the purple shadows from -her valleys and filling them with a swimming golden glory -which shall make her seem even more lovely by day than -by night. Truly is she a goddess upon the waters, a -rival almost of Aphrodite herself.</p> - -<p>As I go back to bed, walking back along the foot of the -cliff, rifle fire is rattling away on our left. I climb up to our -“bivvy,” being challenged several times, and turn into bed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>May 27th.</i></h3> - -<p>Woke at 6.30 this morning, feeling very refreshed, and -find it is a beautiful morning. The view is perfect from -our biscuit-box “bivvy.”</p> - -<p>I am just drowsily thinking about getting up, when a -gun from H.M.S. <i>Majestic</i> fires. This is followed immediately -by the report of an explosion, and Carver says, “Good -Lord, she is torpedoed!” We rush out, and see the green -smooth wake of a torpedo in a straight line horizontal -with our “bivvy,” starting from a point immediately in -front of us. H.M.S. <i>Majestic</i> is about eight hundred yards -to our left, immediately in front of “W” Beach, and I -see her, massive and strong, bristling with guns, and -crowded with men in white, slowly tilting over with a -list to her port side. Men are doubling on deck to their -places in perfect order, with no shouting or panic. Then, -evidently, the order “Every man for himself!” is given, -for I see a figure leap into the water, making a big splash; -then another and another—it is like jumping off the side -of a house—until the sea around is dotted by bobbing -heads of men swimming. Slowly she tilts over, and men -clamber on to the side above the torpedo nets, which are -out. As many as possible get away from the nets, for -they make a trap. By this time, after only four minutes, -she is surrounded by destroyers, trawlers, pinnaces, and -small boats, and with perfectly wonderful and amazing -efficiency they systematically pick up the struggling figures -in the water.</p> - -<p>One after the other men continue to leap, while the big -ship lists; yet there are some, amongst whom are several -officers, who stand on the side calmly waiting, and some -still on the platform above the torpedo-nets. My glasses -are glued on these men. I see them plainly in every detail, -and almost the expression on their faces, as they stand on -this platform with their hands behind them, holding on -to the side of the ship. I see an officer in the centre looking -anxiously to the right and the left, shouting directions. -A man at the end manages to clamber to his left and slides -painfully over pipe-stays and the usual fittings on the -side of a battleship, falling with an awkward thud in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> -water, and another and another follow him. Then, after -six minutes she begins to list quicker and quicker, and -the remaining men on the torpedo-net platform still hang -on. The nets curl up into themselves. These men are -now horizontal to the ship, for she is now well on her side. -The nets fling themselves into the air with a horrid curl, -and disappear from view with these brave officers and -men underneath. Can they dive and get free? The -emerald green of the keel-plates appears, and in two minutes -she turns turtle, her bows remaining highest and her stern -beneath water. As she turns, men run, slip, and slide -into the water, and at the finish, eight minutes after, her -bows are showing and about fifty feet of the bottom of -the ship above water at an angle.</p> - -<p>Finally, one man is left on the green, slippery keel, and -he, evidently not being able to swim, calmly takes his -jacket off, sits down, and, if you please, takes off his boots, -and walking slowly into the water, plunges in, having the -good fortune to grab a lifebuoy, and is hauled to a tug.</p> - -<p>The submarine has been spotted, and torpedo destroyers -give chase, circling round and round, but all signs of her -have disappeared. The destroyers, six in all, make bigger -and bigger sweeps, when the sound of firing is heard out -at sea, and about four miles to the east of Imbros I can -see a big French battleship going hell for leather towards -the island. She is firing astern, and immediately all six -destroyers put out to sea as fast as they can steam; the -French ship then fires an extra big shell astern, which -explodes with great violence in the water; the destroyers -coming up, she gives up firing and makes off to safety. -Later: No news as yet of the submarine, and we await -with a little anxiety further developments.</p> - -<p>The survivors coming ashore were looked after by the -Tommies, given new clothes, breakfast, and rum, and -seemed none the worse for their adventure. One said, -“This is the third —— time I have been sunk, and I’m -getting a bit fed-up.” One quickly becomes a philosopher -and fatalist on this Peninsula, and the fact that we are -all a tonic to each other keeps our spirits up.</p> - -<p>I hear that most of the crew are saved, including the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -Admiral and the Captain. About forty have lost their -lives, and I feel sure amongst this number are those unfortunate -brave men who stood calmly waiting for almost -certain and immediate death, or the bare chance of continuing -to live longer, on that trap of a torpedo-net -platform.</p> - -<p>I stroll down on the beach and talk to Naval officers -about the loss, but they appear as optimistic as ever—tell -me she was an old boat, of not much value nowadays, built -as long ago as 1894, and that when once Achi Baba is -taken the Fleet will get to work and make a dash up -the Straits.</p> - -<p>The scene is just the same this beautiful evening, but -instead of a dignified, strong battleship in our midst, there -remains her green bows, like the head of an enormous -whale, peeping out of the water.</p> - - -<h3><i>7 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Taube flies over, drops bomb; two men killed.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 28th.</i></h3> - -<p>Go up to Brigade H.Q. this morning. Delightful canter -along West Krithia road. I pass many camps, or rather -lines of trenches on either side of the road serving as camps. -Just at this time of the year crickets are very numerous. -It is difficult to spot them, but they make a sound with -their chirping not unlike the concerted song of a host of -sparrows. I notice it more particularly at Pink Farm in -the early morning, and sometimes at night on the cliffs -by the sea. I find that Brigade H.Q. have moved forward -a little to the left, and have dug nice quarters into the -side of a small hill. They were flooded out of their previous -Headquarters by a cloud burst—a curious phenomenon. -We did not feel it at all on the beaches, and yet a few miles -inland they experienced a veritable flood.</p> - - -<h3><i>5 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>I ride to Morto Bay across country through the -white pillars, and have a ripping bathe. It is a beautiful -spot, just up the Straits, three miles from the shores of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> -Asia, flanked on its left by high ground, on which is De -Tott’s Battery, and on its right by the high wooded ground -behind Sed-el-Bahr. Perfect bathing, all sand, and gently -sloping until one wades out of one’s depth. Plenty of -French troops bathing as well. All this side of the Peninsula -is in the hands of the French. As we are bathing, one -shell comes over from Achi and bursts near the white -pillars.</p> - - -<h3><i>7 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Arriving back at “W” Beach, I can see about -half a dozen destroyers bombarding a few villages on -Imbros for all they are worth. Lord! are we at war with -Greece now?</p> - - -<h3><i>May 29th.</i></h3> - -<p>A beautiful day, but there are no battleships lying off, -and but one or two Supply ships. The absence of shipping -makes a great contrast to the busy scenes amongst the -Fleet and transports of a week ago, and their absence has -a depressing effect on us all.</p> - -<p>Several destroyers are patrolling up and down the -coast, and from Asia to Imbros. All is quiet on the front. -But reinforcements steadily arrive, and a continued -steady stream of ordnance stores and supplies is unloaded -from the Supply ships into lighters, which are -then towed by small tugs to the piers, alongside which -they are made fast. There the stores are taken over by -R.E., Ordnance, or Supply Officers, who with groups -of labourers unload them from the lighters on to the -piers. Greek labour then handles the stores along the -piers to the beach, where they are dumped on the sand. -Then officers with clerks check the stores with the figures -stated on their vouchers, and Greeks load on to wagons -and mule-carts, which then drive off up the newly made -steep roads of the beach to the R.E. park, just half-way -up the beach, to the Ordnance depot on the cliff to the -right of the beach looking inland, or to the rapidly growing -Main Supply depot, which will soon make a splendid target<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> -for the Turkish gunners, on the high ground at the back -of the beach. At times we find that the Main Supply depot -is unable to satisfy all our indents, and in consequence we -have to go down on to the beach and draw from the piles -of supplies which have accumulated there faster than it -has been found possible to cart them away. But never -on any occasion do we find that our indents have to be -refused from both the Main Supply depot and the beach. -For the A.S.C. out here, where there are difficulties that -have never been experienced before in previous campaigns—such -as transporting by sea from Southampton or Alexandria, -over a sea rapidly becoming infested with submarines; -unloading into lighters off shore in a rough sea, -with the lighters bumping and tossing roughly against the -ships’ sides; towing the lighters alongside flimsy piers, -always under a constant work of construction or repair; -and finally the arduous work of man-handling from the -lighters to the beach, carting from the beach to the Main -depot and thence to trenches, guns, and camps, with a -daily ration of Turkish shells to dodge—are organizing -the feeding of the men in the trenches, the man at the gun, -and we behind, punctiliously as our troops are fed in France. -Whatever unforeseen difficulty arises, breakfast and the -succeeding daily meals are always ready at the scheduled -hours for General and private, officers’ chargers and mules. -One hitch, and our Army here may have to go on half -rations or no food at all.</p> - -<p>“An army moves on its stomach.” True, we are not -moving; but if our stomachs are not regularly and wisely -fed, we shall rapidly have to move, and then in the opposite -way to our objective.</p> - -<p>The A.S.C. officer who was at dinner at Ritchie’s the -other night is with me on the beach, and, as I walk with -him to the Main Supply depot, he contrasts the circumstances -here with those in France under which the A.S.C -works. Pointing to the pier and the stacks of supplies -on the beach, he says, “There you have your Havre and -base.” The wagons, limbers, and mule-carts are, he tells -me, the equivalent of the railway Supply pack-trains -running every day from Havre to the various railheads<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> -behind the lines. We arrive at the Main Supply depot, -and he says: “We are now at one of these railheads, but -hardly ever does a railhead in France get shelled, and -never one of them regularly and continually, as this one -will be when these stacks of biscuits grow a bit higher.” -Pointing to our Divisional depot of four little dumps, one -for each of our groups, just three hundred yards away -from us, he says: “There is your refilling point, usually -two miles or more from railhead, and then seldom under -shell fire.” In our case we are actually behind railhead. -An officer on duty at the Main Supply depot who has been -up to Anzac, as the landing of the Australians up the coast -is now called, joins in our conversation, and tells us that -actually on the beach at Anzac spent bullets continually -fly over from the enemy trenches, adding, “Fancy spent -bullets flying round the depot at Havre!”</p> - -<p>I ride up to Brigade H.Q. in the afternoon and have tea, -and am called on to supply them with the latest beach -rumours, which I glean each morning from our dump and -from our Naval officers on shore.</p> - -<p>Coming back, just in front of Pink Farm I stop at the -mess of the Royal Scots, who are in a trench camp. Their -mess is very well dug in, and I am surprised how comfortable -it has been made. They are very hospitable, and have -an overflowing larder of unheard-of luxuries in this land -of bare necessity. Old Steel, the Q.M., is there, and -presses “Turkish delight” on to me. As we sit talking, -shrapnel whizzes over and bursts behind us fifty yards -to our left, trying to get “L” Battery. I hear the account -of the part the Royal Scots had taken in the last little -scrap, and am told that one of their sergeants, who was -a man of good position in Edinburgh in civil life, was -found dead, lying with a semicircle of five dead Turks -around him, their heads smashed in with the butt-end -of his rifle. He must have come of a fighting stock, yet -never anticipated he would end his life on the battlefield.</p> - - -<h3><i>May 30th.</i></h3> - -<p>I am on duty at 6 a.m. at the Main Supply depot drawing -the day’s supplies to our Divisional dump. Each of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> -four Supply Officers takes it in turn, so that the duty falls -to me once in four days. It is a lovely fresh morning, -and after signing for the supplies I light a cigarette and -stroll back to my “bivvy” feeling ready for breakfast.</p> - -<p>I meet Milward on the way, who now lives in a tent -near the depot. He was our Naval Landing Officer on -the <i>Dongola</i> on April 25th, and is now one of the Naval -Landing Officers on the beach. He tells me that he is -about to go back to join his original ship, somewhere in -the North Sea; that he does not want to go a bit, and -this side of the war is far more interesting. He also says -that the piers are going to be constructed so as to be proof -against the bad weather that will come in the winter. -Ships will be sunk to form breakwaters. “The winter?” -I exclaim. “Heavens! we shall be in Constantinople -long before then; Achi will be ours by June 30th, and -then we have them at our mercy.”</p> - -<p>Milward says that it is wise, however, to be ready for -a winter. Winter? Lord! what a long time ahead it -seems!</p> - -<p>This afternoon I ride with Carver, Woodbridge, Foley, -and Tull, with orderlies, to Morto Bay, and on the way -have a delightful cross-country canter. I have difficulty, -though, in making my mare jump trenches. She jumped -hurdles at Warwick race-course like a bird. Had a delightful -bathe while the French Senegalese were doing likewise. -Absolutely coal-black figures, laughing and playing like -children. No firing from Asiatic side; their guns evidently -silenced by us. Only three miles across; most beautiful -view, with mountains and plains of Troy in the background. -This place will make a fine watering-place after the war -for some enterprising capitalist.</p> - -<p>In the background beautiful wooded country, with the -stately white pillars standing up, the whole place this -side of the pillars a large French camp. I like the French. -They are charming. What a difference this place is now -to what it was in those first few days, when we had to toil -up at night through the Turkish cemetery, past the croaking -frogs, with fears of snipers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>May 31st.</i></h3> - -<p>A perfect day. I ride up with Foley to my Brigade in -the morning, and there meet Captain Wood, the Adjutant of -the Essex, and dear old Ruby Revel, of the same regiment. -The messroom at Brigade H.Q., though dug in the side of -a small hill, is like a country summer-house, and this -morning it is very hard to realize that we are at war. -Crickets are chirping in the bushes, and pretty little -chaffinches with bright-coloured feathers hop about -amongst the trees.</p> - -<p>I look through a powerful telescope at the Turkish -trenches, and it seems almost as though I could throw -a stone at them. The precipitous slopes of Achi Baba -appear in vivid detail. As for the Turkish first line, I -feel that if I put my foot out I shall tread on its parapet. -Yet I see not a sign of life. And all is perfectly quiet. -I think that a big attack is coming off in a few days now, -and great preparations appear to be going on. Many -reinforcements have arrived, and we are almost up to full -strength again. In fact, several of those who were slightly -wounded on the first day have actually returned fit and -sound to the firing-line.</p> - -<p>Riding back, Foley and I call at his Brigade H.Q. and -see Major Lucas, the Brigade Major, and later Brigadier-General -Marshall comes in. Their H.Q., situated some -three hundred yards behind Pink Farm, but to the right, -looking towards Achi, is built in an even more beautiful -spot than the H.Q. of the 88th. In fact, it can only be -described as a most beautiful natural garden, and the -quarters are composed simply of summer-houses nestling -under trees, with flowers and meadow grass growing in -beautiful confusion all around. Bullets just fall short of -this spot, and shells do not drop near, for it is away from -any target.</p> - -<p>I call at the R.N.D. armoured car camp afterwards, -just half-way back between Pink Farm and the beach, -off the West Krithia road, to look up a friend that I hear -is with them, but learn that he has not yet landed. Four -armoured cars are dug in to what look like deep horse -stalls of earth—beautiful Rolls-Royce cars, and I hear<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> -that they are to go into action in the battle which is -thought to be coming off in a few days.</p> - - -<h3><i>2 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p class="b2">This afternoon it is so hot that I strip to the waist and -write on the cliff. A few transports are in. Mine-sweepers -in pairs, with little sails aft, are on duty at the entrance, -cruising slowly and methodically to and fro, joined to each -other by a sunken torpedo-net; and woe unto a submarine -that should run into that net! It will quickly meet with -an untimely end; its base will hear no more news of it, -and its destruction will be kept secret by the Navy. -Destroyers are on patrol right out to sea. One battleship -can just be seen far away towards Lemnos. Work on -the beach goes on steadily. Engineers are hard at work -constructing a new pier, which will serve as a breakwater -as well. Stones for this purpose are being quarried from -the side of the cliff. A light railway is in course of construction -round the beach and along the road at the foot -of this cliff and up to the depot.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="JUNE">JUNE</h2> - - -<h3><i>June 1st, 11.30.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">Rode</span> to H.Q., leaving my mare at Pink Farm, where -I met General Doran, our new Brigadier, with whom I -walked to H.Q. Coming back along West Krithia road, -met Mathias, Brigade Vet. Two shells whistle over us. -Mathias says, “Here comes a shell,” to which I reply, -“It’s come and gone, dear boy,” as they burst “plonk” in -the middle of the road that we have to pass along. We -make a detour and ride back over country.</p> - -<p>Four officers, just come from England, arrive and have -lunch with us.</p> - - -<h3><i>3 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Ride with Foley to Morto Bay for a bathe. Bay full -of French and Senegalese bathing. As we sat undressing, -one big, burly fellow came up to Foley and said, “Speak -English, how do you do?” and held out his hands. Foley -was so taken aback that he shook hands. He then turned -to me, and showing his teeth, said, “Tobacco.” Being -rather afraid that he was going to bite me, I quickly -took out my pouch and gave him a handful. Then a sergeant, -also a nigger, came running up, and ordered him -off, using most fearful language apparently, and away -he went, running like mad. They are fine-looking men. -Morto Bay looking very beautiful. I can imagine this -a fine watering-place, after the war, with promenade, -gardens, hotels, golf-links, etc.</p> - -<p>Achi Baba looked a beautiful bronze colour, with patches -of green. The Dardanelles show a deep blue colour, -gradually blending into the purple of the Asiatic side, -with its background of mountains. At the entrance, little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> -mine-sweepers are on duty. The beach is full of naked -black and white figures bathing, and the country in the -background is dotted with French camps. The firing-line -in the distance, and our guns popping off at intervals, -and enemy shells now and again whistling overhead—such -is the environment in which we have our bathe.</p> - -<p>Foley suggests riding back through Sed-el-Bahr, which -we do, and we were fortunate in doing so, as eight shells, -beautifully placed, exploded just over the road that we -otherwise should have taken, and at about the time that -we should have been passing along it.</p> - - -<h3><i>10.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Bit of the Turkish attack going on. Heavy rifle fire. -“75’s” very angry, and beating all known records of rapid -fire. Their song sings me to sleep. I am not afraid of -shells when I am sleeping.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 2nd.</i></h3> - -<p>After issue, go down on beach to our Train office, which -is now dug in the side of the cliff. It has twice been moved, -each time farther and farther round the cliff on the right -of the beach looking seawards. When shelling is on, our -Train office soon becomes full of passing officers, reminding -me of a crowded pavilion at a cricket match when rain -stops the play. Just as the pavilion empties as the rain -stops, so does our Train office when the shelling stops. -Then all the morning there calls a continual stream of -officers—R.E., Ordnance, Supply, Artillery, and regimental—presenting -their respective indents for transport, which -the Adjutant has difficulty with, in mathematically fitting -in the detailing of transport to satisfy their demands with -available wagons. It is a job that requires tact and -organization. Officers also call who come just to pass the -time of day and exchange rumours, or beach gossip as -we call it. The circulation of rumours is the best entertainment -that we have, and though 95 per cent. of them -are estranged from truth by a large margin, yet life would -be doubly as dull as it is without them. They are always -listened to with great interest, though, before they are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> -heard, listeners know they are going to be miles off the -target of truth. And if a man who has achieved a reputation -for carrying with him the latest and most interesting -“beach gossip” fails any morning in producing any, he -causes really keen disappointment.</p> - -<p>This morning we hear that the Turks are starved, -have no clothes, are almost at the last gasp for ammunition, -and only require one more hard knock before they retreat -precipitously to lines which they have prepared well -beyond the slopes on the other side of Achi Baba. The -Navy then tell us that once Achi is in our hands we command -the Narrows; Chanak Fort will be shelled to a pile of -bricks and stones, the Fleet will make a dash up the Straits -into the Marmora, and will arrive before Constantinople -in three days. After a heavy bombardment of this city, -the goal of our ambitions, we will attack the Turkish Army, -now starved and demoralized beyond recovery. They will -be beaten and will make unconditional surrender; the -Peninsula will be ours, the Dardanelles will be open, Russia -and the Allies will link hands, and the war will end six -months after in glorious victory for our cause and confusion -to our enemies.</p> - -<p>We drink in minor rumours day by day that are given -as irrefutable evidence in support of these prophecies; -we are buoyed up in hope and spirits thereby, and ourselves -spread the rumours to those of our friends who still -remain pessimistic.</p> - -<p>I go up to the Main Supply depot, and there, having by -now been given a reputation for carrying good and juicy -rumours, I cheer them up by the news that Achi will be -ours by June 30th. Smart, one of the officers there, who -was in the retreat from Mons, makes me a bet, and the -stake is a nice ruler that he has on his desk. I promptly -book the bet. I go up to Brigade and have tea, and supply -them with the latest rumours.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 3rd.</i></h3> - -<p>It is very windy to-day, and is blowing nearly a gale, -and wind on the tip of this peninsula is an unpleasant -element to be up against. In consequence, the beach is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -smothered with dust, and clouds of it fly in all directions, -covering everybody and everything.</p> - -<p>While issuing, shells burst on the crest of the high -ground at the back of the beach steadily all the time, -and nearer inland puffs of shrapnel are visible. They -cannot reach us here with shrapnel, thank goodness! -Shrapnel is so comprehensive. A lucky shell comes to -within ten yards of our depot, kills a man, a passer-by, -outright, wounds a sailor, and slightly wounds my butcher -in the knee.</p> - -<p>I ride up to Brigade with Phillips. General Doran shows -us map of our objective, and carefully marks thereon -where rations are to be dumped to-morrow night, for -to-morrow is to be the day of an attack upon our part to -take Achi. If successful, then the beginning of the end -of the show will be in sight. No news from outside -world, and a great scarcity of papers. Reading a paper -about a month old is now a great luxury.</p> - -<p>In the evening, Williams and Phillips and myself borrow -a boat from an M.L.O. and have a short row round. It -makes splendid exercise, and the scenes on shore are -very interesting. Why did not we think of it before? -When they shell the beach, all we have to do is to get -into a boat and row out to sea, and then watch the fun. -Surely a submarine would not trouble to torpedo us, and -it would be a shell with our name and address on that -would hit us. We pass a submarine—British—marked -B9, a very small one. An officer is in the conning tower -and says “Good evening” to us. We chat, and he invites -us on board. Two sailors hold our little boat while we -clumsily climb on to the submarine’s slippery back. We -climb down a perpendicular iron ladder through a hole -not much larger than a coal-shoot to a cellar under a -street. Inside we find only one chamber, awfully cramped -and small. At one end of this sleep the men, and at the -other two officers. The chamber provides quarters for -men and officers alike, and engine-room, ward-room, and -ante-room, all in one, like Dan Leno’s one-roomed house. -In Dan Leno’s words, “If you want to go into the drawing-room—you -stay where you are!” I am shown the working<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> -of the engines, and try to look wisely at the intricate host -of levers and brass things, but really can understand -nothing at all of what the officer is talking about. I am -shown how a torpedo is fired. You pull a thing out and -she shoots. Phillips appears to know all about it though, -but he doesn’t really. I look through the periscope, -turn the lens round, and suddenly before my eyes I -see “V” Beach and Sed-el-Bahr in vivid detail. What -joy it must be to spot a Hun battleship and see her -effectively hit!</p> - -<p>The officer then invites us to sit down and call for drinks. -I gasp; we never heard of such things on shore. An -attentive A.B., smiling benevolently, brings along about half -a dozen bottles and glasses. The officer apologizes for not -having much choice. Is he pulling our legs? What perfectly -charming beings these Naval fellows are! I choose -sherry. Williams gets chatty about the Middlesex Yeomanry. -The Middlesex Yeomanry always comes into Williams’s -conversation when he gets chatty, but I can’t connect -this regiment with submarines at the moment. I have -two glasses, and we rise to go. Our perfectly delightful -host expresses regret that we must go, and invites us -again in the near future. Up the perpendicular iron steps -we climb. Phillips, leading, puts his heavy boot in my -face. It seems a long way up those steps. Up in the -cool air, with the breeze blowing in my face, the deck -of the submarine seems much narrower than when we -first came on board. I look at the little boat gently heaving -in the water alongside, and take one cautious step on to -one of its seats, and with one foot in the boat and one -on the submarine I turn to thank my host again. The -little boat falls with the swell of the sea, and I promptly -sit down very hard into her. All aboard, we row back -merrily. Hear that two shells have arrived on the beach -during our absence. Shells! Pugh! that’s nothing. We -don’t worry about shells, now!</p> - -<p>I swear that I had only two sherries; but I am -very empty inside, and the cool air, after a stuffy -atmosphere—— Yes! even a Padre might feel like -that.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>June 4th.</i></h3> - -<p>I awake and rise early. To-day is the battle, and to-night -we shall be probably feeding our troops in or -beyond Krithia. To-day will probably be a great day -for our arms.</p> - -<p>I get my issuing over early, and ride up to Brigade H.Q. -and see Usher, asking him if he has any further instructions. -All the arrangements are complete, and I hope that I -shall have to take the rations up to or beyond Krithia, -for then we shall have tasted complete victory. I see -General Doran, who is hard at work. Two officers of the -Egyptian Army arrive and talk awhile with me. I learn -that they have landed only this morning. They are dressed -very smartly; polished Sam Brown, revolver, smart -tunic and breeches and boots, but I think they are making -a mistake. They look like the pictures of a military -tailor’s advertisement. Most officers of the infantry dress -like the men, to lessen the chances of an enemy sniper -getting them. I get back to “W” Beach at 10.30 a.m. -and see the <i>Implacable</i> and <i>Albion</i> coming slowly in, with -destroyers and submarines all around each ship, jealously -guarding them from submarines’ attacks. A French battleship, -I think the <i>Saint-Louis</i>, is off “V” Beach. Destroyers -are on the patrol, as usual, searching for the dreaded -submarine enemy. Three hospital ships are now in.</p> - - -<h3><i>11 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The French “75’s” start the music, bursting out into a -roar of anger. Shortly after, all our shore batteries join -in, and the 60-pounders make our ears feel as if they would -burst until we get used to it. The bombardment increases; -the battleships and destroyers now join in with all their -guns. The noise is infernal, after the quiet that we have -been used to. I go up to the high ground at the back of -“W” Beach, lie down in a trench, and watch the show -through strong glasses. Only a few are with me in the -trench. Next to me is Beetleheimer, our <i>liaison</i> officer. -He speaks Turkish like a native, and is a very charming -and decent old boy. Tremendous shelling now going on, -and it seems to grow more and more intense—hundreds<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -of shells bursting along the Turkish positions. Turkish -artillery replies furiously, mostly with shrapnel, all along -our trenches. No shells come on the beaches. Hundreds -of white puffs of shrapnel burst all along the line, and -fountain-like spurts of black and yellow smoke, followed -by columns of earth, are thrown into the air, ending in -a fog of drifting smoke and dust.</p> - - -<h3><i>12 noon.</i></h3> - -<p>The bombardment slackens and almost dies away suddenly, -and I hear a faint cheer, but searching the line -carefully with my glasses, can see no signs of life.</p> - -<p>After a short pause the bombardment bursts again, -even more intensely, and then slackens, and our guns -increase the range. I can see three armoured cars on the -right of our centre, which before I had not noticed, one -behind the other, each one a short distance to the right -of the one in front, moving slowly along the flat ground -on either side of the Sed-el-Bahr road, and they actually -pass over our front line and creep up to the Turkish front, -driving backwards. They halt, and I see the spurts of -flame coming from their armoured turrets as their machine-guns -open fire. After about ten minutes I see the car -furthest behind move back to our line, now driving forwards, -and after a while the remaining two follow. Our shells -burst thickly, smothering the Turkish first and second -lines and all the way up the slopes of Achi Baba. I see -our men in the centre leap from the trenches, and the sun -glistens on their bayonets. I see them run on in wave -after wave, some falling, and remaining lying on the -grass like sacks of potatoes. I can see nothing on the left. -Now I see the French on the hill on the right of our line, -and the hill is covered with dark figures rushing forward. -The din and roar continues, and I am called away to -my dump.</p> - - -<h3><i>2 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Rumour hath it that we have taken the first two lines -of trenches. The armoured cars return to their dugout -garage, one with one man wounded inside.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>4.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Prisoners come marching down the beach under escort. -Big, hardy chaps, in ill-fitting khaki clothes, and many with -cloth helmets on their heads, looking rather like the paper -hats I used to make when a kid.</p> - - -<h3><i>6 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>I go up to see the Quartermasters, to pass on instructions -that rations to-night will be dumped at the same place -as last, namely at the ruined house in front of Pink Farm—and -so we cannot have advanced much. I meet a -wounded R.N.D. officer, and he tells me that the French -have been forced to give way on the right, and that his -Division, immediately on their left, having advanced, are -in consequence rather hung between the Devil and the -deep sea. I stop and look through Butler’s strong telescope, -and see in front of Krithia, before a green patch, which -we on the beach call the cricket pitch, little figures digging -in hard at a new line.</p> - - -<h3><i>9 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Rifle fire still intense, and shore batteries going at it—all -out. The battleships have gone home to bed.</p> - -<p>Achi Baba looks more formidable than ever.</p> - - -<h3><i>11 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Steady rifle fire going on. We have advanced some -five hundred yards in centre, and are holding the ground -won. The French have not advanced.</p> - -<p>I learn that when our bombardment suddenly stopped, -shortly after noon, and when our infantry raised a cheer, -the enemy stood right up on the fire-steps of their parapets, -preparing to meet their charge. Our infantry did not -leave their trenches. Instead, our machine-guns got on -to the Turks, waiting exposed, and bagged many by -their fire.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 5th, 6 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Steady rifle firing still continues, having gone on all -night.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>Noon.</i></h3> - -<p>Row to French submarine with Phillips, Williamson -and Foley, and after pulling round, looking interested, -are invited on board.</p> - -<p>Phillips has one foot on the slippery back of the submarine -and one foot on the boat, rocking in the sea, when a dog -comes rushing along the deck of the submarine barking -furiously. Pained expression on Phillips’s face a study. -Dog held back by a French sailor.</p> - -<p>Most interesting on board the submarine. Engines and -mechanical gear a marvellous piece of work. Very interesting -looking through the periscope. Two charming -officers, having lunch in a dear little cabin, talk to us. -Submarine four times as big as the British one that we -went aboard two days ago.</p> - -<p>Hear that Prosser and Wyman, friends of mine in the -Hampshires, have been hit and are on hospital ships. -Damned fine chaps! Hear later that Bush, of Worcesters, -another friend and a splendid fellow, has gone, blown to -bits by a shell while leading a charge yesterday. Fine -man; he had been wounded, and had been awarded the -Military Cross, at the landing.</p> - -<p>Also the two Gypy officers, who reported at Brigade -H.Q. when I was there yesterday, have gone, killed while -leading their new companies.</p> - -<p>This happens after every battle. One makes friends—such -fine friends!—and one is always suddenly losing them, -leaving such gaps as sometimes make one wish that one -could follow them.</p> - -<p>But it is against the tradition of the service to be morbid -about it, and so we “carry on,” knowing that those who -have gone West would, if they were still with us, be cheery, -brave, cool, and efficient at their respective jobs.</p> - - -<h3><i>4 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Go up to Brigade H.Q. with O’Hara—leave the horses -at Pink Farm and walk to H.Q. Find them all up at an -observation post, just behind the firing-line, which has -moved forward after yesterday’s battle.</p> - -<p>The C.R.E. 29th Division joins us. A most unconcerned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> -individual. He goes on up across country. O’Hara waits -a bit to give some instructions and then goes on, and I -follow. After a bit across the country, with a few “overs” -flying about (“overs” are bullets which have missed their -target, but which are still travelling at a high velocity), -we dip down into a gully and follow its winding path for -about ten minutes to the observation post, where C.R.E. -and the rest of the Staff have already arrived. Bullets -fairly whizzing overhead. Usher tells me to step closer -to the side, which I promptly do, on account of a few -bullets which are on the descent. Very interesting there. -Telephone and signallers busy, and orderlies arriving and -departing. A few shells scream overhead. We all have -tea, and chat. Thompson looks rather ill and worried. -All the time we are having tea there is a constant “ping” -of bullets over the dugout. Look through observation -hole and have a perfect view of yesterday’s battlefield. -The Worcesters advanced and are holding their position. -They are exposed to enfilading fire as well as frontal fire -from the Turks, but are digging in to protect themselves. -They are very near Krithia, digging on that green patch -of land which we call the cricket pitch. Krithia looks -very formidable the closer one gets to it. Turkish trenches -are very deep, with good dugouts for sleeping and very -deep, wide communication trenches. Hence we hardly -ever see a Turk. Their firing-line and the sleeping dugouts -are actually boarded.</p> - - -<h3><i>11.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>As I turn into bed there is firing all along the line. -Turkish counter-attack going on. Our casualties yesterday -very heavy, but Turks’ colossal. The <i>Goeben</i> fired over to -us to-day with not much damage; shells did not reach -the beach.</p> - -<p>I hear that Colonel Williams, or General, as I have up -to now been calling him on account of his having acted -as Brigadier of the 88th, up to the arrival of General Doran, -was wounded in yesterday’s battle. On General Doran’s -arrival he went to the 2nd Hampshires, his regiment, and -took command. When the moment for the infantry attack<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -arrived, they leapt over, and in an incredibly short space -of time had taken their first objective. Colonel Williams, -with his Adjutant, then followed over to make his H.Q. -in the newly won trench.</p> - -<p>On inspecting it and making arrangements for the attack -on the second objective, he came back to his old H.Q. -to telephone the result, an orderly accompanying him. -Half-way back a Turk leapt up from behind a bush, ten -yards away from him, and fired his rifle, the bullet instantly -killing Colonel Williams’s orderly. Colonel Williams drew -his revolver, took deliberate aim, and the Turk, also taking -deliberate aim, levelled his rifle at the same time. For -a second an old-time duel might have been taking place, -in the middle of an historic battleground, which was lately -No-man’s-land. Both fire; the Turk falls dead, and -Colonel Williams is wounded in the left arm. That Turk -was a brave man, but I think Colonel Williams is a braver.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 6th, 7 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Shells come over on east side of the beach from a four-gun -Turkish battery, and big stuff too, about 6-inch.</p> - - -<h3><i>7.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>More arrive in middle of our camp on the west side -of the battery. We take cover under a cliff. I, wanting -to get down to Train office, go up a cliff and am just about -to descend the steps when the shriek of one is heard, by -which I could tell it is close to me. I fall flat into a hole -on one side of the cliff, and it passes over the cliff and -bursts on the beach, killing gunner sergeant-major. Ugh! -how they shriek.</p> - -<p>Heavy firing continued on left all night. We lost a -trench, but regained it. A Turkish Padre is a prisoner -on the beach to-day. He looks rather a dear old chap, -with quite a benevolent expression.</p> - - -<h3><i>6 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>I go up to Brigade with Carver in the afternoon, leaving -our horses at Pink Farm. My old mare knows Pink Farm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> -well now. When I dismounted to-day and let go the -reins, she walked over to the tree that I always tie her -to, under cover of the farm, quite on her own.</p> - -<p>At H.Q. bullets are zipping over more frequently than -I have ever known them to do before. Waiting to see -General Doran, who should I see strolling calmly across -the country but my friend Dent, of the Inniskillings. The -last time we had met was at a gramophone dance at some -common friends’ home in Edgbaston. We have a chat -about those days, and ask each other for news of the -partners we used to dance with. All the time, “ping-ping,” -bullets fly about, but as he does not seem to mind, I take -my cue from him and try not to mind either. Besides, -it would be rather nice to get a cushy one in the arm.</p> - - -<h3><i>11 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>We are being shelled by a battery from Kum Kale. -This is the first time we have been shelled at night. They -do not reach our side of the beach, and, as Phillips says -he “can read the mind of the Turkish gunner” (he is -always saying this, and I have great confidence in him), -and that we are off the target, I go to sleep without anxiety.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 7th.</i></h3> - -<p>Heavy gun with high explosive kicking up a devil of -a row all day, but not reaching the beach, bursting in the -valley on the way to Brigade H.Q. Plenty of artillery -duelling all day. Asiatic battery fires on transports and -hits one several times, setting her alight, and she now has -a heavy list on. French crew rush to boats and clear -off quick. British torpedo destroyer goes alongside, puts -crew on board the transport, and they put out the fire. -All transports move further out to sea, and Turkish battery -shuts up.</p> - -<p>I have to feed the prisoners, and a party of them come -up to our depot under a guard to draw rations. Transport -is provided by two G.S. wagons. There are ten of them -in the party, and one of their N.C.O.’s. They fall in in -two ranks, and wherever I move they follow me with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> -their eyes. I then motion to their N.C.O. to load up a -certain number of boxes. He gives an order in Turkish, -and they load up in remarkably quick time. They are -then fallen in by their N.C.O., and one of them who is -rather dilatory is pushed into his place by the others. -Marching in front of their G.S. wagons, they go back to -their barbed wire enclosure. They appeared most anxious -to do the right thing. Many of them were raggedly clothed, -with their boots almost out at heel. No shelling during -night.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 8th.</i></h3> - -<p>Hardly any Turkish shelling this morning. Went up -to Brigade H.Q. While there, Usher, the Brigade Major, -shows me the wires that were received and sent to and -from the Brigade H.Q. during the battle of June 4th, -and they make interesting reading, telling a grim story -in short, pithy, matter-of-fact sentences. Troops now consolidating -line and making it firm. The Lancashire Fusiliers -successfully took a trench last night, and straightened -the line somewhat. <i>Askold</i> popping off on the Asiatic -side to silence Turkish batteries.</p> - -<p>My friend Dent, of the Inniskillings, hit last night -by a spent bullet in the gully, but I think not seriously. -Grogan, of the K.O.S.B.’s., a delightful chap, was killed -by a shell on June 4th. Such a splendid fellow!</p> - -<p>My mare, looking very fit now, gets quite frisky when -I ride out to the front every morning, and is getting better -at jumping across trenches.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 9th.</i></h3> - -<p>Blowing a great gale down the Peninsula, and the dust -is perfectly awful. I have never experienced such a wind, -and yet an aeroplane goes up, but for a bit is absolutely -stationary, and soon has to land.</p> - -<p>Turks in a very strong position on the left. Country -lends itself naturally to defences. Ride up to line with -Phillips and Way. Coming back, Way’s horse lashed out -at my mare, kicking me in the shin, making a nasty place. -My leg is now bandaged, and I limp rather badly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span></p> - -<p>Very little firing to-day. Asiatic battery woke us up -at 5.30 a.m. and tried to bombard transports, all shells -falling into the sea.</p> - -<p>Rowed out to sea and went on board submarine B10 -with Phillips, and saw North. Actually had a drink. -Also they have a gramophone, and it was absolutely gorgeous -listening to familiar music, carrying us back to our -past peaceful existence once more.</p> - -<p>As we go up on deck to take our leave, a torpedo boat -circles round us, a signaller wagging to us. The signal -is taken by one of the crew of the submarine, transmitted -to the commander, and reads, “Anything we can do for -you?” He replies, “No, thanks. Any news?” and the -torpedo-boat destroyer signals back some news that has -just come through of progress made by our force in -Mesopotamia on the road to Bagdad. We are told that -daily torpedo-boat destroyers come along and offer to do -little jobs for the officers on board the submarine, and -sometimes send over delicacies, such as roast fowl hot, etc.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 10th, 5.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Shells popping off at shipping again, and one hits the -beach. Also the Turks in front get very busy, for four -hours bombarding our position. I believe that they really -think that they are going to push us into the sea.</p> - - -<h3><i>5.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>I walk along the road at the foot of the cliff towards -“X” Beach. The road is now a good one, and the transport -is making continual traffic up and down. It is very -convenient, for transport can move not only under cover -from the enemy, but in safety to a certain extent, for -up to now but few shells drop over the cliff on to this road. -I know a place, however, from which they can shell this -road and the slope of the cliff, and that is on their extreme -right overlooking the sea. From there they can look -along parts of the road and side of the cliff, which is in -view of their trenches; though other parts, by the coast, -jutting out a little for small distances, are under perfect -cover, and, in fact, quite safe.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span></p> - -<p>Passing the Greek Labour Camp, I continue my walk -to “X” Beach, which is about half as wide as “W” -and a quarter as deep. Instead of the ground sloping -up gently at the back, as is the case at “W” Beach, it -rises at a steep angle to the top of the cliffs. Unlike -“W” Beach, it comes constantly under shrapnel shell -fire, but receives very few heavy shells, and is far more -under cover than is “W.”</p> - -<p>The road to Gully Beach, at the foot of the cliffs of -“X” Beach, is not finished yet, and is in a very rough -state. Just before I reach Gully Beach I come upon -Brigade H.Q. dug in at the side and foot of the cliff. The -battalions are “dug in” in as much regimental order as -possible along the sides of the cliff, which are higher here -than further down the Peninsula, and more under cover. -Shells now and again burst, shrapnel chiefly, on the top -of the cliff, and a few come over and fall with a big -splash into the sea, but none burst on the slopes of the -cliff. I hear, though, that one man yesterday was cut -in half by a shell while bathing. A horrid sight!</p> - -<p>This camp on the slopes of the cliff is now the Rest -Camp of the Division, and while two Brigades are in the -line, one Brigade is at rest. At rest, that is, from bullets, -and, if they keep under the cliff, from shells, but not at rest -from digging fatigues. The road has to be made, and so -have the dugouts on the side of the cliff. They get good -bathing though, and bathing out here beats any that I -have ever struck.</p> - -<p>I talk to the only two officers left of those who were -with the Worcesters in England. They appear very -breezy and bright.</p> - -<p>We are hard at work building our men’s bivouac, which -is in the form of a funk-hole. We are digging it in the -side of the cliff, from the top, and it will be entered by -about ten steps leading down on to a terrace, which will -run on the outside of the house, dug into the cliff’s side, -under a sloping roof made with a sailcloth. It will be -so situated that, should shells come our way, they will -either burst on top, where our old bivouac still is, or fly -over the cliff and burst in the road below or in the sea.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span></p> - -<p>We are modelling ours on a bivouac of some R.N.D. -officers about fifty yards further up the cliff-side. On their -terrace they have all their meals, including dinner at night, -which is a luxury, with the sound of the waves washing -against the road below and the view of Imbros in the -distance. In their dugout house at night they go to sleep -with more feeling of security than I have at present.</p> - -<p>I share a tent with Phillips. Just as I am turning in, -Way comes in to say that Asia has just started sending -over high explosives. None reach us, but they make a -devil of a row, and I fall asleep feeling rather uncomfortable.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 12th.</i></h3> - -<p>Woke up at 5.30 a.m. by shelling, shells from Asia -nearly reaching a big transport that had come in overnight, -on the opposite of our “bivvy.” Wind and flies as bad -as ever, and it is getting very hot. Dust smothering -everything. Turks reported to be sick of the war, and -rumoured to be individually seeking a chance to give -themselves up. But it is still a long, long way to Achi -Baba. That must be taken first.</p> - -<p>Cliff on the west side up to Gully Beach covered with -troops, looking like a lot of khaki ants from a distance; -all back resting. They have to keep well under cover -of cliffs, as they would soon be shelled. Major Lang, -Worcesters, killed in the last battle. He was the officer -I saw in the trenches when I went up for Bush’s letters. -Bush also killed. This side of the war is the most difficult -to bear.</p> - -<p>Just heard that Brigade are moving back to trenches -after three days’ rest.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 13th.</i></h3> - -<p>Perfect day; wind dropped, but still a slight breeze. -Have got into our new “bivvy” on side of cliff. Went -up to Brigade H.Q. in front of Pink Farm. All well. -Hear they are moving forward to-morrow three hundred -yards. Creeping nearer to our goal. General Doran gone -back to England, ill after last battle. Lieutenant-Colonel -Cayley, late O.C. of the Worcesters, now Acting Brigadier-General.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> -“Asiatic Annie” popped off and dropped shells -nicely on Krithia road, on spot that I and my mare had -passed five minutes before, and she sends some nasty ones.</p> - -<p>Also she is dropping high explosives in French camp -in Morto Bay. I don’t think I shall bathe there for a bit.</p> - - -<h3><i>5.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>French aeroplane falls into sea. Pilot and observer -can be seen sitting on top of wing. Destroyers come to -the rescue, and also several motor-boats. Officer picked -up and aeroplane taken in tow.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 15th.</i></h3> - -<p>Many reinforcements have arrived, and troops are everywhere -now, covering the Helles plateau up to Pink Farm -with their camps, dug-in in trenches called rest camps. -There is not much rest for them to-day, for Asia as well -as Achi is making them their target. As I assay to go -up to Brigade H.Q. I find the West Krithia being shelled. -It is almost impossible to ride across country on account -of the camps, and one has to keep to the roads, so I postpone -my journey to later on in the day. I get laughed -at for this. But it is the first time that I have started -to go to Brigade H.Q. and funked it. I reply that if they -would like a nice fat shell in their tummies they can ride -up the West Krithia road now. However, they are only -ragging, and any man who looks for shells is a fool.</p> - -<p>We are being shelled very badly from Asia to-day. -They appear to have six big guns over there, somewhere -opposite Morto Bay, and, no doubt, they have observation -posts at Kum Kale or Yen-i-Shehr, and can see all that we -are doing. We must make perfect targets. Their shells -are reaching all over the Peninsula now, and one fell right -over our “bivvy,” exploding in the shallow water of the -sea, killing a quantity of fish. These shells from Asia are -doing a lot of damage; every time they come, men lose -their lives or get wounded, while the casualties among -the animals are keeping the hands of the Veterinary -Services full.</p> - -<p>A 6-inch shell came right in the Supply depot this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> -afternoon, but did not explode, yet it caused a sad casualty. -It struck the leg of an A.S.C. driver, a boy of twenty, and -severed it clean from his body. He evidently did not -realize it, for he made an attempt to stand up and hold -back his mule, which was bolting with fright, but, of -course, he immediately fell back. Shortly after, he died.</p> - -<p>They shelled us at intervals until dusk, just two or three -at a time, and at intervals of half an hour or so, keeping -us on tenterhooks. Phew! give me the nice deep trenches -when this goes on, where one walks about in comparative -safety. There is no cover on “W” Beach. You hear -the distant boom, and then fall and grip the bosom of -Mother Earth as a frightened child does its mother. Then—get -up and go on with your job. But not so the A.S.C. -driver. His order is to stand by his mule on “W” -Beach, that bull’s-eye of a target, and I hope that many -of these drivers are not forgotten when names are called -to be sent in for honourable mention. Riding and driving -their mules at the same time, they are prevented from -hearing the horrid shriek of the on-rushing shell by the -loud sound that the wheels of their G.S. wagons make, -and only when they see and hear a nerve-racking explosion, -or hear metal whizzing past their heads, making a -sound like a propeller of an aeroplane, do they realize that -they are under fire and in instant danger of being blown -to bits. Yet they must not leave their mules. They must -get the animals, wagons, and themselves under cover as -soon as possible. As soon as possible! and that may mean -ten minutes, and ten minutes of Hell.</p> - -<p>I have not yet seen a driver leave his mules, but I have -seen several wounded and one or two lads killed. But -<i>c’est la guerre</i>—it is only the A.S.C. quietly doing its job. -No glory and honour. But ask an infantry man in the -line here if he would change places with an A.S.C. driver -on the beach, and he will say that he prefers to stay in -his trench and take his chance when the moment for the -leap over the parapet comes. But the A.S.C. never talk -much; they just do their job, and when cursed for this, -that, and the other trivial matter, say, “Sorry; we will -see if the matter can be improved.” “Improved!” We<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> -are the finest fed army in the world. Where is the room -for improvement?</p> - -<p>At dusk I go up to Brigade H.Q. with my staff-sergeant, -and overtake a draft for the Hampshires on the way to -join their battalions. I meet Usher, and he conducts -them to their new trenches, and asks me to take Major -Beckwith, who is just back, having now recovered from -a wound in his leg, received on April 28th, after he -had earned the D.S.O., up to Brigade; which I do, and -I wait and have a drink with General Cayley. There are -not many bullets about. Star lights go up continually -from our and the enemy’s front line.</p> - -<p>It is a weary walk back, and I wish that I had ridden.</p> - -<p>Milward, Naval Landing Officer, came to dinner last -night. He was the Landing Officer on the <i>Dongola</i>, and -had the job of sending us off to our doom on April 25th. -Also Warburton, off a submarine. He was with Holbrook -when he got the V.C.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 16th.</i></h3> - -<p>Not very heavy shelling this morning. A few rounds -near our depot at issuing time. No shells from Asia. -The French have been touching them up a bit over there, -and probably they are shifting their position. The French -are hot stuff in getting on to the enemy’s positions.</p> - -<p>No letters, no rumours, and life very monotonous. Large -numbers of men going off sick with dysentery.</p> - -<p>In the afternoon they start shelling again up the -Krithia road, and again I postpone my visit to Brigade -H.Q. until nightfall, and ride up this time. First time -my mare has been to Pink Farm by night, and she does -not like it at all. There are plenty of bullets by night, -and but few by day. They continually flatten themselves -against the ruined walls of Pink Farm. The Turk appears -to enjoy sitting in his trench, cocking his rifle up, and spraying -with bullets the road up which he knows transport -will come.</p> - -<p>Riding back, just half-way to “W” Beach from Pink -Farm I see a bright flash to my left on the shores of Asia, -and a few seconds after hear the deep boom of “Asiatic<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> -Annie,” a shriek, and a dull thud on “W” Beach. This -is the first shell from “Asiatic Annie” sent over by night, -and if we are going to get them by night our life will be -pretty poisonous. No place on this little tip of land is -safe from shells now, and this afternoon the ships lying -off have to clear away. To see a battleship now is a rare -event, on account of the constant fear of submarines.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 17th.</i></h3> - -<p>Coming back from issuing this morning to my “bivvy” -on the cliff, I hear ship’s horns tooting continuously, and -running to the edge of the cliff I see a supply ship, which -is lying immediately opposite, hoist a red flag, being the -signal that submarines are about. Destroyers, mine-sweepers, -and small pinnaces from shore put out to the -transport and cruise round and round her. I see distinctly -a shadow glide along on the water on the side of the ship -farthest from us, looking like the shadow from a cloud -in the sky, and then it disappears. Men on board are -all around the ship, peering over the side. Then suddenly -I see bobbing about in the water, like a big fisherman’s -float, the red tip of a torpedo. Some one on a trawler -shouts through a megaphone to the other craft, “Look -out for that torpedo!” A small row-boat from the trawler -puts out, rows up to the bobbing object in the water, -fastens a rope round its nose and rows away, towing it -after them. On nearing No. 1 Pier, the pier nearest to -us, an M.L.O. standing at the pierhead shouts, “Is the -pistol head on?” A reply from the boat says “Yes,” -and the M.L.O. shouts back, “Well, take the damn thing -away and sink it.” The oarsmen then head their boat -out to sea, and, after some arrangement which I cannot -see through my glasses, sink the torpedo.</p> - -<p>Ordnance get to hear of this and are annoyed, for they -would prize such a find as one of the latest German -torpedoes. It was quite 15 feet long, with a red-painted -nose and a long, shining, bronze-coloured body.</p> - -<p>Later, we hear that the submarine had fired two torpedoes, -and by being too close to her quarry, missed. By being -too close, also, she was missed by the destroyers, for they,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> -at the time, were making circles around the transport at -about the distance of the usual effective range of a torpedo. -Shortly after, the supply ships were driven off out -to sea by the Asiatic guns. Our 60-pounder guns are firing -hard over to Asia. I hope they have got the range of their -guns. Our bivouac, unfortunately, is in the direct line -of their fire, and as each shot is fired we can’t help jumping, -and our “bivvy” shakes its flimsy walls.</p> - -<p>Three shells from Asia pitched right into our hospital -on the edge of the cliff on the left of “W” Beach looking -seawards, killing two orderlies and wounding six, yet the -doctors calmly went on with their work of bandaging and -dressing. The hospital is on a bad site, for it is only -divided by a road from the little village of marquees forming -the Ordnance depot.</p> - -<p>At 8.30 p.m. I go up to Brigade H.Q. with an orderly, -and leave the horses at Pink Farm, and walk across that -two hundred and fifty yards with bullets whistling more -than usual, for to-night the Turks appear more energetic -with rifle fire. It is an eerie sensation, walking across there -in the dark when many bullets are about—walking very -fast, almost counting one’s steps, and getting nearer and -nearer to the little light on the side of the hill. Had a chat -there for twenty minutes in the dugout with General Cayley -and his Staff, and had a drink. Rather a nice picture, with -the candles and the cheery officers sitting round; outside, -the sound of bullets whistling continuously. I say good-night -and go out, and find my orderly crouching pretty -well down in a dugout, and he says he thinks we had better -hurry out, as it is a bit hot, and as he says so, “ping” -goes a bullet between us. But the bullets do not give -me the fear that those horrible high explosive shells from -Asia do. A moon is getting up, and so we are able to trot -back smartly. The scene on the Krithia road at night -is just what I imagined, in past life, war to be. The wagons -trekking up to the trenches, with, of course, no lights, -and troops of all kinds moving up and down. In the -distance, star shells shooting up and sailing gently down, -illuminating the country as light as day, and as one gets -nearer to the firing-line the crackle of musketry gets louder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> -and louder, and during the final walk of three hundred -yards from Pink Farm to H.Q., the song of bullets flying -past one makes one very much alive. Overhead, a perfect -sky and myriads of stars looking down on a great tragedy -with a certain amount of comic relief. These days we -wish for more comic relief than we are getting.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 18th.</i></h3> - -<p>This morning Asia’s guns have not worried us so far, -but the batteries in front of Achi Baba are very active, -and are worrying the troops in the valley very much. -The sound of bursting shrapnel reminds me of the spit -and snarls of angry cats. Our artillery is quiet. Rumour -says that another enemy submarine has been accounted -for, but the one that came in yesterday morning is still -at large, and consequently our Fleet is unable to come and -help us. At two o’clock H.M.S. <i>Prince George</i> is sighted -off Imbros, surrounded by twelve destroyers and preceded -by seventeen mine-sweepers. It was a very impressive -sight to see—all these destroyers and sweepers jealously -guarding the great ship from submarine attack.</p> - -<p>She takes up a position opposite the Asiatic coast, well -out from the mouth, and then opens fire with all big guns -on the Turkish batteries on Asia in position opposite Morto -Bay. We enjoy seeing the pasting that she gives them, -her big guns rapidly roaring away and belching forth -spurts of flame and buff-coloured smoke. Everybody -imagines that every Turkish gun must be knocked out. -After four hours, she leaves with her retinue of smaller -ships. Half an hour after, one big gun on the Asiatic -side opens fire on to “V” Beach, and simultaneously a -heavy Turkish attack on our left starts, supported by a -tremendous bombardment from Turkish artillery. The -fight lasted all night, and ended about six in the morning. -Their infantry left their trenches very half-heartedly, and our -machine-guns accounted for a heavy toll of enemy casualties.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 19th.</i></h3> - -<p>We gave way at a part of our line last night, but regained -the ground later in the early morning, and our line<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> -is still intact, and as we were. We lost heavily, but -Turkish losses were enormous.</p> - -<p>Captain Usher, my Staff Captain, was killed this early -morning in the trenches by shrapnel, and I feel his loss -awfully. He was always so charming to me. It’s the -“good-uns” that go, as Wilkie Bard says. I am sure -this war is too terrible to last long; it is simply wholesale -butchery, and humanity will cry out against it soon.</p> - -<p>At 11.30 an exceptionally heavy shell came over from -Asia (a high explosive) and fairly shook the earth. Two -minutes after, two more came, and every living soul rushed -for cover. Then for three hours they pasted us: over they -came, one after the other, with terrific shrieks and deafening -explosions, throwing chunks of hot jagged-edged metal -whizzing in all directions. All the mules and horses, as -far as possible, were got under cover, and men rushed to -their dugouts. Carver, Way, Davy, Foley, Phillips, and -I were under cover of the cliff in our “bivvy,” which -cannot be called a dugout, as it is simply a wide platform -cut in and built up on the side of the cliff and in the line -of fire, between the 60-pounder battery, twenty-five yards -to our west, and the Asiatic battery. The 60-pounders -soon opened fire, and then a duel began; and after one or -two have pitched first over our “bivvy” into the sea, and -one or two just short, we get nervy and decide to quit. -Phillips and Davy made the first dash down the cliff, -and the others said they would wait for the next shell. -It came shrieking along, burst, and I got up and made -a dart down the slope. I was down to the bottom of that -cliff in thirty seconds, and found myself with the Divisional -Ammunition Column people, and all amongst boxes of -high explosive. Ammunition Column Officers are there, -but I begin to think it would have been safer up in the -“bivvy,” where the others still were, for they did not -follow me. After a lull in the firing, I went up to the cliff, -and half-way up they popped off again, and I was fortunate -in finding a very safe dugout belonging to Major -Horton, and he invited me in with Major Huskisson, -Major Shorto, Poole, and Weatherall. And while shells -still come over, first bursting on the beach, then in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> -sea, then on the top of our cliff, and then on the high -ground on the back of the beach, we have lunch.</p> - - -<h3><i>7.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>I am writing this in our “bivvy” once more, and aeroplanes -are up spotting for the 60-pounders. They have -just pooped off. One almost shakes the cliff when she -fires. Asia has answered, but the shell has pitched on -the east side of “W” Beach. The suspense of waiting -for these shells is getting on the nerves of us all. What -gets on my nerves more than shells is the losing of the -“pukka” regular officers of this splendid Division, who are -so cheery and manly, so reassuring to one and to each other. -When they are killed, the stuffing and grit are almost knocked -out of you. We four Supply Officers have now been under -fire almost every day since April 25th, night and day, -and a rest away from it all would be awfully welcome. -Yet we pull ourselves together when we realize what the -infantry have gone through and are still going through; -I hate talking like this, it makes me think I am getting -“wind up.” Fish is plentiful to-day, killed by Asia’s -shells, brought in by enterprising Greeks and sold to -Tommies. Excellent eating.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 20th.</i></h3> - -<p>Last night one Asiatic gun fired over to our camp one -high explosive shell every half an hour, but everybody was -well dug in, and no harm was done. I was sound asleep.</p> - -<p>This morning Turkish artillery is very active, but Asia’s -guns are not doing much. We are improving our “bivvy,” -making it possible to do our work without much interruption. -It is almost impossible to keep books and organize -the feeding of an army with high explosive and other -shells dropping around, Lord knows where next. At the -Supply depot, however, we are very exposed, and it is -very trying to stand there issuing day’s food and loading -up the wagons with shells flying overhead, and therefore -I am having a proper dugout made. We have had -many casualties there now, and the Supply and Transport -men have absolutely no chance to save themselves when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> -standing in the open, with high explosives bursting near. -We try and treat it humorously, but it is always a relief -when the job is done.</p> - -<p>This morning my staff-sergeant came to me and said, -“The R.A. —— have taken ——” (shriek of a shell and -a bang, during which we both looked over our shoulders) -“them supplies to the gully, sir.” I reply, “All right,” -and then we both duck behind a biscuit-box as another -shell comes nearer. Not much use really getting behind -a box, but it looks safer than nothing at all.</p> - -<p>As Hyslop, our Canadian Vet., said, “Any hole looks -good when Asia gets busy.”</p> - -<p>This afternoon I walked along under the cliff to Gully -Beach to see my Brigade, who have now gone into reserve -for a rest. On the way we pass a Padre holding evening -prayer and preaching a sermon. As I come back I learn -that several shrapnel had burst over the cliff, two officers, -one man, and a horse being wounded. A piece had hit -the heel of the boot of the Padre as he was conducting -the service.</p> - -<p>I spoke to several officers of the Royal Scots who had -been in the fighting two nights ago, during which the Manchester -Territorials retired, evacuating two trenches, which -the Royal Scots and one company of the Worcesters took -back twenty minutes after. Colonel Wilson, O.C. Royal -Scots, has been awarded the D.S.O. for this piece -of work.</p> - -<p>Bombs were used freely, and when the Royal Scots -had got to the foremost trench, at one time Turks and -British both occupied the same trench, the Turks hastily -erecting a barricade in the trench itself to protect them -from the Royal Scots, who, however, quickly drove them -out by bombs. Steel assured me that the Turks were -using explosive bullets, but I doubt this; but I do think -that they reverse their bullets now and again. I notice -that his face is pitted with little cuts, and I learn that he -has suffered this through being in the front line with his -regiment in the battle of June 4th, and on reaching their -objective—the Turkish trench in front—while hastily -helping in the work of building a parapet with sand-bags,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> -was struck full in the face by a sand-bag bursting through -being struck by machine gun fire. He is acting Adjutant -to the regiment.</p> - -<p>I hear that there is to be a French bombardment to-night, -followed by an infantry attack.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 21st, 6 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>There is a fearful bombardment going on; every battery -on shore is concentrating its gunfire on a Turkish -redoubt on the Turkish left, called the Haricot Redoubt, -and also on the trenches. The Turkish batteries are -replying furiously, but without effect, though “Asiatic -Annie” is rather nasty, her shells falling around the French -batteries. One cannot see the effect, because of the dust -that the shells are kicking up, which is blowing right down -to the beach. The 60-pounders on our right, twenty-five -yards away, are joining in with a deafening report; only -one is in this action. The echo of her voice plays ducks -and drakes around the coast and the few transports about, -getting fainter as the sound dies away. French battleship -at mouth of Straits firing heavily. Destroyers continually -patrolling around her.</p> - - -<h3><i>11 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The infantry attack by the French has started, and -there is a report of heavy musketry all along their line.</p> - - -<h3><i>12 noon.</i></h3> - -<p>I can see the French advancing under a perfect hail of -shrapnel over the ridge behind De Tott’s Battery. They -are lost to view, and now I can only see hundreds of shells -bursting and hear an undertone of musketry. I can see -nothing now but dust and smoke.</p> - - -<h3><i>4 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>On duty at depot. Fighting died down. Howitzer -from Asia firing our way, but cannot reach us. Shells -bursting about Hill 138.</p> - -<p>News that the French have done well and advanced -quite a good way.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>6 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Asia fires on submarines off “W” Beach and nearly -hits one. They clear off for half an hour and then -come back.</p> - -<p>Perfect weather, and fine day for flying. Aeroplanes -doing good work, whirring about over Achi Baba and -Asia.</p> - - -<h3><i>7.45 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The Turks are counter-attacking our right in force, but -the French, with the support of the “75’s,” are holding -the ground which they have won to-day. Roar of guns -growing louder and louder.</p> - -<p>If the French manage to hold their own, it will considerably -lessen the morale of the enemy, and the hill -should be taken in the near future, and our own job will -be half over.</p> - - -<h3><i>8.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Battle still going on. On beach Tommies singing “There’s -a Little Grey Home in the West.” Sun just going down -behind Imbros, making most lovely colouring. Sea dead -calm: most peaceful scene, looking out to sea, but when -one turns one’s back one sees a great battle raging three -miles inland. Extraordinary contrast.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 22nd.</i></h3> - -<p>Very hot, but perfect day. French attack successful -yesterday. They took two lines of trenches, and so have -shortened and strengthened our front. Walked with -Phillips and Birch (second in command of another submarine -that has just arrived) to Gully Beach, overland. -All quiet on front. Turkish artillery dead quiet, but -French “75’s” now and again popping off. See Brigade -H.Q., now in rest on the side of cliffs, and also Essex Regiment. -Hear that Revel, of the Essex, has died of wounds. -Ripping young chap. Had a cheery chat with him up -at Brigade H.Q. two weeks ago. The 29th Division officers -are falling fast now, and we feel their loss terribly. A -Taube came over this morning and dropped three bombs,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> -but only hit one man, wounding him slightly, but killed -nine horses. I thought I saw the bombs drop quite clearly, -as I was watching through glasses, and it was surprising -the time that they took to drop. I may have been mistaken—the -Taube was about over me—but I thought I -saw a pencil line, as it were, drawn against the sky. -Nasty suspense waiting for the things to reach the ground.</p> - -<p>O.C. of the West Lowland Territorial Engineers killed -by shell at gully yesterday. Very fine chap.</p> - - -<h3><i>8 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>A quiet day. Rumour that we are to expect asphyxiating -gas dodge, and that we are going to have respirators -served out. Unfortunately, the prevailing wind is down -the Peninsula and in our faces, and we are barely four -miles from the Turkish trenches. Beautiful evening, and -the sun setting behind Imbros is making most exquisite -colouring.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 23rd, 10.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Turks very quiet. French “75’s” now and again firing. -Very hot, fine day. Rode last night to Gully Beach with -Carver, round by road on cliffs on “W” coast. Beautiful -moonlight night. Wagons trekking up and down, and -now and again a sentry challenges with his bayonet -pointed to the breasts of our horses, which we rein in, -at the same time shouting “Friend,” answered by -“Pass, friend; all’s well.” I should like to feel that it -really was “all well.”</p> - -<p>Enemy aircraft brought down yesterday, falling in -Turkish lines.</p> - -<p>French losses in recent battle, 2,000.</p> - -<p>To-night I ride again with Carver to Gully Beach, -which is now the home of the 29th Division H.Q.</p> - -<p>The steep cliffs on either side of the gully are honeycombed -with dugouts, each with a little light shining, and in the -declining light, with the moon hanging overhead, shining -on the sea, it is a very beautiful sight. We had a topping -ride back along the road on the edge of the cliff overlooking -the calm sea, lit up by silver moonlight. We could see<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> -quite plainly enough to canter, and cantering by moonlight -in such beautiful surroundings is a unique pleasure.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 24th.</i></h3> - -<p>To-day has been very hot and arid, very fine, and the sea -dead calm, but artillery duels have been going on all day.</p> - -<p>As the French were so successful in their last battle, -having captured those trenches and the Haricot Redoubt -on their left, thereby straightening and shortening our -line, I think there is going to be another general attack -for the hill to-morrow, preceded by an exceptionally -heavy bombardment. If successful, then the danger of -asphyxiating gas attack for the present is over.</p> - -<p>Went up to Brigade H.Q. with Phillips. Beautiful -moonlight, and all quiet on front. Had a nice gallop -back on West Krithia road, but my mare nearly ran away -with me; a bit dangerous going, as there were so many -shell-holes about. Pink Farm and West Krithia road -get so badly dusted with shrapnel all day and every day -now, that I usually go up by night or early morning to H.Q.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 25th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is now exactly two months since we landed. Turkish -artillery has been fairly active to-day. It has been very -hot, but a beautiful day, and is now a most beautiful night, -with the sea dead calm. We are having some nice bathing. -The fly pest is worse than ever, and is frightfully worrying. -The attack is not to come off to-morrow, after all, but -Sunday.</p> - -<p>To-day the <i>Lord Nelson</i>, escorted by destroyers, went -up the West Coast and bombarded some target behind -Achi Baba. Shortly after, a column of smoke arose behind -the hill, and evidently the <i>Lord Nelson</i> has made good -practice. She was shelled by a Turkish field battery, -but only two shells burst immediately over her, and hardly -did any damage.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 26th.</i></h3> - -<p>I rose at 5.30 a.m. and, getting my mare saddled, rode -over to the other side of the beach and woke up Butler,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> -the Quartermaster of the Worcesters, who had promised -to give me what he called “a personally conducted Cook’s -Tour to the first-line trenches.” We had some hot tea -and biscuits and a tot of rum, and then we mounted and -started off. My mare was full of the joy of life and very -fresh.</p> - -<p>As we went over the crest on to the West Coast road, -mist was hanging low on the cliffs and at the foot of Achi -Baba. Above, the sky was cloudless. The words of -Omar came to mind—</p> - -<!-- -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Awake, for Morning in the bowl of Night</div> - <div class="verse">Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to flight.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> ---> - -<p class="noindent small"> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Awake, for Morning in the bowl of Night</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to flight.</span> -</p> - - -<p>I wish the stone would put the Turks to flight.</p> - -<p>We rode to the gully, and then down on to the beach; -there a priest was preparing an altar on biscuit-boxes, and -about four hundred troops were waiting to take Holy -Communion. We rode up the bed of the gully, and it -was the first time that I had been right up. The Engineers -had made a good road up, winding in and out between -high, irregular cliffs, covered with gorse, and passing little -gullies running out of the main one, to right and left. All -up, for about a mile and a half, the sides are honeycombed -with dugouts for troops to rest after a spell in the trenches, -for Battery H.Q., and signal posts, etc. We passed the -H.Q. of the 86th Brigade, the latter being dug-in in a -charming spot a mile up from the beach. Thompson, my -late Staff Captain, was seated on a terrace high up -the cliff, shaving, and shouted “Good-morning” to me. -Arriving at the head of the gully, we dismount and hand -over horses to a groom, with instructions to him to -take them across country to Pink Farm. We meet Harding, -the Q.M. of the Royal Fusiliers.</p> - -<p>We climb up the right side of the gully—a most beautiful -spot, which would delight artists—and enter into a trench, -over which bullets whiz, and now and again shrapnel. -Passing along the trench for some way, we turn to the -left, and go for quite a hundred yards along the communication -trench, leading into a maze of trenches, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> -we are enabled to find our way by directing sign-boards, -such as “To Reserve Trenches,” “To Support -Trenches,” “To Fire Trench,” and names of units -marked on as well.</p> - -<p>We at last find ourselves in the Reserve, and have a -chat with the Essex. Then we wend our way and pass -along an uninhabited trench, an evidently disused communication -trench, and come on what is literally the emblem -of death grinning at us. We see a grinning skull, with -almost all the flesh rotted off it, a bundle of rags, a hand, -and two lower parts of legs with boots and puttees intact. -Such a sight in earlier life would have filled me with horror. -But I look upon such sights now as one would look upon -a ruined house.</p> - -<p>We come to a dugout in the support trenches, and are -asked to wait, as two men have just been hit by shrapnel. -Two R.H.A. men tell us that at the end of the next communication -trench there is a Naval 12-pounder gun that had -opened fire that morning on what was thought to be a -poisonous-gas factory in a nullah in the Turkish lines, -and that a Turkish battery had found our gun out and -was shelling it. The two men who happened to be here -had been hit. Shelling seems to have ceased, and one -R.H.A. man said to the other, “Come on, Bill; if we are -going to get ’it, we are going to get ’it!” This sounded -good philosophy, and so we followed them. One of them -shouldered a sack of food, and the other two jars of rum. -Round the corner we passed the two wounded men—one -wounded in the arm and the other badly in the shoulder; -but both seemed quite cheerful about it.</p> - -<p>We went along the communication trench, on and on, -until I really thought that the damn trench would lead -into the Turkish lines, and then it gradually got shallower -and shallower, until we found ourselves in the open, but -under cover of a rise, which was more or less protected from -Turkish fire. Then, suddenly, we came on this 12-pounder -gun and saw three gunners crouching in a dugout. The -two gunners who were leading the way went off down -another trench hastily, pointing the way for us to follow -to the fire-trenches, and we nipped over that open space<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> -in double-quick time, I taking a heap of used cartridges -in my stride, and at last we found ourselves in the well -dug-out front-line fire-trenches, where we found the Worcesters. -We had a chat with the officers.</p> - -<p>Shortly after our arrival, shelling began again with that -12-pounder for a target; they put salvo after salvo over at -the place we had passed. It was rather interesting watching -the shelling from our part of the trench, and the sergeant-major -seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it.</p> - -<p>We have a look at the front trenches, which are very -well made, with high parapets of sand-bags, iron loopholes, -and periscopes, and nice little dugouts for officers’ messes -and for men to sleep in, and kitchens, larders, stores, etc. -All the time bullets whiz over or thud against the sand-bags, -but one feels quite safe there, although only a hundred -yards away from the Turks. It is a bit dangerous going -along the communication trenches by day, as in places -one can be seen, and from there can see the enemy, they -being so shallow. We soon got back along the beastly -long communicating trench to the Reserve, another one -farther along to the one we came. Then to the support -line, and up out into a nullah, and following that along -we came to the open place into which several nullahs ran, -known as “Clapham Junction,” which often gets shelled -pretty badly, and always under fire from “overs.” Thence -on to the main Krithia road, and across country to the -Pink Farm, where we found our horses waiting. They -were shelling the West Krithia road, and so we cut across -country to the West Coast road, and cantered home in -fine style, arriving back to breakfast at 9.30 a.m.</p> - -<p>Not much artillery fire came from the Turks during the -day, but the “75’s” were steadily plugging them in.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<h3><i>June 27th.</i></h3> - -<p>The attack is to take place to-morrow. I rode up to -Brigade H.Q. this morning. They were shelling a bit, -but not much.</p> - -<p>To-day is very quiet, but we are steadily sending shells -over. Asiatic battery seems to have been withdrawn, but -there is a very big gun somewhere that sends a 6-inch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> -over now and again to the neighbourhood of Pink Farm, -but it does not reach the beaches.</p> - -<p>In coming back from H.Q. this morning, shrapnel began -to burst over Pink Farm and behind, and I made my mare -do her best gallop away, and, in order to keep off the -road, cut to the right across country. We got amongst -a maze of disused trenches, which she absolutely refused -to jump; and to top it all, she kept getting her legs entangled -in telephone wires laid along the ground, causing me to -continually get off to disentangle her. She is an awful -fool over these things, and those damned shells seemed -to come nearer and nearer every minute. When I <i>did</i> get -on the road, I made her gallop as she has never galloped -before.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 28th.</i></h3> - -<p>A beautiful summer morning. This morning is the -morning of a battle. We are going to try to take a -Turkish redoubt on our extreme left, and to push our -line forward on the left, so as to curl somewhat round -Krithia. We call the redoubt “The Boomerang Fort.”</p> - -<p>H.M.S. <i>Talbot</i> comes in with destroyers and mine-sweepers, -and a Monitor—the <i>Abercrombie</i>, I think—and they take -up positions off Gully and “Y” Beaches on the West -Coast.</p> - -<p>A bombardment begins at 9 a.m., as I am issuing rations, -the <i>Talbot</i> and two or three destroyers hurling over their -large shells in an enfilading fire on to the Turkish trenches -and the redoubt, while all our guns on shore, with the -help of the French heavies and the now invaluable little -“75’s,” join in the concert.</p> - -<p>At 10 a.m., issuing finished, I take my glasses and walk -along the cliff, taking up a position on the side of an extra -piece of high ground, and sit comfortably there with my -back to it. Two 60-pounders behind me are firing away -at the same target, at which all the guns on land and sea -are concentrating their awful fire, a target of not more -than fifteen hundred yards of the Turkish line, with the -little redoubt at the back. Shells—large, small, black, -yellow, and white—burst in hellish confusion and awful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> -chaos, while Turkish batteries, raised to fury, reply, first on -to one battery, then another. But their fire seems controlled -by a flurried brain, for the shells burst harmlessly, -high in the air, or, except over our first line, of which they -have the range, accurately on no targets at all.</p> - -<p>Destroyers pour in broadsides, then swoop round, making -a circle, and take up a new position, letting forth viperous -rounds of broadside once more. A captive sausage-balloon -on a tramp ship sails high in the air, well out to sea, spotting -for the <i>Talbot</i> and the destroyers. It is by far the most -terrific and mighty bombardment that I have seen, and, -I think, appears to be so because of the large amount of -artillery concentrated on to so small a target.</p> - - -<h3><i>11 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The bombardment in no way seems to slacken, but I -clearly see the range increased, and hear the officer behind -me commanding the two 60-pounders, which are in action -just near, to increase the range. I watch carefully, and -as the smoke and dust quickly clear away from the redoubt -and Turkish front line, which had been subjected to this -terrible ordeal for two solid hours, I hear a roar of musketry, -mingled with the excited, rapid reports of machine-guns. -I actually see, in one part, a line of blue spurts of flame, -a curious effect, caused by the dark background of gorse -and trees. And then the sun reflects on hundreds of small -metal discs, and I see leap as one man from our trenches -rows and rows of khaki figures, each equipped with a -small shining disc fastened on to his back. On they -run, and swarm up the redoubt like packs of hounds, -and strangely—though perhaps I am too far away—I -see none fall.</p> - -<p>The scene has passed: I have seen a gallant charge, made -in the old style. In five minutes it is over and become -glorious history. The bombardment continues, and the -scene goes back to one of bursting flame, yellow, green, -white, and black smoke drifting away in the strong breeze -to the sea. The 60-pounders behind me steadily plunge -and recover as their charges are hurled forth on their -destructive journeys, with an ear-splitting roar. Suddenly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> -over the din I hear a familiar and fear-striking sound: -it is the deep boom-<i>s-h-r-i-e-k</i> of “Asiatic Annie,” and her -sister follows quickly after, and they are endeavouring -to get at the 60-pounders just behind and silence their -efforts. The 60-pounders take no heed, but go steadily -on. They are hard to hit, and are well dug in. I am -directly in the line of fire, and what missed them might -get me, and so, after one shell bursts damnably close, I -abruptly slither down the slopes of the cliff into the arms -of two smelly Greeks, who have been sitting below me, -shouting now and again gleefully, “Turkey finished!”</p> - -<p>Our camp gets a bad shelling. Two passers-by are -killed, and one of our transport men is buried in his dugout, -and when dug out is found dead.</p> - - -<h3><i>4.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Have been at work on supplies; the firing has died -down somewhat. Wounded are arriving, and the stretcher-bearers -are nearly dropping with fatigue and heat as they -carry their heavy burdens along to the dressing stations -on the beach. Prisoners are arriving. I count a hundred, -all looking frightened out of their lives; I heard we had -captured four hundred prisoners, three lines of trenches, -the Boomerang Fort, one four-gun battery, and twelve -Maxim guns.</p> - - -<h3><i>6 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>We are again bombarding heavily, and I hear my -Brigade is attacking, but cannot see anything but smoke -and dust.</p> - - -<h3><i>8 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>It has now quietened down somewhat, but Asia is sending -shells over to the 60-pounder battery once more.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 29th.</i></h3> - -<p>Early I ride up to Brigade H.Q. I find they have -moved forward. I ride on past Pink Farm, to the -little nullah beyond, and there find a trench has been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> -dug leading out from the end of the nullah which I am -told leads to Brigade H.Q. The trench, recently dug, -is quite 8 feet deep, and roomy enough for pack-mules -to pass along and men in single file to pass back -in the opposite direction. All the time bullets were -pinging and hissing overhead. The trench finally -ended in a junction of several trenches leading in -various directions to the firing-line. Dug in the sides -of this junction was our new Brigade H.Q., on the level -of the bottom of the trench, and taking advantage of a -rise in the ground in front, affording perfect cover, except -from a direct hit; on the left was Twelve Tree Wood, -the scene of a bloody fight in the early days, but now -used for artillery forward observation posts. Farmer, -our Brigade Major, was very busy, looking ill and tired. -Orderlies and telegrams were constantly arriving. The -Signal Office was working at full steam—dot-dash, dot-dash, -incessantly being rapped out on the buzzers. When -I see the signallers at work, the scene in a London telegraph -office always comes to my mind, and I contrast the circumstances -under which the respective operators work. -Farmer is continually being called to the telephone. -Officers on similar errands to mine are waiting. It is like -being in a City office waiting for an interview with one -of the directors.</p> - -<p>Not very bright news came from the Royal Scots; they -were badly cut up yesterday, losing all officers, except -Colonel Wilson and a subaltern. Steel is dying; he was -a great pal of mine, was very decent to me before the -landing, landing at the same time as myself. Captain -Tressider, who arrived a month ago, is dead. On our -left, however, complete victory for British arms.</p> - -<p>On coming back, part of the communication trench is -rather exposed and a sniper was busy after me, using all -his five cartridges, but the bullets sailed harmlessly overhead. -But the risk we Supply Officers take is not 100 -per cent. of what infantry go through. A battery is -sending high explosive shells over from Achi now, but -they are bursting on the east side of this beach, and after -firing a dozen shells they only slightly wounded a goat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>11.45 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>I was sarcastic too soon. Asia has just fired over an -8-inch, and it has passed over our “bivvy” with a horrible -shriek and exploded in the sea. They would not be able -to do this if our Fleet were here, and so we say “Strafe -the submarines!”</p> - - -<h3><i>7 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>All has been quiet on the front to-day, but two big -guns from Asia and one 18-pounder battery have been -worrying the French, and our 4.7 on the hill by De Tott’s -Battery and the big French guns have been replying. The -effect of the Asiatic big gun, when it hits anybody, is -terrible. I picked up a jagged, flat piece of metal -to-day, ¾ inch thick, 9 inches long, and 3 inches wide. -When these shells burst on our beach, these pieces of metal -fly in all directions, some reaching a hundred and fifty -yards away.</p> - -<p>The remainder of the Lowland Division is landing to-day. -Just two more Divisions, and I believe we should very -soon take Achi Baba, providing we had better supplies -of big-gun ammunition. We put in two bathes to-day. -We are most fortunate in getting sea bathing, as it keeps -sickness down. We issue eggs now and again to the -troops to endeavour to keep down dysentery. All ranks -get a chance of plenty of bathing, sooner or later. Asia -is very busy firing on the French batteries; later, at dusk, -they fire on hospital ships, but finding out their mistake, -desist. Evidently they are Turkish gunners, and not -German.</p> - - -<h3><i>9.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>A great gale has sprung up, and our canvas-sheet roof -looks like coming off. The dust is awful. Lightning is -playing over the sky and makes a very fine sight; -curiously, there is no thunder.</p> - - -<h3><i>10 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The gale is terrific now, and I call out to our servants -to come and hang on to our canvas roof, which is anxious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> -to sail away. After strenuous effort, with dust choking -us, and all of us swearing and then laughing, we secure -the roof and turn in.</p> - - -<h3><i>June 30th, 1 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>A shriek and a loud explosion awaken us, and Carver -says it is a high explosive howitzer from Asia. It has -passed over our “bivvy” and exploded on the beach. -The ordinary long-range shell seems to miss our “bivvy” -on account of the angle of trajectory.</p> - -<p>But when a howitzer fires the trajectory is such that -it could easily get our “bivvy.”</p> - - -<h3><i>2.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>We are awakened by our roof blowing off, and up we -have to get again and fix it. The gale fortunately is dying -down, although the wind is pretty strong.</p> - -<p>When we awoke this morning we were told that they -had put several shells over in the night, and one in the -Main Supply depot has unfortunately killed a man.</p> - -<p>The result of the battle two days ago was good, the -29th Division pushing forward about three-quarters of a -mile, and Krithia should soon be ours. The Turks counter-attacked -last night in mass, but very half-heartedly, and -lost heavily. This morning four hundred Turks were seen -coming up in front of the French on our right, but the -French “75’s” got amongst them, and they ran and ran -for quite a mile, with the French shells bursting all amongst -them, two a second. I should say very few of those -Turks were left. The 60-pounder on the cliff got in a few -as well. Three 60-pounders are out of action, waiting for -new springs from England, and they have been waiting -a devil of a time. The Turks are wonderful fighters on -the defensive, with the geographical advantage all in their -favour, but absolutely lack dash in the attack.</p> - - -<h3><i>12 noon.</i></h3> - -<p>A French battleship is coming in with the usual escort -of destroyers and mine-sweepers, looking like a duck with -her ducklings. Evidently she is going to punish Asia.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span></p> - -<p>The smell of dead bodies and horses is attracting the -unwelcome attentions of vultures from Asia. They are -evil-looking birds, with ugly heads and enormous wings, -and circle round and round overhead. Sometimes Tommies -pot at them with their rifles, but get into trouble for doing so.</p> - -<p>The smell of dead bodies is at times almost unbearable -in the trenches, and chloride of lime is thrown over them. -I know of no more sickly smell than chloride of lime with -the smell of a dead body blended in.</p> - -<p>In the fire-trenches the Turks will not allow our men -to bury the dead unless a special armistice is arranged. -In consequence, in the dead of night our men volunteer -to creep out, tie a rope round a body which may be too -near them to make the atmosphere bearable, and then -rush back, haul the body in, and bury it in the trench, -or they will soak the body in petrol, go back to their -trenches, then fire into the body—the white-hot bullets -soon setting the petrol on fire, and the bodies in this dry -climate quickly get cremated.</p> - -<p>Several barges were sunk by last night’s gale, and one -pinnace set on fire by last night’s shelling.</p> - - -<h3><i>3 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The French battleship is now firing on Asiatic batteries -very heavily, and it seems impossible that any one could -live under her fire.</p> - - -<h3><i>5 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Asia starts firing light shrapnel over, which we don’t -mind at all. As long as they do not fire that heavy stuff, -which is on you before you can duck, they can pop away -all night.</p> - - -<h3><i>5.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Asia firing heavy stuff on French lines. Now they have -pitched one bang into the hospital. I—thinking every -minute one will pitch in our depot—hurry up everybody, -and they work with a will, taking cover when the shriek -comes. Now they fall on the beach and splinters fly -around us—it’s damnable! The corporal at 5.45 reports<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> -forage finished, which is a relief, as we can get to our -dugouts.</p> - -<p>On the way across to my dugout I hear the shriek coming, -and there is no place to take cover, and the suspense is -a bit nerve-trying. With a terrific bang it falls in the -hospital, but the hospital is now clear of men.</p> - - -<h3><i>6 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Safe in our dugout now, and one passes over us into -the sea. Now they are falling on the beach. Nearly -everybody is under cover.</p> - - -<h3><i>7 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Shelling stopped, and we are allowed to have some rest.</p> - -<p>As Williams has to go to Brigade H.Q., I offer to show -him the way, the H.Q. having moved forwards.</p> - -<p>We start off at 8.30 p.m. and ride at a good smart trot, -as we are a bit nervy of Asia sending one of those horrible -big shells over. But all is quiet, and we arrive at our -Brigade dumping-ground, about three-quarters of a mile -in front of Pink Farm. (Pink Farm is practically razed -to the ground now by shell fire.)</p> - -<p>We leave our horses with an orderly, who ties them up -under cover and takes cover himself. Stray bullets are -flying over now and again, and we get down into the nullah -and go along it up the communication trench. After -about half a mile of it, we pass an R.A.M.C. orderly, who -says, “Keep your heads low, sir, as you pass that point,” -pointing a little farther along, “as there is a sniper -watching there.” Of course he is wrong, suffering from -“wind up,” and what he thinks are snipers’ bullets are -“overs” passing through a gap in the side of the trench. -We hurry along, heads well down, as bullets are pretty -free overhead. After another half-mile we come to -Headquarters. The Staff are just finishing dinner in their -dugout—beautifully made by the Engineers. The Brigade -Major is at the telephone, and later the General gets up -and talks over it. D.H.Q. are speaking at the other end, -discussing some G.S. point, just as if two business men -were discussing the price of some contract.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span></p> - -<p>After the General resumes his place at the head of the -table, the Brigade Major on his left-hand side, next -the Signal Officer, on his right hand, the Staff Captain, the -Brigade Machine Gun Officer and a Major of the R.N.D., -who had recently arrived. Williams and I are seated at -the other end. The dugout is lit by an acetylene lamp, -and Miller, the Staff waiter and chef combined, is standing, -acting butler.</p> - -<p>Outside the “ping-ping” of bullets goes on incessantly.</p> - -<p>Sitting there round the table, smoking and chatting, I -could not but compare the scene with that of the after-dinner -coffee and cigars at a dinner-party, when the ladies -have gone to the drawing-room. The conversation is -also witty and bright, with no mention of war.</p> - -<p>Miller is a character of his own. He is as dignified as -a real butler would be, and yet a Tommy of the old school, -through and through. But instead of black cut-away -coat and side whiskers, he wears khaki trousers rather -hanging over his ankles, and a grey shirt open in the front—for -the heat is excessive—and sleeves rolled up. He -always embarrasses me, for every time I happen to look -his way he catches my eye and beams benevolently on -me. I suppose it is because I look after the Tommies’ -tummies. Lightning now begins to play about the sky, -which gets rather cloudy, and then “L” Battery, just to -our right, barks out suddenly. That arrests my thoughts -and brings me back to reality. “Y” Battery starts, and -then the darling little Soixante-quinze, and bullets begin -to fairly hiss over. A hell of a shindy! Our mission over, -we rise to go. We salute the General, who says good-night, -and off down the trench, keeping our heads very -low instinctively, though really it is unnecessary.</p> - -<p>Lightning is now flashing all over the sky, and what -with the flashes and roar of the batteries near by and the -pitch darkness that comes immediately after a lightning -flash, the walk back along that trench, one whole mile -of it, was most weird and Dante-esque. Now and again -bullets hit the bank on our left, but most of them are -going over. We pass troops coming up, and later see a -man sitting down at the side of the trench, and finding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> -that he had been hit in the wrist (lucky devil!), we take -him along with us. Arriving at the nullah, we find another -man who has been hit at the dump, in the leg, and we -send them to the dressing station behind Pink Farm.</p> - -<p>We see the transport is all right at the Brigade dump, -mount our horses, which have been tied up in an awful -tangle, making us use some “’orrid language,” and then -“forrard away.” Off we go back, with “overs” pretty -free around, and Turkish shells screaming over, well on -our right.</p> - -<p class="b2">The lightning frightens our horses somewhat, and blinds -us after each flash. It is incessant, and lights up the -Peninsula in detail, but no thunder follows. We hope -that Asia will let us go home in safety. She does, but -half an hour after we arrive home, and when everybody -except night-workers and guards and pickets have turned -in, heavy shells come over, and at the rate of two an hour -they continue all night, and so our night’s rest is not as -good as it might be.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="JULY">JULY</h2> - - -<h3><i>July 1st.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">On</span> duty at depot at 6 a.m. I find one shell has pitched -in my Supply dump during the night, leaving a jagged -splinter a foot long, and 4 inches in its widest part. -Ugh! those naval shells. At eleven o’clock shelling starts -again, and we have it hot and strong for an hour and a -half. The transports get it as well from the hill, and one -ship nearly gets holed. Moon, one of the Signal Officers, -riding up the beach has his horse killed under him, and -he himself is wounded in chest and leg. Not seriously, -but he looks pale and frightened. Very few casualties, as -people keep under cover pretty well. During the shelling, -this morning, one of the hospital marquees catches fire, -but not through the shelling, and is burnt to the ground. -A Turkish prisoner had dropped a smoking cigarette on -some muslin. The marquee contained Turkish wounded, -but I think that they were all saved. Joy of joy! Allah -be praised! and glory be to God! a real plum cake and -chocolate just arrived from home. What joy to get your -teeth into a slice!</p> - - -<h3><i>Evening.</i></h3> - -<p>Since noon the day has been quiet, and Asia has left -us alone. Over Imbros the golden sun is slowly setting, -and above, the clouds are a lovely orange red. A strong -wind is blowing in from the sea, which is very rough, -necessitating the suspension of the landing of supplies -and ammunition. Casualties in Monday’s battle were -2,500, Australians and New Zealanders included. These, -at Anzac, engaged enemy while the 29th Division attacked, -in order to keep some of them away from us. They, however,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> -made no progress their side, and were not expected -to. Their casualties were 500. A Turkish officer who -was captured said that if we had pressed forward all along -the line we should have taken the hill, as reinforcements -of one division that the Turks were expecting did not -arrive. They have since arrived. However, this may -have been a yarn. Last night was very quiet.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 2nd.</i></h3> - -<p>I go up to Brigade H.Q. before breakfast, leaving my -mare in the nullah in front of Pink Farm, where the Brigade -Staff’s horses are stabled. The General’s groom, now -knowing my mare well, gives her breakfast, good cool -water from a well which has just been found there, oats -from the Argentine, and hay from Ireland. As I walk up -the trench I feel very limp and weak. Something is wrong -with me. Half-way up the trench, I see part of the parapet -which has been knocked down by a shell recently, and -from there obtain a good view of our trenches and Sphinx-like -Achi Baba. She is almost human, and in my imagination -appears to be smiling at the vain efforts of our little, -though never contemptible, Army to conquer and subdue -her. I shake such thoughts off. I am run down, and in -consequence imagine things worse than they are. Arriving -at Brigade H.Q., I find the General and Staff up in the -trenches, and talk to Brock, of the Gypy Army, the Staff -Captain. He tells me all about the Sudan—how he has two -months’ leave and is spending it on Gallipoli. What a -place to spend a holiday! He reads my thoughts, and -says, “People in Egypt do not realize what things are -really like out here.” He then tells me that lately orderlies -and others have been disappearing in a curious way. A -driver last night was sent up the gully with two mules -to fetch a watercart. Neither driver nor mules returned.</p> - -<p>On the way back from Pink Farm I call on the R.N.D. -armoured cars and see a friend. Then to the beach. -While issuing, shells burst on the top of the high ground -and back of the beach. Feel rotten, and so turn in for -a rest. Sea very rough, and we are unable to land stores, -etc. Rather cloudy day, cold and windy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>7 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Sixty-pounders on our right start firing again on to -the hill, and Asia answers back with that 7·5-inch. Shells -come screaming over to our cliff, and we have to take -cover again.</p> - -<p>Doctor has given me medicine, and I feel a bit better, -but horribly nervy and jumpy.</p> - -<p>Brigade coming back to-morrow.</p> - -<p>My complaint is only bilious attack, and when one is -like that, shells make one jump. Nearly everybody is -getting jumpy, however, as we are so exposed and get -no peace day or night. Several men and officers are being -sent away for a rest. There is rumour that when the -hill is taken the 29th Division is going to be withdrawn -for a complete rest. Things will be much easier here -when the hill is taken. At present it is <i>awful</i>. Oh! for -tons and tons of ammunition. Buck up! you workmen -at home. The army with the most guns and unlimited -shells wins in modern war. You should see the damage -the dear little French “75’s” make, and they pop off -day and night. God knows what we should have done -without them.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 3rd.</i></h3> - -<p>Turks shell transport this morning, but no damage -done. Feeling very run down and seedy, and doctor -orders me away to Alexandria for a rest, but I do not -think I shall go, as I should be fit in a day or so, if only -they would stop shelling on the beach; we could then -get exercise. Men fall ill day by day through having to -continually lie in their dugouts and then go out in hourly -fear of “Asiatic Annie’s” shells. It is much worse over -in the French camp by Morto Bay.</p> - -<p>The doctor says I have to catch the 2.30 boat for Lemnos. -I tell him that I have decided not to go. He replies that -in the Army you are under two forms of discipline—one -when on the Active List, and one when on the Sick List; -that I am on the Sick List, and that until an M.O. -certifies that I am fit for active service my O.C. will be -an M.O., whose orders I am bound to obey; that he has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> -certified me as sick, for the Army cannot have men on -the Peninsula who feel faint when they walk ten yards. -This eases my conscience; I was beginning to feel like -a man who was getting “cold feet,” and I tell him so. -He tells me that a sick man always gets “cold feet” from -shelling, and that it is due to his being a sick man more -than to the shells.</p> - -<p>So I proceed to catch the 2.30 boat. What are my -honest feelings? I do want to stay and stick it out, -and yet I want to go. There, I am quite honest about -it—the two thoughts are equally blended. I go down to -the beach along the Red Cross Pier, on to a lighter bobbing -about in a rough sea, and then I wait. Sick officers and -men dribble down steadily, each with a label attached to -his tunic; my label has written on it “Syncopal attacks.” -I look enviously at the labels on which are inscribed different -kinds of wounds. By comparison with their inscriptions, -mine reads like another title for “cold feet,” and I long -to get up and walk back up to the beach.</p> - -<p>We are towed away out to a little steamer called the -<i>Whitby Abbey</i>, in charge of a good fellow, a “pukkah” Naval -Lieutenant. I sit on deck and watch the land gradually -get further and further away. Krithia looks but a short -walk from “W” Beach, yet it is well within the Turkish -lines. Never before did I realize what a little insignificant -bight of land do we hold on the Gallipoli Peninsula, and -Achi Baba looks impregnable. Tommies on board are -telling each other how they came by their respective wounds. -A few Punjabis, wounded, sit apart philosophically and -say nothing. Officers in wardroom, mostly wounded, have -tea and chat shop. I, not wounded, and A.S.C., sit in a -corner by myself.</p> - -<p>We arrive at Lemnos about 8 p.m. and enter the harbour -that I was in last April. What a lot has happened since -those days, and what ages it seems ago! We go alongside -a hospital ship, the <i>Sicilia</i>, and our stretcher cases are taken -off on to the ship. Have a look through the port-hole -and see a very big saloon full of beds and doctors, orderlies -and very smart and efficient nurses busily in attendance. -Then we go nearer into the shore and get on to a pinnace,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> -and go to a pier. Here three of us—namely Weatherall, -Williams, of the Royal Scots, and myself—get into an -ambulance motor and are driven inland, and arrive at -the Australian hospital. Then we go into the orderly tent, -and a sergeant takes down our names, etc., and religion. -Religion! Let us talk of religion when all Huns are exterminated. -Then a pleasant-looking Australian Captain -comes in, diagnoses my case, and says “Milk diet,” which -is entered in a book.</p> - -<p>We are then taken to another group of three marquees -joined together, full of wounded Tommies in bed. Then -a Major Newlands, one of the leading surgeons of Australia, -comes in and sees me, and after a cup of tea we go to sleep—at -least, we are supposed to. Several of the Australians -are chatting, and it is interesting listening to them. -Suddenly one of the wounded stirs in his sleep and says -“One, two, three, four; one, two, three, four,” several -times, and finishing by “One, two, three, four,” and then -a pause, and then “Five,” said with a sigh of relief. He -sits up in bed, and making the row that one makes with -one’s mouth when urging on a horse, he says, “Go on.” -One of the orderlies goes over and gently puts his head back -on to the pillow. He was fast asleep, and was going over -in his dreams the taking up of ammunition to the trenches.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 4th.</i></h3> - -<p>I and three other officers are in a ward with Tommies, -for the hospital is overflowing. Orderlies bring around -basins of water to wash, and then breakfast of bread and -milk. Then the Major comes round and sounds me pretty -thoroughly, and orders me to stay in bed until further orders.</p> - -<p>Lunch: rice and milk. Very hot; nothing to smoke. -Flies damnable, and I find myself actually longing to get -back to work on the Peninsula. But I do certainly enjoy -at present the relief of being away from shells and bullets -and the horrors of war.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 5th.</i></h3> - -<p>Awakened early by one of the wounded crying loudly -for a doctor. The poor chap had been hit in the leg by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> -an explosive bullet and had a pretty bad wound. He -was in great agony, and amongst other things cried out, -“What a war; and this is what they do to me!” and then -he made a continual cluck with his mouth that one makes -by putting one’s tongue to the roof of one’s mouth and -drawing it away when annoyed.</p> - -<p>During the morning he was pretty bad, and crying and -groaning, but became quite quiet, cheerful, and confident -when the doctor arrived. However, gangrene had set in, -as he had been four days lying on the battlefield before -he was found, and he died suddenly at twelve o’clock. -A Tommy breaks the silence by saying, “Poor Alf ’as -snuffed it.” We were all very quiet for a bit, after they -came in and neatly rolled the body in a sheet, and, placing it -on a stretcher, carried it away. But after a bit a cheerful -atmosphere comes over us, and we four officers “ragged” -round, the Tommies enjoying the fun. Why be morbid -about death? We’ve all got to go through it. I am -allowed to get up at two o’clock, and went and had tea -on board the <i>Aragon</i>. This was the ship that my original -Brigade Staff came out on, with the Worcesters and Hants.</p> - -<p>The old associations that I had with the <i>Aragon</i>, through -so many officers that I had become friendly with and who -have now gone West, depressed me somewhat, and I was -glad to leave. At every turn I am reminded of those -days in April, and while walking along the upper deck -I could almost see the ghosts of those cheery men who -marched round and round of a morning to the music of -popular airs played on a piano by a gifted Tommy.</p> - -<p>I hear that “W” Beach was bombarded this morning. -About five hundred shells came over, the heaviest bombardment -the beach had ever had. The harbour and -island have changed completely since I was here last; -great camps, French and English, have sprung up on shore, -and the harbour is full of French and English warships -and transports and their attendant small craft.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 6th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is funny hearing the bugles again, and looking round -the camps, one might be on one’s fourteen days’ annual<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> -training. I am very rheumaticky, but getting fit fast, -but am going to be sent to Alexandria for a few days’ -change. I hope to get back to the Peninsula before the -29th Division go, for I hear they are going to be relieved -shortly, and I want to be with them at the end.</p> - -<p>The 38th Brigade of the 13th Division has arrived here, -and the rest of the Division is following. I think that -is the Division which is going to relieve us. It is curious, -because I was in that Division as Second-Lieutenant.</p> - -<p>At five o’clock the motor ambulance comes for us, and -we go down to the British Pier. They have made two -piers, one for the French and one for the British, and they -are the centre and hum of life all day and all night. -Troops arriving, troops leaving for the Peninsula, wounded -arriving back from the Peninsula and wounded being sent -off, after a brief stay in the Mudros hospitals, back to -the bases, either Cairo, Alexandria, Malta, or England.</p> - -<p>And then, of course, stores and ammunition are continually -being unloaded and reloaded, and all nations -seem to be engaged in the work—black, brown, and white. -It looks utter confusion, and yet I suppose it is not. The -French seem to be much better at system than the -British.</p> - -<p>I think the Australian Hospitals are better than the -British. They have first-class surgeons, and the orderlies -are splendid.</p> - -<p>The Australians are a wonderful race, and the physique -of the men is splendid. Everything they do is done -thoroughly. They lack discipline as we know it, yet have -a discipline that is not so common with us, namely, a -rotter and waster is not allowed to comfortably exist. -They are an exceptionally formidable weapon, for when -they fight they go on like wild men, never showing fear -or attempting to go back. They perform the most extraordinary -and hair-raising deeds that history can record, -all the time to a flow of very sanguinary and strong -language. What a superb Army! Admirable spirit; -pride in their race and country and Mother Country. -Cheery and merry all the time, having a very keen sense -of humour.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span></p> - -<p>As we came off in a pinnace, with lighters lashed on -either side conveying wounded, the 38th Brigade of the -13th Division, part of the first of Kitchener’s New Army, -were embarking on pinnaces and boats towed behind to -go on board destroyers to be taken to the Peninsula. They -were dressed in light drill khaki, with short knickers, -putties, and helmets, and their packs, blankets, and ground -sheet strapped to their backs, looking exceptionally smart -and business-like. They are very fine men, above the -average of the British Regular Tommy, and brigaded -together appear to be troops of the high standard of our -first line. One of course could only judge by personal -appearance and the ordinary parade drill, which is as perfect -as could be, but the near future will prove whether they -have the fighting power of troops like the 29th Division. -If so, then Britain has become the leading Military Power -in the world, as well as the leading Naval Power.</p> - -<p>We came alongside the hospital ship, the S.S. <i>Neuralia</i>, -a fine boat of the British India Line. Arriving on board, -we were welcomed by a nurse, and Wetherall, a Royal -Scots officer, and myself were given a cabin, and after a -wash we go down to dinner. Imagine our feelings when -we were shown to a fine table daintily laid for dinner, -waited on by Singalese dressed in white, long-skirted coats, -white trousers, and curious wide-brimmed hats decorated -with blue. Go to bed very early, but cannot sleep much.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 7th.</i></h3> - -<p>Got up just before 6 a.m. and found that the ship had -weighed anchor. It is a beautiful morning, and the sea -and green hills of Lemnos look very fresh. We pass slowly -through the Fleet, which looks very formidable, yet which -at present is unable to help us on our way. So out of the -harbour to sea.</p> - -<p>The past seems now like a horrid dream, as one lives -idly on board in every luxury that one could have.</p> - -<p>At times I feel a shirker, yet when a medical officer -sends one off the Peninsula his orders take precedence of -an order of one’s superior officer on the Active List, and -once you have left you are passed on from doctor to doctor<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -and clearing station to hospital, and one’s future remains -in the Medical Authorities’ hands.</p> - -<p>Personally I am feeling much better, the fainting feeling -having left, and the rheumatism nearly so. But war is -so horrible that I wish it was all over. I’ve seen more -of the horrible side than some of those in the fire-trenches, -who sit comparatively safely there until the attack (this -only applies to the unique situation in Gallipoli), and then -with one objective in mind, namely to get another trench -in front, they leap out and charge.</p> - -<p>Most of them say the feeling is exhilarating and glorious, -and those of the slightly wounded say they felt, when -wounded while running on cheering, as if some one suddenly -hit them with a hot stick. However, the risk I have run is -not nearly so great as infantry run; but in future give me -gunnery every time, they having the most thrilling and -interesting work to do of any branch of the Service. However, -let us hope our future will not hold war and its -horrors in store for us.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 8th.</i></h3> - -<p>This is an ideal ship for a hospital ship, luxuriously -fitted with cabins and saloons. The ship is painted white, -with a red band running all round and a large red cross -in the centre on either side. At night a large red cross -of electric globes is illuminated, and the great ship, lit up, -makes a pretty sight. We had a burial yesterday, stopping, -and a great hush falling over the vessel as the body was -shot over the side and fell with a big thump and splash -into the sea, resting on the surface a few seconds and then -slowly sinking. I thought of the words of Prince Henry -in “Henry IV,” Part I: “Food for worms, brave Percy,” -but the word “fishes” should be substituted for “worms.”</p> - -<p>A great number of wounded men sleep on deck, and, -by Jove! they do look glad that they are out of it for -a bit, although they want to get back after a change—some -of them.</p> - -<p>All the nurses are dears, dead keen on their job. I am -not wounded, so I don’t like talking to them.</p> - -<p>The badly wounded officers are in beds in a large saloon,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -and one can look over a balustrade and see them. They -are patient, and they stick the monotony admirably.</p> - -<p>One fine chap, a Captain, has a lump of flesh torn -from his back by a bomb, and has to lie in one position. -As I pass along the gallery overlooking the ward at all -hours of the day I can see him, either calmly looking at -the roof, reading or dozing, and always in the same position, -in which he will have to lie for weeks. Bombs make -terrible wounds. My friend Cox, of the Essex, is on board. -He was the officer that I saw limping back after the battle -on the Wednesday after we had landed, and we have some -chats together about those thrilling days. He and his -officers were on the <i>Dongola</i>, from which boat we landed, -and I have mentioned how they played “The Priest of the -Parish.” I never want to play that game again. A good -percentage of those chaps have gone now. There are only -two officers in the Essex who have not been hit.</p> - -<p>Cox has been back to the Peninsula once, but is now -going to Alexandria, sick. I am nearly fit, but bored stiff, -and want to get back to my job. The sea is calm -and it is a lovely day, and awfully peaceful and quiet on -the ship.</p> - -<p>The stewards are very attentive; they are natives, as -are also most of the crew. I always think that the nigger -makes a better servant than the white man. Colonel -Bruce, of the Gurkhas, is on board wounded, and has his -servant with him. A ravine up the gully that he captured -is now called Bruce’s Ravine. This servant at the hospital -in Lemnos was allowed to sleep on the floor beside his -master’s bed, and if his master stirred in his sleep, he sat -up watching him intently.</p> - -<p>We all had to go before the Medical Board this morning, -a R.A.M.C. General at the head.</p> - -<p>We had another burial to-day.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 9th.</i></h3> - -<p>We arrive at Alexandria at 6 a.m. and berth alongside -about twelve. It is strange seeing the old familiar scenes -again. At one o’clock a hospital train comes alongside, -with all the carriages painted white with a Red Crescent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> -on, not the Red Cross. Curious that our R.A.M.C. should -use both the Red Cross and the Red Crescent! The -Australian sick and wounded are taken off and sent on -board this train, which leaves at three o’clock for Cairo.</p> - -<p>At eight o’clock we go off in ambulance motor-wagons -and are taken off to the German Hospital. It is a very -fine hospital, now of course British, and we are put to -bed and given cocoa.</p> - -<p>One of the officers of our party is suffering from a nervous -breakdown, and a brother-officer of his, an awfully decent -chap, who had been wounded in the arm, takes charge -of him just as one would a frightened child. In the motor-ambulance -the nervous broken officer put out his hand -quickly and made as if to rise, and the wounded officer -with his unwounded arm linked the other arm in his with -a reassuring look. I think little touches like that are -very fine. In the hospital one officer is completely off -his head, and has to have an orderly in attendance all -day and all night. Last night he shouted out in great -fear once or twice, imagining shells and Turks.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 10th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is now 9.30, and I have bathed and shaved and had -breakfast, and am in bed awaiting the doctor.</p> - -<p>They are wheeling bad cases to the dressing-rooms. A -hospital is most depressing.</p> - -<p>Went out in the afternoon and did some shopping.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 11th.</i></h3> - -<p>Very nice day. An Arab procession passes outside our -hospital, headed by a band making a most infernal din. -All blowing brass instruments as loudly as they can and -beating drums, and all marching anyhow. Difficult at -first to make out what the tune is, as it is such a discord, -but on listening intently we made it out to be Sousa’s -“Stars and Stripes.”</p> - -<p>Procession consists of a whole convoy of wagons loaded -with what looks like “Manchester goods.” What it is -all about no one but the Arabs appears to know.</p> - -<p>Found out afterwards they were going to a fair and they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> -were taking goods along to sell. Went out in afternoon -and called at Club. Saw Chief Padre of the Forces, Horden, -and had a long chat with him.</p> - -<p>Later saw Shuter, Captain of the H.A.C. “A” Battery. -Curious running across him.</p> - -<p>Called on Mrs. Carver at Ramleh for tea, and found -several convalescent officers there and a few other people.</p> - -<p>Lovely house and garden and hard tennis court. But -give me an English garden every time.</p> - -<p>Ramleh is very pretty, and is a very big suburb of Alexandria, -stretching along by the sea. Very fine white -mansions standing in lovely grounds. Also several lovely -public gardens, beautifully laid out. Much more picturesque -than the English public gardens. They have no railings -or walls around, and consequently no entrance by gates; -they simply join on and run into the neighbouring suburbs.</p> - -<p>Passed a very fine Arab cemetery, full of magnificent -mausoleums of marble which must have cost thousands.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 12th.</i></h3> - -<p>Went out in afternoon into town. Plenty of troops -about. Feel fit, and so applied to go back to Peninsula, as -the atmosphere in Alexandria is not unlike the feeling of -being in khaki in London with all your pals at the front.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 14th.</i></h3> - -<p>Went before Registrar at twelve, and sent into convalescence. -To report to-morrow morning.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 15th.</i></h3> - -<p>Left hospital.</p> - -<p>Go down to the docks. Alexandria is a wonderful place -now. Always one of the most cosmopolitan cities of the -East, she has now added the responsibilities of a military -base. Here, from her teeming docks, are fed the troops -in Gallipoli and Mesopotamia—and here may be seen at -all hours of the day and night great ships being loaded -by chattering and chanting natives with food and munitions. -Troopships also, swallowing up men or moving slowly -out into the harbour; tugs, lighters, colliers, and the like,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> -throng her watergates, and the quays present a vivid -picture of bright colours, as the gaily dressed natives go -about their work. Fussy trains puff alongside the ships -and disgorge men, mules, and horses, in never-ending -streams. Mountains of hay, bully beef, and biscuits are -stacked along the quays, and the rattle of gear and the -groaning of the great cranes fill the air with strange sounds. -And above it all, the fierce sun glares down on the hot -stones, and the pitiless, steely-blue Egyptian sky, inscrutable -and cloudless, spreads overhead like a vast dome.</p> - -<p>Leaving this hive of industry, I turn my steps to the -Regina Palace Hotel, where I am introduced to an Italian -family by Cox. Awfully jolly girls. Have some dancing. -Meet Neville, of South Wales Borderers, a friend of mine -in Birmingham.</p> - -<p>Go for motor drive into the desert with Gregory.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 20th.</i></h3> - -<p>Went out in the evening with Prince Adil in his yacht, -Henderson and our French friend. The Prince provided -food, consisting of cold dishes, cocktails in a Thermos -flask, and whiskies and sodas.</p> - -<p>It was delightful cruising about the harbour in moonlight -and skimming along the water, heeling right over -when we ran before the wind.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 21st.</i></h3> - -<p>Ordered to join <i>Seeang-Bee</i>, a filthy little tramp, packed -with troops. Fortunately for us, they are full up, and so -I am told to go on board the <i>Anglo-Egyptian</i>, a cleaner -boat. Find a draft of Gurkhas on board and a draft of -Sikhs. English officers; fine lot of men. About a dozen -officers all told on board. Sikhs a weird lot; now and -again a mysterious chant, sung by them, comes up from -the lower decks.</p> - -<p>In the morning had quite a touching farewell at the -hotel with all the Italian girls, the French children, and -my little friend the Russian Cossack, aged five years, and -their pretty French governess. I am getting to speak -French quite well now.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>July 22nd.</i></h3> - -<p>We were to start last night, but owing to submarine -scare we have not yet sailed.</p> - - -<h3><i>5 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The hospital ship <i>Sudan</i> has just come in, and the hospital -train, ambulance-lorries, and motor-cars are drawn up -waiting the wounded. I have been on board and have -spoken to one of the wounded officers, who tells me that -there have been two battles since I left, and that we have -made further advance, in the centre of our line, therefore -straightening it a little, but have lost very heavily. Also -he told me that the 29th Division are leaving Gallipoli, -and that one Brigade is at Lemnos or Tenedos.</p> - - -<h3><i>6.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>We sail, the Gurkhas and Sikhs giving their respective -war-cries, something like that of the Maoris which the -New Zealanders sing.</p> - -<p>Two other boats leave at the same time, the <i>Alaunia</i> -having 6,000 troops on board. We all steer different -courses on account of submarines.</p> - - -<h3><i>9.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The last post sounds, played excellently by a Gurkha, -and I turn in, sleeping on deck on account of the heat. -They are neat little men, these Gurkhas, something like the -Japanese, dressed in wide hats, shirts overhanging the short -breech, putties and black bandoliers; bayonets in black -cases, and their native weapon, the kukri, in a black case.</p> - -<p>Curiously enough, they are not British subjects at all. -They are natives of Nepal, governed by the Maharajah of -Nepal, and he is quite independent, except for having to -pay a salt tax to China. I believe, though, that this payment -has now stopped, or is about to stop. The Maharajah -lends his male subjects who enlist to the British Government, -and they train them as soldiers, in return having -them to fight our battles when necessary.</p> - -<p>Altogether there are about twenty battalions of 20,000 -men, and since the outbreak of war the Maharajah has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> -practically forced every able-bodied man to enlist. They -are good soldiers, but absolutely lost without their white -officers, for they are just like children.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 23rd, 9.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Sea rough and ship rolling. Ugh! I do feel ill.</p> - - -<h3><i>10.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Four blasts on the hooter call us all to boat drill, with -life-belts.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 24th, 8 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>We are passing Rhodes on our starboard, and are, therefore, -entering the danger zone for submarines. It is reported -that there are two about. No destroyer to escort -us, so I suppose we are safe.</p> - -<p>Feel much better now.</p> - -<p>Captain Koebel, of the Queen’s, on board; friend of -Parnell. Since outbreak of war he has been with Egyptian -Army, now going unattached to Gallipoli for his two months’ -leave. Taking his holiday by going into battle.</p> - - -<h3><i>7.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Had boat drill to-day. Gurkhas thoroughly enjoying -it. Gurkha guards posted all round the ship on lookout -for submarines, with orders to fire when one comes in sight. -They are watching intently, and I really believe would -rather appreciate the fun if one came along, so that they -could show off their marksmanship. We do not arrive at -Lemnos till five to-morrow afternoon, so we have still -plenty of time to be torpedoed. Passing plenty of islands, -but not a sign of a ship anywhere. Beautiful moonlight -evening. Skipper playing chess with Captain Simpson -of the Gurkhas. Other officers sitting about reading. -Only fifteen officers all told—white officers of the Gurkhas -and Sikhs, and a few unattached.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 25th.</i></h3> - -<p>Three months ago to-day the landing, and Achi Baba -is not taken yet.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>2 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Entering Lemnos Harbour.</p> - -<p>It is very hot now, and the water dead calm. The -harbour is full of transports and warships, and on shore -there are large camps in all directions.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 26th.</i></h3> - -<p>We are now moored alongside the <i>Seeang-Bee</i>, which -arrived almost simultaneously with us. She has 950 -troops on board, drafts, and others returning to duty. -No news from Gallipoli, except that things there are much -as usual. After August, I hear, the weather breaks up, -so that if something is not done in August, we shall have -great difficulty in landing supplies and ammunition. The -outlook is far from bright. Up to date the points are -with the Turk.</p> - -<p>An officious M.L.O. comes on board, and tells each of us in -as imperious a way as possible our respective destinations.</p> - -<p>I get on to the <i>Seeang-Bee</i>, and hang about waiting. I -find Morris on board, who was at the Regina Palace Hotel -with me.</p> - -<p>At six o’clock the M.L.O. comes on board again, and -after arranging for our departure, casually mentions that -he had heard that “W” Beach was heavily shelled last -night. He almost licked his lips as he spoke. He had -never even heard a gun fired himself. An R.N.D. officer -tells me that he has a great desire to chuck the M.L.O. -overboard. This officer is quite an interesting person; -went to France in the early part of the war in the R.F.C., -had a spill which laid him up for six months, and now is -in charge of a Machine Gun Section in the R.N.D.</p> - -<p>We get on board a small steamer, <i>Whitby Abbey</i>, and sail -over to the <i>Aragon</i>, the L. of C. Headquarters boat. A -very nice boat, the <i>Aragon</i>, fitted out with every luxury.</p> - -<p>At eight we push off, loaded to the boat’s limit with -troops, mailbags, watercarts, sand-bags, and ammunition.</p> - -<p>We pass through the host of transports and warships -that now crowd the harbour of Mudros. As we pass each -warship the sailors come running to the sides and cheer -and cheer. Shouts of “Are we downhearted?” etc.,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> -freely pass between us, and this inspiring demonstration -is repeated enthusiastically as we pass each great ship -of war. It is very nice of them. I think they feel it a -bit, being bottled up at Mudros. But it is all right; we -shall win, even if the war lasts ten years. Stick at your -training, you British Boy Scouts!</p> - -<p>We leave the hills of Lemnos, as we did on that memorable -evening of April 24th, three months ago, just as it -is getting dusk, the sun quickly setting in the sea. A -full moon rises, and on a calm sea we steam north.</p> - -<p>They provide some food for us on board, bully beef and -bread, and later we lie about and try to sleep.</p> - -<p>A very nice R.N.R. officer on board stands me a drink.</p> - -<p>Curiously enough, I came away from the Peninsula on -this boat on July 3rd, and the same man stood me a drink, -though he had forgotten. I suppose he regularly stands -a drink to all officers coming and going.</p> - -<p>At twelve midnight he is called up on deck, and I go -too and find that land is showing dimly in front. Dark, -depressing, mysterious land of adventure, heroism, and -death, and a chill feeling runs through me. It is the -reaction after having a good time in Alexandria, playing -soldiers with the little Italian boys and my little cropped-haired -Russian Cossack and their pretty French governess. -Oh, that little French governess!</p> - -<p>The officers and men crowd to the upper deck and bows, -and strain their eyes to the black outline in front. The -starlights are sailing up and down in the dark background, -from the Ægean to the Straits. A distant shriek is heard, -followed immediately by another, and two quick flashes -burst over the beach in front, followed by two sharp reports, -“c-r-r-u-m-p,” and the young R.N.A.S. officers, who have -been training for months, at last are within short measurement -of the real game of modern warfare.</p> - -<p>Then the land in front resumes its still mysterious outline, -until, as we get close, quiet figures can be seen moving -about on shore working at the unloading of lighters.</p> - -<p>We drop anchor and are informed that we shall disembark -in the early morning, and so lie down again and -sleep soundly till morning.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>July 27th.</i></h3> - -<p>We wake at five and go on deck, and the old familiar -sight of “W” Beach greets me, and I point out, to several -officers who ask me, the various points of interest. At -6.20 the R.N.A.S. people are informed that they have to -go back to Mudros, as they have come to the wrong place, -and at seven o’clock, with Captains Nye and Koebel and -Wilson, we go ashore in a wobbly lighter, which seems -about to turn over in a rather rough sea, and we come -alongside one of the piers.</p> - -<p>“W” Beach had altered somewhat. Large cemented -water reservoirs had been made by the Gypy Works Department -on the high land near our “bivvy,” and it seems -more congested and crowded than ever.</p> - -<p>I take the officers up to our “bivvy” and surprise the -others, who did not expect me, and I feel quite pleased -to get back—the same feeling one has when one gets -home to the family after a few weeks’ holiday. We have -breakfast, and I hear that the 13th Division are on the -shore, and that several of the officers of the 13th Divisional -Train are just along the cliff, and so go along to see them. -I found Frank Edey there, a friend of many years’ standing, -and this was the third time during the war that we had -run across each other unexpectedly. I was three months -with the 13th Division at Bulford, so it was nice seeing -them again. They are leaving soon for some unknown -destination, further up the coast.</p> - -<p>I find that “W” Beach has been heavily shelled on the -5th July, seven hundred coming over in four hours. They -are mostly high explosive shells, and make a nasty mess -of any victim which they find. To people working in -the various administrative departments, where they are -continually walking about in the open, the continual exposure -to high explosive shell fire is wearing on the nerves, -and cases of nervous breakdown here are becoming more -and more frequent. In spite of the most heavy shelling, the -administrative work has to go on, and at high speed too.</p> - -<p>I hear bad news about my old mare. She was killed -by a shell while I was away, on July 5th. She had been -an awfully good pal to me, and we had some good times<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> -together, and I think that her name should be put in -the Roll of Honour.</p> - -<p>Warham, the servant of Storey, of the 13th Division -Train, was blown up by a shell yesterday in his dugout -along the cliff. He was a good chap, and for a short time -had been my servant at Bulford.</p> - -<p>There has been but little shelling our way to-day—in -fact, everything seems extraordinarily quiet.</p> - -<p>At 6 p.m. we go down to the breakwater to bathe, and -I find Frank Edey there, and other Bulford pals. And -then, wonder of wonders, whom should I run into but my -friend of many years, the versatile Gordon Findlay-Smith. -The last time that I saw him was in Piccadilly Circus on -December 22nd, while motoring. We looked at each other -in amazement, and then burst out laughing. He has been -here ten days, and is in a beastly place which is shelled -every day, namely the Ordnance depot.</p> - - -<h3><i>8 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The night falls quicker now, but with the same lovely -colouring, and a full moon is shining.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 28th.</i></h3> - -<p>See my friends of the 13th Division this morning. At -twelve noon high explosive shells come over our camp -and kill six fine horses.</p> - - -<h3><i>4 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>On duty at Main Supply depot, and ugh! beastly high -explosive shells come over. One bursts in Ordnance depot -and blows two men to bits. Very glad when I am off -duty, but I would rather be here than in Alexandria.</p> - -<p>My Brigade has been away at Lemnos resting, but comes -back to-night. Nothing much has been done since the -battle of June 29th, which I saw, except the French have -straightened their line in accordance with our move.</p> - -<p>Everything is very quiet; even the French “75’s” -hardly fire a shot; but something big is afoot. Three -of our companies have their horse lines dug in at the foot -of the cliff in the lower road, half-way between “W” Beach<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> -and the bakery, past the Greek camp; and the cliff, which -is higher than in most places, affords almost perfect protection -for the animals. Officers and men live there, but -it is not a very sanitary spot to live in, what with the -manure and the flies and the heat. Occasionally, to make -the atmosphere more savoury, a dead horse or mule is -washed ashore, after having floated about for several days.</p> - -<p>Most of the animals which die or are killed are towed -out to sea and there sunk, either by the firing of bullets -into the carcass or by stones fastened to their legs. Many -carcasses are, however, in spite of all precautions, washed -ashore, causing great unpleasantness to all near who are -living dug into the cliff-side. One such decaying carcass -this morning, lying on the water’s edge half submerged, -aroused the ire of a Staff Officer, who immediately strafed -the officer living in the cliff-side nearest to the place where -it lay. He was politely told that “The Navy are responsible -for everything up to high-water mark,” and of course -could strafe no more. But the poor old Navy have their -hands pretty full, keeping the seas open for we on shore, -and it is rather hard lines on them to add to their heavy -responsibilities the keeping of the shores and beaches -clear of washed-up carcasses of poor old mules and horses -who have died for their country.</p> - -<p>Now and again a dead mule or horse is buried on land, -but we still, after over three months’ effort, are holding -such a small bit of land that room is very scarce and a -burial-ground for animals is out of the question.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 29th.</i></h3> - -<p>A hot day, rather gusty and dusty, and of course not -a cloud in the sky.</p> - -<p>My Brigade is back from Lemnos, and is along the cliffs -of the West Coast with H.Q. at the mouth of the gully -or the now famous nullah. West Coast cliffs now absolutely -honeycombed with dugouts, arranged in terraces as far -as possible. The whole tip of the Peninsula is alive and -teeming with troops and followers of all nationalities—British, -French, Senegalese, Greeks, Arabs, Sudanese, -Hindus, Gurkhas, Punjabis, and Sikhs.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span></p> - -<p>13th Division now moving off the Peninsula.</p> - -<p>Poor old Findlay up to his eyes in ordnance; fortunately -he was away when shell burst in his compound yesterday. -He says, “Gott strafe the Kaiser!” from morning to -night.</p> - -<p>Only half a dozen high explosive shells come over our -way to-day, but inland Turkish artillery has been fairly -active, but nothing much doing on the front. Aeroplanes -busily humming overhead. Beaches very busy, with all -kinds and manner of work day and night.</p> - -<p>Meet Fulford, pal of Birmingham hockey days, a few -years ago, and again of Salisbury Plain days of 1914, now -a chaplain in the 40th Brigade, 13th Division. Having -tea with him to-morrow. He tapped me on the shoulder -on “W” Beach, saying, “Thanks very much for the gloves, -Gillam.” I borrowed a pair of gloves from him on November -14th, had lost them, had sent him another pair, and -he had forgotten to write and thank me. I had not seen -or heard from him until to-day.</p> - -<p>Observation balloon up, captive to a steamer off the -Gully Beach, but little or no artillery firing on our part.</p> - -<p>13th Division of Kitchener’s Army have had their baptism, -but in defence, not attack; Turks had a taste of what -Kitchener’s Army is like.</p> - -<p>I believe in after-years the name of Kitchener will be -wreathed in a blaze of glory that will dim the lustre of all -other famous names in our history. Not only will we -beat the enemy with the splendid troops his genius has -created, but if his spirit still endures in the nation after -the war, we shall defy the world for all time, and in that -way form an impregnable barrier to the mad ambitions -of other States.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 30th.</i></h3> - -<p>Ride my new horse to-day along to the gully (nullah) -and see Brigadier-General Cayley. Awfully pretty at the -gully, with cliffs honeycombed with H.Q. and terraces -leading to them. Brigade now almost up to full strength -again, and Tommies enjoying bathing and domestic duties. -Tommy is a most lovable animal sometimes. Met Panton, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> -who is now D.A.D.M.S. to Division. He was wounded in -the leg in May, but is now quite fit. Talked of those -early days. Also see Fulford again. Come along top road -on cliff with Major O’Hara and Major Collier as far as -“X” Beach, when we ride down and finish the ride back -to “W” Beach walking along the lower road, for much -traffic was passing and going. Heavy shelling on “W” -Beach from high explosive gun on Achi, but most burst -into the sea. Plenty of fire to-day.</p> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_176a"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_176a_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_176a_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_176b"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_176b_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_176b_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">COAST LINE, CAPE HELLES.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_176c"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_176c_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_176c_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">A VIEW OF THE GULLY, CAPE HELLES, LOOKING TOWARDS -THE ENEMY LINES.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p>I think the 13th Division are going to attempt a landing -up the coast soon, but news is very scarce. Whatever is -on is being kept very secret. Hear that about five enemy -submarines have been caught out here in nets stretched -between two drifters, and blown up on contact. Only a -rumour though. The Navy keep very “mum” about -these things. I think one submarine has actually been -brought into Malta.</p> - -<p>Aeroplane falls into the sea; pilot and observer safe, -and both picked up. It glided down beautifully.</p> - -<p>I learn that a French ship was torpedoed while I was -away, but none of the crew was drowned, and ship was -empty of supplies.</p> - -<p>Findlay-Smith came to dinner. Awfully amusing hearing -him grousing about the shelling, just as he used to -grouse in the old days about such a thing as a train being -held up between Clapham Junction and Waterloo. It is -topping dining in our “bivvy” listening to the gentle -wash of the waves, and after dinner enjoying the view -of the sun setting behind Imbros, while we smoke and -have coffee. Guns from Asia seem to have been silenced. -Cannot see any signs of life on the plain of Troy, which -looks pretty peaceful meadow land! Can see it in detail -from here. They must have observing stations there, and -see all that we are doing, and hence the shelling of “W” -Beach.</p> - -<p>Farmer, Neave, and Balfour, of the 88th Brigade Staff, -have been sent home invalided. Hear that there is to -be a new landing further up, but when, I don’t quite know, -and that this time we shall land quite six Divisions. I -predicted in the early days that 250,000 men would be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> -found necessary to make this job a success; and troops -which have come and gone, and are coming, nearly reach -this figure. It is surprising what a little bit of land we -are on, just as if it was a small corner of the Isle of Wight.</p> - -<p>Fancy being able to take in at a glance our front lines -and the Turkish lines, Krithia, the West Coast, the Dardanelles, -and Asia’s mountains, and the formidable position -of Achi Baba, with its supporting ridges on either side. -That is what we can do with the naked eye from the edge -of the cliffs on either side of “W” Beach. And over three -months have now passed since we landed.</p> - - -<h3><i>July 31st.</i></h3> - -<p>While issuing this morning at depot, high explosive shells -come over from Achi. They burst in different places, -searching the beach. One bursts near Way’s depot, and -one man and two mules are hit, the man badly. Next -one on aerodrome. An interval of two or three minutes -passes between the arrival of each shell.</p> - -<p>Shortly after the one had burst near Way’s depot, I, -standing with issuers, drivers, G.S. wagons, A.T. carts, -N.C.O.’s and ration parties all around me, hear the shriek -of one coming straight at me, for it shrieks too long. -Those who say that, if killed by a shell, one never hears -the shriek of the shell that hits one, are quite mistaken—that -is to say, when being shelled by one, two, or three -guns at a time. In a bombardment, of course, the din -is so deafening that you can’t tell which shell is addressed -to you and which is not—and after a bit you don’t much -care. A deafening explosion and dense smoke, dust, and -stones, and I find myself locked in the arms of a transport -driver with my face buried in the stomach of a fat sergeant, -and mules kicking all round. Not a man hit, and the shell -five yards away. The nearest I have ever had. It had -burst in a mound of soft earth and right deep in the ground, -and that saved us. I look up, and all the others get -sheepishly to their feet, and I get out another cigarette -and smoke. I smoked six of them hard, and tried to be -facetious and to pretend that I did not care, but not one -man there could have been in a more miserable cowardly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> -funk than I was, while waiting for the next, which, however, -gave us a long miss.</p> - -<p>Later in the morning we got a few high explosive shells -from Achi. One pitched clean on the roof of our signal -offices, which is a timbered erection, sand-bagged, and -proof against splinter only. There the clerks work, tap-tap-tap -and buz-buz-buz to and from all over the Peninsula, -messages being sent and received every minute, almost -all the day and night, like a central telegraph office in -London. Down came the shrieking thing: a deafening -report; splinters of timber, torn sand-bags, dust, stones, -and smoke fly into the air, and then silence. A pause, -and men rush, not away, but to the ruined office. Nine -men and one Signal Officer have been killed outright. -Several wounded are carried up the cliff to the hospital. -Operators immediately get to work connecting up the -severed wires to new instruments. Improvised tables are -put in position. In half an hour a wire is sent off to G.H.Q. -that all is “O.K.,” and tap-tap, buz-buz is heard once -more, tapping and buzzing busily away, not for a weekly -wage, but—for the King. It was a near thing for old -Findlay in his office, twenty yards away.</p> - -<p class="b2">I rowed to a submarine this afternoon and went aboard. -Delightful sitting on deck and chatting to the Captain. -He has just heard good news from Persia, and we are all -cheery. Go up to Brigade H.Q., Gully Beach, and have -tea, and chat to battalions in rest on cliff-sides. While -away, hear shells from Achi screeching overhead for “W” -Beach, and feel therefore quite safe. The Ordnance had it -this afternoon.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="AUGUST">AUGUST</h2> - - -<h3><i>August 1st.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">Artillery</span> duels go on again to-day, and several high -explosive shells come over while I am on duty at the Main -Supply depot. This afternoon I am drawing forage for -to-morrow’s issue to the Division. We draw men’s rations -for the same day’s issue at six o’clock in the morning, -and forage at four in the afternoon before.</p> - -<p>Greek labour loads the wagons with the oats, maize, -and hay, which carry the forage three hundred yards away -to our depot of four dumps. When shelling is on the gang -of thirty to forty Greeks melts away, and often, when at -work checking each wagon, one finds when one looks round -but ten Greeks left. Then it is necessary to hunt round -behind and in amongst the large high and wide stacks -of grain and hay, where the missing Greeks are to be found -quietly hiding here and there in twos and threes. Some -are very good at sticking to the work, more so the boys -(as young as fifteen) and the elderly men, some of whom -are quite benevolent-looking.</p> - -<p>This afternoon, one or two shells coming close to us, -it was necessary for me to stop work for fifteen minutes -to make sure that no more were coming, and to place the -mules with their wagons behind the stacks of hay, which -afford perfect protection. I have never yet seen a shell -penetrate a wide stack of trusses of compressed hay. A -pause—no shells—and out we pop from our hiding-places -like rabbits, and load busily away once more. It is really -funny. Like a game of hide and seek.</p> - -<p>Panton dines with us to-night, but I have to leave immediately -after dinner, for I am again on duty at the depot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> -drawing extra supplies. These are now being drawn -nightly, to form a reserve depot in the gully, but a little -way up from Gully Beach, to be ready for us in case -we advance.</p> - -<p>As I walk across the high ground on the left of “W” -Beach looking towards Achi, I hear the booming of a -Turkish gun, and instinctively I know that the shell is -addressed either to me or in my direction, and accordingly -fling myself to the ground in a manner to rival the best -stage fall. The usual sound of the sky being rent in two -is followed by a deafening explosion, and dust and stones -fall on top of me. The smoke blown my way makes me -cough.</p> - -<p>I arrive at my depot; a man runs up and reports that -the shell has hit a dugout in which three of our supply -loaders live. I send a man back for Panton, and start -to run across to the dugout. I hear the heavens torn -asunder again. I fall flat behind boxes. The beastly -thing bursts in the hay. I wonder if the farmers at home -ever realized how we would bless their compressed trusses -of hay, as protection from shell fire. I run to the dugout. -Two men are lying dead. One man, wounded, is being -carried away by his comrades. Panton, who has arrived, -takes their identity discs. One cannot be recognized but -for his identity disc. I go over to depot and continue -my job of seeing the wagons loaded. I go to mount my -horse. As I am about to put my foot in the stirrup I -hear again the boom of a gun. I feel jumpy and duck. -I hear a laugh. It is from a driver. It is dark and -he can’t see who I am—or my blushes—for the boom I -heard was from a friendly heavy French gun over by -Morto Bay. I ride round the top road with Cooke, who -is waiting for me behind the dugout a little way up the -West Coast.</p> - -<p>We speculate upon the reason why the advanced depot -is being formed in the gully. If the landing further up -is successful, then the Turks are bound to retire from before -Achi, and the hill will at last be ours. At last! We -must therefore be prepared for an immediate advance. -Hence the advanced depot.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span></p> - -<p>We arrive at the gully, riding on to the beach down -the winding road. It is a beautiful starlight night. The -gully and its slopes are illuminated by a host of little lights -from the dugouts of various H.Q. signal stations, dressing -stations, etc., all unseen by the enemy; but from the sea -they look like the lights of a small fishing town nestling -in the shelter of gorse-covered irregular cliffs. I call at -Brigade H.Q. and then at a dressing station, where some -cheery R.A.M.C. fellows give me a whisky and soda. Afterwards -I accompany Cooke, who is in charge of a convoy -to fetch ammunition, up to Pink Farm. We ride up the -high road on to the high land, and after being stopped now -and again by the “’Alt, ’oo are you?” of a sentry, arrive -at the ammunition depot near Pink Farm, in Trafalgar -Square. There we load up with ammunition, which we -cart along Artillery Road, meeting the gully half-way, -dip down, and, our loads disposed of, we ride back home, -arriving there at 2 a.m. Cooke persuades me to stop at -his dugout and have a “nightcap,” which I do.</p> - -<p>He has built for himself a nice cosy room, dug in on the -cliff-side. Sitting there in the early hours of the morning, -I am reminded of that whisky and soda most men enjoy -at 2 o’clock in the morning when arriving home from a dance. -He has made a dug-out stable for his horse, and invites -me to leave mine there for the night, to save me the fag -of taking him back to his lines, and to enable me to take -the shortcut back to the dugout, which is but a little way -along the cliff towards “W” Beach. I therefore tie up -my horse, water him, and give him a little hay, and go -back along the cliff to bed.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 2nd.</i></h3> - -<p>I am up at 6 a.m. on duty at the depot, drawing men’s -rations from the main supply for to-day’s issue. I pass -our lines and find my horse, which I had left at Cooke’s -stable last night, standing in his proper place again. He -had disagreed with my leaving him in a strange stable and -had found his way back to his own lines and into his proper -place by some means only known to horses. A horse is -not such a fool as some people imagine.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span></p> - -<p>On account of shelling, I have lately managed to get -my issuing of rations to units all finished by 9.30 a.m., -and to-day, no sooner had I finished than over the brutes -came. There is a lot of artillery work about to-day, and -we have pushed a little in a very small part of our centre, -just to straighten a bulge in our line. Three cruisers have -been in action up off the coast above “Y” Beach, bombarding -the Turkish right part of line, and right over the -Peninsula on to Asia. It is nice to hear the sound of -the guns of battleships again, but I do not think that -their guns do the damage against positions on land -that I imagined they would do before this campaign. -The trajectory of their shells is too low, especially considering -the geographical formations on this Peninsula, -which provides good cover everywhere for the enemy. -There is great anticipation in the air about this coming -landing, but nobody knows when and where it is to -take place.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 3rd.</i></h3> - -<p>Aviatik aeroplane comes over this morning and drops -a few bombs. Later in the day high explosive howitzer -shells come over from Asia. Heavy artillery duels now -going on. Everything the same, but shelling a bit heavier -on “W” Beach.</p> - -<p>We hope each day that the great fight will come soon -and end this show, but each day seems the same as yesterday, -and we can only anticipate that to-morrow will be -the same as to-day.</p> - -<p>Two officers buried in dugout at Supply depot by shell -this morning. Both rescued and carried off to hospital. -Shells over all the time we are issuing, and it is terribly -trying, as there is absolutely no cover for us, and we, of -course, have to stick it.</p> - -<p>Our S.S.O., Major Shorto, just managed to get behind -stack of hay in time, out of the way of an “Asiatic -Annie.” Two cruisers come up in the afternoon and -heavily shell left of Achi Baba with broadside after -broadside, and it is encouraging to hear their welcome -boom.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span></p> - -<p>After dinner I ride over to Gully Beach with Cooke and -Petro, via top road. Not much fun riding by day now.</p> - -<p>Very quiet in front, but at 10 p.m. firing begins, and we -can distinctly hear the explosions of those terrible weapons—bombs. -It dies down after a while.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 4th.</i></h3> - -<p>Perfect, calm sea; hot day. The big gun at Achi -Baba left us alone while issuing this morning, but in its -place a howitzer on Asiatic side kept us alive and steadily -dropped shells around us. Phew! I am glad when that -morning issuing is over, for every morning regularly now -we are shelled.</p> - -<p>Later in morning, she tried dropping them on edge of -cliff, and reached once or twice. Not much damage, and -a howitzer gives plenty of warning. But one cannot so -easily gauge where their shells are going to drop as with -the other guns.</p> - - -<h3><i>2 o’clock.</i></h3> - -<p>Shelling by big guns from Achi has now started, and -they are dropping on the beach, and everybody is taking -cover for dear life. Now howitzer from Asia is joining in. -Nothing much happened to-day, except heavy artillery -duels, and with the anniversary of the war we find -ourselves not much further forward than we were two -months ago.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 5th.</i></h3> - -<p>Another hot, depressing, monotonous and nervy day. -Was officer of the day at the Supply depot, and, as usual, -shells came over. A fuse whizzed near our heads with -a most weird singing noise. French battleship at entrance -bombarded Asia, and two British cruisers on West Coast -bombarded Achi.</p> - -<p>Something big is going to happen soon. I may add -that this sentence has been passed from mouth to mouth -for the last week, and if that something does not happen -soon we shall all be in a devil of a fix on this tiny little -tip of the Peninsula.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span></p> - -<p>So dangerous has it now become to walk about in the -open that a communication trench has been dug from -“X” Beach right to the firing-line, and so troops landing -on “W” Beach can walk round the road at the foot of -cliffs and straight up this trench to fire-trenches. Most -of the transport by day goes by this road, only venturing -in the open on high land by night.</p> - -<p>Our depot, however, still remains in the same place, -exposed to and ranged on by enemy’s guns, with the result -that we get shelled regularly every day, and the sigh of -relief that will go up to heaven when we have orders to -move will echo from Asia to the Ægean.</p> - -<p>Ride up to Gully Beach with Cooke and Farquhar and -see Brigade, and after, ride up the gully and across to Pink -Farm. Nothing doing on front. We enjoy the ride and -exercise. Devilish difficult getting a decent ride nowadays. -At Pink Farm, bullets as usual chanting their -pinging song.</p> - -<p>On the way back a Monitor up the coast starts firing -heavily, making a huge flash, lighting up for a big distance -the sky and land, a roar like a crash of thunder immediately -following.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 6th.</i></h3> - -<p>On duty at 6 a.m. at Supply depot. Several shells come -over at the shipping, but none into our depot, shrieking -overhead like lost spirits.</p> - -<p>Distant sounds of heavy bombardment going on up -north, and one man said that he saw through glasses -shrapnel bursting up the coast ten miles away. If so, a -landing probably is being attempted at Suvla Bay.</p> - -<p>Ammunition ship with an evidently damned fool of a -captain comes in at two o’clock in broad daylight, and -of course gets shelled. Pretty good shooting on part -of Mr. Turk, and ship gets several narrow shaves. The -vessel then backs out towards two hospital ships, and -these of course get nearly hit, one shell going right over -one of them. The ship finally gets away after being -clumsily handled; but it is bad form to back near a hospital -ship. The hospital ships lie off here night and day, well<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> -within range of the Turkish batteries, which never fire on -them unless a supply or ammunition ship goes near.</p> - - -<h3><i>2 o’clock.</i></h3> - -<p>A heavy bombardment on our part has started. We -have again begun to hammer at the doors of the Dardanelles. -The sound is not unlike thousands of men beating big -drums, with thousands of trains running through tunnels. -The bombardment is heavier than anything previous, and -is concentrated on our left centre in front of Krithia. A -few French batteries are joining in, and all the British -and two Monitors, the <i>Raglan</i> and the <i>Abercrombie</i>, and -a light cruiser, with several destroyers, open fire as well.</p> - -<p>The 14-inch guns of the Monitors make an ear-splitting -row when they fire, and the bursting shell throws up a -column of smoke and dust quite 300 feet into the air. One -was plumping them in and about Krithia, and the other -on the west ridge of Achi Baba.</p> - -<p>A field battery of the Turks opens fire on one of the -Monitors just off where we are sitting, and we are rather -amused at their efforts; yet imagine our surprise when -one of their shells actually hits the Monitor, the <i>Raglan</i>, -without doing any more damage than denting her a little, -at least as far as we can see. We hear the sound of the -shell hitting her armour.</p> - -<p>An accident which might have proved serious occurs -shortly after. The Monitor fired one of her guns, and -almost simultaneously the other gun, which is depressed, -fires, and the shell strikes the water, then ricochets off -on to Gully Beach, exploding, killing one man and -wounding six.</p> - -<p>The bombardment died down somewhat at four, and -increased its range, and then there burst out the undertone -of rifle fire, sounding like hundreds of carts rolling -over cobbled stones, with the spasmodic pop-pops of the -machine guns. Later we catch glimpses of little khaki -figures charging towards Turkish trenches in front of -Krithia. All this time Krithia is getting fair hell from -our guns. At six, firing dies down to spasmodic gun and -rifle fire.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span></p> - -<p>At the time of writing I hear that my Brigade, the 88th, -have distinguished themselves, especially the Essex, and -that two lines of trenches have been captured.</p> - -<p>At dusk the destroyers, Monitors and the cruisers have -gone home, and the aeroplanes to roost.</p> - -<p>During the fight I notice lots of shrapnel shells bursting -behind Anzac, so no doubt the Australians and New -Zealanders are fighting as well. And in the distance, -though it is difficult to see, I saw several white puffs of -shrapnel bursting.</p> - -<p>It is now a cool evening, with a bit of a wind, and -spasmodic firing is going on inland.</p> - -<p>Saw Finlay in evening and then turned in.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 7th.</i></h3> - -<p>Up at six a.m. and ride out towards Brigade H.Q., but -the Turks have started to heavily bombard our lines, and -we are replying, so I postpone my visit, for Pink Farm -and the Krithia road are getting it badly.</p> - -<p>At 9 a.m., Monitors, destroyers, and cruisers come and -join in the bombardment, which continues all the morning.</p> - -<p>At 2 p.m. I ride up with Phillips to Pink Farm, and -leaving our horses, we walk up the communication trench -to Brigade H.Q. Bullets very free overhead, and we keep -our heads low. R.M.L.I. going up to the trenches. Some -of them look quite young boys, and all look hot and -tired and serious.</p> - -<p>I find the Brigade have gone back to Gully Beach. We -were badly cut up in yesterday’s battle. Day and Black -have gone, good pals of mine, both killed. This is the -most horrible side of war. They were so merry and bright -along the beach a few days ago. It seems that all the -best go.</p> - -<p>Come back to Pink Farm, passing Jennings going up. -Turkish attack starts, and our artillery gets on to them, -but they still come on determinedly, and seem very cocksure -of themselves.</p> - -<p>Ride over to Gully Beach and see remnants of the Brigade -along cliffs again. What a change to two days ago! -Tommies cooking their meals, talking over yesterday’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> -battle and pals that have been killed. I look for Day -and Black instinctively, but of course in vain. The beach -looks blank and depressing. Algy Wood is still there, -however; wonderful man, been through everything and -not been hit, and thank God for it. Poor old 88th!</p> - -<p>Come back to “W” Beach and find them shelling us, -just to show us they are still very much alive.</p> - -<p>Hear that another landing has taken place, and was -successful, at Suvla Bay.</p> - -<p>Artillery duels and rifle fire still continue. Destroyers -make a dash up Straits as far as just above De Tott’s -Battery, and have a bit of a duel with land batteries. -Shrapnel playing all over them.</p> - -<p>I think fighting will go on steadily here now with no -more delay, for it is vital to the Allies that the Dardanelles -be forced, and when they are forced, good-bye to Turk, -and Germany look out! We have got to get all our own -back—and more.</p> - - -<h3><i>8 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Very heavy rifle fire opens, and Turkish attack takes -place. Just what we want; they might just as well run -their heads against a brick wall, but no doubt they think -that they will eventually break through our line and -round us up, or drive us into the sea.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 8th.</i></h3> - -<p>Rather a stormy day. Not much shelling on “W” Beach.</p> - -<p>One can see plainly through glasses where the new landing -has taken place; hospital ships, transports, destroyers, -and three battleships are off there. Rumour hath it that -the landing was successful, and that they are advancing -across the Peninsula. Heavy firing goes on all day from -batteries on shore and warships on sea, answered but -feebly by Turkish batteries, which, however, do not fail -to pay their usual unwelcome attention to “W” Beach.</p> - -<p>A Turkish battleship, on the way down here to support -land forces, was sunk to-day by one of our submarines, -which is a great event.</p> - -<p>Heavy artillery fire goes on to-night on our left.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>August 9th.</i></h3> - -<p>Usual shelling, and some nasty ones amongst them.</p> - -<p>Ride up the gully and have a good gallop on a new little -horse with Williams.</p> - - -<h3><i>Afternoon.</i></h3> - -<p>Can see new landing through glasses. Gorse there seems -on fire. Transports very busy going to and fro on horizon.</p> - -<p>Ride up the gully along the top road at night with Cooke, -and have a chat with a few Irish R.A.M.C. pals.</p> - -<p>Artillery duels on our front all day. Hear that in addition -to Turkish battleship being sunk, also Turkish gunboat -and empty transport. Submarine also opened fire on -Turkish battalions marching on shore. Our submarine -commanders are “some” lads.</p> - -<p>Heavy firing from battleships goes on all night up north. -Good rumours come in from time to time that the new -landing forces have captured the hills in front of them -and Anafarta, and are overlooking the Straits the other -side. If this is so, then this show will be over in a -few weeks.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 10th.</i></h3> - -<p>Very quiet on this front, but a little shelling as usual -on to “W” Beach. Went up the gully in the afternoon. -Brigade still in rest there. Shells come over to Gully -Beach.</p> - -<p>Cruiser firing up coast again. Turks attack at 8 p.m., -and again at 11.30 p.m.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 11th.</i></h3> - -<p>Slight intermittent shelling on beaches and roads from -Turks all day.</p> - - -<h3><i>Afternoon.</i></h3> - -<p>French battleship <i>Saint-Louis</i> takes up position off our -part of the coast, but before she fires, Turkish batteries open -fire on her and one shell hits her, and through glasses I -see something catching fire and men running. Fire extinguished. -Battleship manœuvres for fresh position, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> -having taken it up, fires with all her 6-inch guns on west -of Achi Baba. All the while heavy fighting is going on, -on our right, by French.</p> - -<p>New landing has now linked hands with Anzac, and is -three and a half miles inland.</p> - -<p>Our troops at the new landing are not moving as fast -as was at first expected, but reports are that Kitchener’s -Army are fighting magnificently.</p> - -<p>The Indian Brigade unfortunately had to give ground -last night, but not of much consequence.</p> - -<p>I semaphore a message from the beach to McArthur -on a submarine, and submarine smartly picks it up and -acknowledges. It is from a lady friend, from whom I have -just received a letter, to a friend of McArthur’s.</p> - -<p>On the way back a shell comes near; goes right through -the roof of D.A.Q.M.G.’s office as I was passing, and penetrates -the earth wall on far side while D.A.Q.M.G. is writing -at his desk. It did not explode, and he was most fortunately -unhurt. Afterwards, he said that he dropped his pencil -with surprise.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 12th.</i></h3> - -<p>A fairly quiet day. Rode with Hyslop to the gully. -Hardly any shelling on “W” Beach, and what shells did -come over were only “poop-squeaks,” the majority not -bursting. I suppose the Turks are taking the artillery -away from here to positions against our men at Suvla. -Aeroplanes buzzing about as usual this end, and one of -the “E” type submarines comes down from the Straits. -But the Navy keeps things dark, and since the last submarine -stunt we have heard nothing.</p> - -<p>Destroyers off “W” coast find a target on west ridge -of the hill. Findlay-Smith comes to dinner.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 13th.</i></h3> - -<p>Very hot, and a calm sea. Not much shelling, but a few -“poop-squeaks” fall in Supply depot; one man wounded. -Shelling seems to be dying away.</p> - -<p>Rode to the gully to Cregan. On duty at depot in the -afternoon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span></p> - -<p>Fighting last night in centre and again this morning. -Noticed very big explosions in Turkish trenches on their -right, throwing earth and smoke quite 300 feet. On -inquiry found that they were our trench mortars at work, -throwing 100 lb. shells. That will shake things up a bit.</p> - -<p>Very quiet night.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 14th.</i></h3> - -<p>On duty at depot at 6 a.m. Very quiet, no shelling. -Wonderfully quiet altogether now: hardly a rifleshot.</p> - -<p>Rode up to the Gully Beach, and then rode out with -Mathias to Pink Farm and walked up the trench to Brigade -H.Q. Hardly a shell, and only a few bullets. What is -happening? Anyway, it is nice for us, and it is a relief -to be able to ride about in safety.</p> - -<p>Found Way at H.Q., and also saw Thomson once -more. Was very glad to see him. Rode with Way -back to the gully, passing old Butler asleep under a tree. -Told him that a shell would soon pitch on his “tummy”; -to which he replied, “It is all right: the Turks think -I’m a mule.”</p> - -<p>Call on Munster Fusiliers beyond Gully Beach in -dugouts on cliff, half way to Shrapnel Point, and have -tea with Geddes and Nightingale. We passed General de -Lisle superintending the building of a new pier off Gully -Beach.</p> - -<p>Have a nice canter home. After dinner a Turkish four-gun -battery on Asiatic side fires over a salvo of high -explosives, followed by another and another in quick -succession. It was a surprise to us, but did not last long, -as our friends the Monitors got on to them, on which I -suppose they limbered up and bolted. I hope they will -not do it in the middle of the night. The shells burst in -the Arabs’ camp beyond the aerodrome, causing them to -clear, making a row like a panic-stricken poultry yard.</p> - -<p>No news from the north.</p> - - -<h3><i>10.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Turkish battery at Yen-i-Shehr again starts firing salvos, -very rapidly, and shells, four at a time, come over in succession.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -Shells almost reach “W” Beach, and, anticipating -their arrival near us, Phillips and I curse, and have to get -up and leave our tent and go to dugout. Suddenly a great -flash over the sky behind Rabbit Island is noticed, and -shortly afterwards a great bursting flame behind Yen-i-Shehr. -A very awe-inspiring sight. After quite a pause, -there follows a great peal of thunder—rumbling on—which -ends with a great crash. This happens once or twice, -when the Turkish battery shuts up.</p> - -<p>It is the Monitor behind Rabbit Island firing its great -gun. The whole incident was like a few naughty boys -throwing stones at a house, the owner of which telephones -to the police (the Monitor behind Rabbit Island), who -without delay take effective measures to stop the nuisance. -It was really nothing more than a nuisance, and gained -no military advantage for the Turk.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 15th.</i></h3> - -<p>A very windy day, almost a Gallipoli gale blowing down -land, and in consequence dust-storms start as usual.</p> - -<p>Two guns on Achi start firing towards our tents. Why? -Lord knows, for there is nothing here to fire at but our -tents, and those can’t be seen by them. They do no harm, -but are a beastly nuisance, as we keep on having to duck. -The wind is so strong that we do not hear them coming -till they are right on to us.</p> - -<p>After lunch I ride along the top road with Carver, and -dipping down on to Gully Beach, ride up the gully a little -way, and turn off to the left into a ravine, where we leave our -horses. Climbing up the cliffs, we call at the mess of Major -Gibbon’s battery, where tea is awaiting in a delightful -summer-house surrounded with rocks and shrubbery. -Duff is there, and Monro too. The battery is in position -a few yards away in an artfully hidden spot, never as yet -having been discovered by the enemy. Out to sea a small -cruiser is in action, firing on a target on the left of Achi -Baba. A Turkish battery on the extreme right is in action -against her, recording a few hits, without causing much -damage, but making it necessary for the cruiser to -manœuvre constantly for a fresh position.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span></p> - -<p>Heavy firing occurs in the night, and the enemy strongly -attack the Anzacs, with no success.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 16th.</i></h3> - -<p>Having been invited to breakfast with the Hampshires, -who are up the line, I ride up to the nullah in front of -Pink Farm and leave my horse there, where he is given -his breakfast. On arrival at the Brigade H.Q. at the -end of the long trench—or the mule-track, as we now call -it—I am given a guide of the Royal Scots, who, however, -has difficulty in finding the battalion H.Q. We wander -about awhile before we reach our destination, reminding -me of an endeavour to thread a way through Hampton -Court maze. Up one long winding trench my guide -puzzles me somewhat by the remark, “‘B’ trench, sir, -but not a bee-line.” At first I am puzzled as to what he -is driving at, but gradually it dawns on me that he is -cracking with difficulty an obtuse Scottish joke, occasioned -by the long winding walk up the trench, which I notice -is called “B” Communication Trench.</p> - -<p>Battalion H.Q. found at last. I have an excellent -breakfast of hot cocoa, sardines, bread and jam, and at -the end of the meal I am taken up to do a tour of the line. -First we make a visit to the battalion H.Q. of the Essex, -where I see Algy Wood and Colonel Rice; then I am -shown the cookhouse of the Hampshires. Owing to a -curiously small and deep ravine, it has not been found -necessary to dig trenches here. Instead, communication -trenches lead off from the small nullah, only a hundred -and fifty yards away from our front line, in five different -directions, like streets leading off from a circus. We pass -up that part of the communication trench leading to the -line which the Hampshires are holding. On arrival here -I am greeted with a wave of sickening odour, a blend of -decaying bodies and chloride of lime. The scene in the -first-line trench is alive with interest; there officers and -men are on the alert. Every four yards men are standing -on the fire-steps looking out through periscopes, held in -their hands or fixed to rifles. Others are cleaning up the -floors or sides of the trench, as the parlour-maid would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> -the room of a house. Others are improving parapets, -levelling the sides and floors of the trench. A few are -still at breakfast—one I noticed consisting of two fried -eggs, a piece of steak, bread and honey, and hot tea.</p> - -<p>I am taken up a sap by one of the officers on duty in -the front line, a cheery young man named Moore, who -has recently won the V.C. At the sap-head, looking through -a periscope, I see not fifty yards away in front a sap-head -jutting out from a Turkish trench. Turning the periscope -round from left to right, I see a sight which fills me with -sorrow. I see lying in all postures—some alone, some in -groups of three to six—the dead bodies of brave British -Tommies, who a fortnight ago were alive and well, merry -and bright, enjoying the bathing off Gully Beach. They -had lost their lives in the battle of August 6th, and had -never even had the satisfaction of reaching Turkish territory. -After the battle our positions in the “H” trenches (as this -part of the line is termed) remained unchanged from what -they were before; but hundreds of brave men had gone -forth from there never to return, and I am afraid few -became prisoners.</p> - -<p>The end of the sap in which I am standing is protected -from enemy bombs by a roof of wire-netting. A drain -pipe penetrates the earth at the end of the sap, with its -mouth filled by a rolled up empty sand-bag. For my -benefit this is taken out, and looking through, I see quite -close to me the corpse of one of our brave fellows, blackened -by exposure. Efforts will be made to recover some of -these bodies as soon as opportunity allows. Looking -further ahead through the pipe, I have a good view of the -Turkish front line. A sentry is sitting beside the pipe, -and at intervals he removes the sand-bag from the mouth, -carefully looking out for any activity on the part of the -Turk. I prefer to look through a periscope, and take it -up once more. Not being used to them, I raise it too -high, my arms appearing above the parapet. A thoughtful -Tommy alongside of me gently pulls my arms down behind -the cover of the sand-bags. The Turkish sniper is always -on the lookout for the careless, who expose themselves -even a few inches, and is often clever in getting a bull’s-eye<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> -at the first shot. However, one through the arm would -be luck. What could be better than the pleasure of lunching -at Ciro’s with an arm in a sling from a wound? I take -a careful survey of the Turkish line, running along a gentle -rise in front of me, and after a while, I notice a shovel -lifted over the parapet and a spray of earth thrown -over, and this happens several times. A Turk at work, -probably improving his fire-step.</p> - -<p>As I go back into the front line, I notice that at intervals -we have fixed into the sand-bagged parapet iron plates, -with little holes punctured in them, protected by a small -shield hanging on a hinge like the shield to a keyhole. -Through these holes, when necessary, our men place their -rifles, firing with good protection to themselves. I am -shown our catapults for throwing bombs, almost the same -as the ancient weapons of Rome. Also trench mortars, -funny squat cannons with short, wide, gaping mouths. -Occasionally during the tour bullets come over. They -“zip” over up here, and “ping” with a long ring further -back over the roads behind our line. Now and again they -strike our parapet, sounding like the blow of a great brick -thrown with a great force. The trenches are full of flies, -hot and stuffy, with ever that sickly smell of the dead and -chloride of lime, but fortunately quite dry and very clean. -And the men are merry and keen, and delighted to show -round one who seldom enters a trench and is ignorant -of the life spent there.</p> - - -<h3><i>Evening.</i></h3> - -<p>It has been very quiet during the day, but a few shells -came over to “W” Beach; most of them did not -explode.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 17th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is a wonderfully clear day and we can see the Asiatic -side and the plains of Troy in vivid detail. Some 6-inch -shells come over from Asia to “W” Beach this morning, -and after lunch we receive a few more, one, very close to -our bivouac, falling into the sea and throwing up a large -waterspout.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>August 18th.</i></h3> - -<p>So far it has been a very quiet morning, not a single -shell on the beach. The other day one of our machines -dropped bombs on a Turkish transport in the Sea of -Marmora, sinking her. One of our transports on the way -to Suvla has been sunk, and nearly a thousand lives lost. -Rumour now whispers that the Suvla Bay landing has -not been as successful as was at first thought. But we -learn that many more troops are being landed. We are -still hoping for victory, which so far we have not tasted. -Dismal news reaches us from Suvla. A Naval officer -just returning from there informs us that we are digging -in hard a line at the foot of the hills, and that the Turks -are also doing likewise. Also, we must now face a winter -campaign. No comment is necessary as to our feelings. -We are shelled a little at night, but are too tired and bored -to bother, and so go to sleep. I am still sleeping in a tent -with Phillips, and if a shell does hit us clean while we are -asleep it is of no consequence, for then we shan’t wake up -the next morning with another awful day before us to live.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 19th.</i></h3> - -<p>Before breakfast this morning I ride up the West Coast -road, my mount being fresh and lively, enjoying to the full -the canter I give him up to Artillery Road. The ride -along that road beats so far any ride I have ever had for -enjoyment. The soft going, though it may be rather -dusty; the view—the sea on the left, Imbros shrouded at -her feet by blue-grey mist, the sound of the waves gently -lapping the shore on the road below; the view in front, of -stately and formidable Achi Baba and of the mountains -of Asia, with now and again a glimpse of the blue waters -of the Dardanelles on the right. All is quiet; I might -be miles from war, and yet I am in the centre of war on -a large scale, concentrated in an area that would be lost -on Salisbury Plain. To obtain an idea of on how large a -scale the war on this little tip of land is, as far as fighting -is concerned, one has only to compare our casualties here -up to now with those of the South African War. And now -we have Suvla Bay, where six Divisions are on shore.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span></p> - -<p>Passing the road leading down to Gully Beach, my -horse shies badly as two 60-pounders in action on the -cliff overlooking the beach fire over our heads. These -60-pounders have moved forward from their original -position on the cliff by the beach, much to our satisfaction, -for they were too near our bivouac, and a 60-pounder is -a noisy toy.</p> - -<p>I ride down from Artillery Road, and turning to the -right, ride up the foot of the beautiful gully, now more -honeycombed than ever with dugouts and terraces and -flights of steps. Leaving my horse at a small camp near -Bruce’s Ravine—named after the gallant Colonel of the -Gurkhas, who sailed on the same hospital ship in which -I went to Alexandria in July, because of the gallant and -victorious fight the Gurkhas made for the capture of Gurkha -Bluff, in the early days—I walk up this ravine, used as -a mule-track, to the trenches up on the high ground on the -left of the gully, forming the extreme left of our line. And -after a short walk through a series of trenches forming -our support line, I turn down a communication trench, -which after a while brings me out on to a long and wide -terrace overlooking “Y” Beach. “Y” Beach was the -scene of a terrible fight between the K.O.S.B.’s and the -enemy on April 25th, in which the K.O.S.B.’s were successful -in effecting a landing, only to evacuate a day after. But -how they landed there at all is a feat to be marvelled at, -for the beach can hardly be called a beach. It is a narrow -ravine, widening slightly at the water’s edge to a width -of not more than a hundred yards, and flanked by steep, -almost precipitous gorse-covered slopes to a height of -150 feet. Troops attempting to land on such a beach -from small open boats could not be expected to even -reach the shore; yet by the night these Scotsmen had conquered -the heights and penetrated inshore. But their -position was too precarious, and it was a wise move to -order them to evacuate.</p> - -<p>At the end of the terrace on the north side of the top of -the ravine, my Brigade H.Q. is comfortably dug in, and -it is a pleasure sitting there talking, with such a picturesque -view to enjoy from the position. It is far the prettiest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> -site our Brigade has had up to now for their Headquarters, -and also convenient, for they are situated but a few -hundred yards behind the front line.</p> - -<p>As I am about to take my leave, four shrapnel shells -come over from a Turkish battery on our extreme left, -which burst low on the opposite slopes of the ravine, with -the trenches of two regiments in reserve for a target. They -are followed steadily by several salvos, one or two of the -shells bursting in the air near our H.Q., and one in particular -throwing a few bullets onto the ground at my feet, -as I stand at the door of the General’s mess. The General -invites me to step inside, saying, “Unless you want to get -shot,” and gives me a topping breakfast of scrambled eggs -on toast.</p> - -<p>After breakfast I go back with Mathias and Arnold to -Gully Beach and see 86th Brigade H.Q. and Sinclair -Thomson, and then ride with Arnold to “W” Beach. -Mathias and Arnold came to lunch, as a parcel had arrived, -and we enjoyed the luxuries thereof.</p> - -<p>After lunch I receive orders to go with 88th Brigade -and 86th Brigade to the new landing. Way also under -orders to go. So after nearly four months of hanging -on to this tip of the Peninsula the poor old 29th Division -is to leave and try its luck at the new landing, and Achi -Baba still remains impregnable.</p> - -<p>I look forward to the move with mixed feelings—relief -at getting away from this end, and new feelings at the -prospect of being more heavily shelled than we ever -were here.</p> - -<p>However, perhaps the move may be a successful one, -and the end of the campaign in this area nearer than -we think.</p> - -<p>At 9 p.m. I go down to “W” Beach and make inquiries. -As usual, nobody knows anything, and all is confusion. -The piers are very congested with the baggage being -shipped on to lighters, which are then towed out to -trawlers. All such work, of course, has to be done after -dark. At twelve, after making exhaustive inquiries and -with no result, Way and I walk over to “V” Beach.</p> - -<p>At the fort on the left of “V” Beach, looking shorewards,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> -we find that a lot of Lancashire and Munster Fusiliers -are taking shelter, as the Turks had been shelling the beach. -We lie down just outside the fort on the stone floor and try -to get some sleep. A perfect night, and as I look up at the -stars I wonder what it was like here a year ago, when -war had not devastated this land.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 20th.</i></h3> - -<p>At 1.30 a.m. we get up and go down to the <i>River Clyde</i>. -The <i>River Clyde</i> is now supporting a very fine pier that -the French have constructed. The French are excellent -people at organization. After waiting some time, an M.L.O. -tells me that the 88th are not going till the following -night, and so I say good-night to Way, who is going off -with the 86th, and proceed to walk back the mile and a -half to “W” Beach.</p> - -<p>I take the wrong turning, inquire the way of a French -soldier, who puts me wrong again, and I find myself in -a perfect maze of French dugouts. Once in the maze, I -have an awful job to get out, and after stumbling and -falling about for some time, manage to find the road. -Feeling very tired, I stumble along in and out of the shell -holes, it being very dark, and at last I arrive at “W” Beach.</p> - -<p>I find Major Blackburn, Camp Commandant, still at -work in his office in a dugout on the side of the cliff, and -he very kindly revives me with a whisky. It is now -3.30 a.m., and after chatting with him, he giving a most -dismal and chilling outlook of Suvla Bay (20,000 casualties -and only just hanging on to the low land), I go back to -the tent. Have no bed, my kit having gone on. I lie -down like a dog and sleep soundly till five o’clock, when -I am awakened by the cold. I go out to try to get warm, -and see the sun rise. The breath of the coming winter -seems to be in the air. Phew! In winter we shall be -washed off by rain, not driven off by the Turks.</p> - -<p>I sleep again, and then have breakfast with Phillips. -Heavy artillery duels all day and the Gully people get it -badly—twelve men wounded.</p> - -<p>I rest during the day, as I shall be up all night again -to-night.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span></p> - -<p>I wonder how many other people are keeping diaries -on Gallipoli besides me. It would be interesting for me -to read them, for they must all be told from far different -points of view.</p> - -<p>The impression the Gallipoli campaign has on the minds -of the men in the trenches, by far the most important -men in the machine of the Dardanelles Army, must be -widely foreign to the impression made on the mind, for -instance, of a lighterman. The man in the trenches, -probably, if he has been to France, and many here have, -sees no great difference from life in the trenches in the -Ypres salient.</p> - -<p>The A.S.C. baker views life here through quite differently -coloured spectacles from the A.S.C. driver, the A.S.C. driver -from the signal operator, the officer in the observation balloon -from the M.O. of a regiment, the platoon commander from -the M.L.O., the aviator to the gunner officer, the commander -of a submarine from the veterinary officer; and yet each -respective outlook on life, to each officer or man, is one -of far more vital and of greater importance than all the -views, opinions, thoughts, and actions of any of his comrades -or neighbours, of any newspaper, or public opinion. It -is for him his destiny. The carrying out of orders given -to his particular self, though of seemingly little importance -in comparison to the working of the large Army machine, -is to him perhaps a matter of life or death. Death or -grievous wounds may prevent him carrying out an order; -in that event he will be excused, but while alive and -effective, he must carry out that order to the letter.</p> - -<p>The position that Destiny has placed him in, as part -of the huge machine, controls his thoughts, actions, character -and outlook on life. His daily work may bring him -in a constant danger of sudden death, and he naturally -views his life from the point of view of the probability -of leaving it suddenly, and possibly in an awful manner. -That constant thought usually makes a man braver than -we would expect, for his will forces him to carry out to -the letter his orders and rules his mind, which is fully -aware of the danger he incurs in doing so. As well as -making him braver, the thought decides his will to make -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> -the most of the pleasures of life that may pass his way, -and as a result he is usually to be found of a cheery, optimistic -nature, easily pleased and hard to depress. For -optimists, go to the front-line trenches—or the Navy—and -for pessimists, go to overworked administrative officers.</p> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_200"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_200_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_200_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">A VIEW OF THE PROMONTORY, SUVLA BAY, TAKEN FROM 29TH DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS.</p> - - <p class="noindent center x-small">The animals are just hidden from the enemy by the dip in the ground, while the high ground on the right of the picture -is in full view of the enemy.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p>If it were possible for all ranks, from O.C. to private, -in an army fighting in any certain campaign to keep an -accurate diary of all they do and see, then there could be -published a perfectly true record of the development and -history of that campaign, so it is not possible, and never -will be, for the truth of all happenings in that campaign -to be known. And it never will be in any campaign. -Hundreds of deeds, gallant, tragic, cowardly, and foolish, -occur which are never, and can never be, recorded. When -the daily Press, arm-chair critics in clubs, etc., criticize -any statesman or Army Staff, they are simply talking hot -air, for how is it possible for them to judge, when their -source of information is as unreliable as a “W” Beach -rumour? So why waste words? Much better go and do -something useful, or shut up and go and hide. War is -like a big game. This war we must win—or we shall lose.</p> - -<p>If we lose, it is on too huge a scale to be through any -man’s fault—it will be Destiny.</p> - -<p>At 9.30 p.m. I walk over to “V” Beach again and find -much more order there than last night. Our Brigade is -moving off systematically from the pier alongside the <i>River -Clyde</i>. I embark with the Essex on to a small trawler. -Algy Wood is with me. We are a merry party. We cast -off and steam out to a paddle-boat, which we come alongside, -and make fast to tranship. We are packed very -closely together. The skipper makes all the Tommies laugh -by shouting through a megaphone, in a deep Naval drawl, -to a small tug in the offing, “Finished with you, Jessie!” -and off we steam north, for our unknown fate at Suvla Bay.</p> - -<p>A Tommy expresses his feelings by the remark, “I -don’t know where I am going to, but I shall be glad when -I get there.”</p> - -<p>So shall I. I take a farewell glance at the <i>River Clyde</i> -and Sed-el-Bahr, and express the prayer that I shall not see -either again during this war, and lie down on deck to sleep.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>August 21st.</i></h3> - -<p>I awake at 2 a.m. and find a blaze of lights on our starboard, -and so sleepy am I that for the life of me I cannot -make out what is happening or where I am. There seem -to be thousands of little fairy lamps, and at first I think -that we are entering an English watering-place alongside -an illuminated pier. Coming to my senses, I find that -we are passing close to three hospital ships, which are always -illuminated at night, and entering a small bay. After a -lot of manœuvring, we get off into lighters and are towed -for a mile, coming finally alongside an improvised pier, -where we disembark, thence on to a sandy beach, where -inquiries are made as to our future. I go off in search -of a Supply depot, but can only find one belonging to -the 11th Division. The Brigade move off inland to a -place called Chocolate Hill, the other side of a salt lake, -and I lie down for an hour behind some hay.</p> - -<p>I awake at 5 a.m., get up and shake myself and wander -about, endeavouring to gain some information. I find -Panton, with whom I go up on to the high ground behind -the beach.</p> - -<p>I learn that this is called “C” Beach. It is a small -beach, flanked on its north side by a high rocky promontory -called Lala Baba, the other side of which is Suvla Bay. -Suvla Bay is in turn flanked on its north side by a high -rocky promontory, jutting nearly two miles from the -mainland into the sea. Where the bay washes the mainland, -there starts a salt lake, looking like a large flat, sandy -plain, evidently under water in the winter. In the background -are high rocky hills, covered with gorse, looking -beautiful in the early morning sun. At the foot, on the left -and right of the Salt Lake, lies meadow land, with occasional -clusters of olive groves. The hills on the promontory -to the north of Suvla Bay continue in a range inland, curving -round the low land immediately in front of us, when to -the right of where I am standing they join and rise to a -high peak called Sari Bair. Sari Bair, which commands -the right of our line—for I learn we are on the low land—sweeps -down to the Australians’ position at Anzac or -Gaba Tepe.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span></p> - -<p>One or two smaller hills, from fifty to a hundred feet -high, stand near to us, rising out of the low meadow and -wooded land. Some are in our hands, and some are still -Turkish. One hill in particular, lying at the other end of -the Salt Lake, inland from its centre, is called Chocolate -Hill, and I learn D.H.Q. are to be there to-night. I hear -also that there is to be a battle to-day. Many troops are -landing, including a whole Division of Yeomanry, amongst -them the Warwicks, Worcesters, and Gloucesters.</p> - -<p>I meet one of our D.H.Q. Staff, and he, with Panton, -proceeds to Chocolate Hill, while I continue to make -inquiries as to where I am to go. Nobody appears to know -or to care, and so I go on to the top of Lala Baba -and have another look round. On the opposite side of -the bay I see the promontory alive with troops. In the -centre of the bend of the bay I see hospital tents pitched. -Four battleships are at anchor in the bay, together with -a few transports and Supply ships. They are shut in -and protected from submarine attack from the outer sea -by a boom of submerged nets stretching between the ends -of two flanking promontories. Over the wooded low land -now and again there begins to burst Turkish shrapnel. -Half-way up the promontory on the opposite side of the -bay I see stacks of Supply boxes. I go back to “C” -Beach and call at the depot to make further inquiries, -and learn that the Supply depot that I have seen on the -other side of the bay is on “A” Beach, and, as no orders -have been received to feed the 29th from “C” Beach -depot, the “A” Beach depot must be my destination.</p> - -<p>As I stroll across “C” Beach I notice a damaged -aeroplane, around which men are clustering, inspecting -it with curiosity. A Naval Lieutenant comes up and -clears them away, saying to me that if only a few men -collect together in a bunch they are very soon shelled by -a Turkish 6-inch gun on Sari Bair, which commands the -beach.</p> - -<p>I walk up to the back of the beach once more, and start -for a tramp round the bay to the Supply depot that I -see in the distance. It is to be a long tramp, and I feel -a bit tired and devilish hungry. On the other side of Lala<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> -Baba I pass 18-pounder batteries in position, hidden from -the enemy by little rises of the ground and screened from -aeroplane observation by gorse-bushes. Their position -tells me that our front line cannot be very far inland. -Presumably the same thing has happened that happened -at Helles on April 25th. We have got on shore all right, -but that is all. The Turks hold all the prominent positions, -and appear to have us in the hollow of their hands. I -walk along on the sandy beach, very tiring for my feet, -until I reach “B” Beach, which is in the centre of the -beach running between the two promontories of the bay; -there I come to a casualty clearing station of the Welsh -Division. I am dog-tired and almost faint from hunger, -and call in, begging some breakfast. They tell me breakfast -is at eight, and make me lie down to get an hour’s sleep, -for it is seven o’clock. At eight I wake up and join the -officers at breakfast. Hot cocoa, without milk, for milk -is reserved for the patients; bacon, biscuits, and jam. -No bread has been issued at Suvla up to now. I then -learn some news. We had actually taken the high hills -on the left of Anafarta Village, which lies just behind the -lower hills in front of us. The Gurkhas and Australians -had actually been on top of Sari Bair—had been treated -to the joy of looking down on to the Dardanelles on the -other side.</p> - -<p>Something went amiss. Our troops had to retire, and -now our line ran from the hills on the left of the bay, but -about a mile and a half inland on the mainland, dropping -down to the low lands in front, continuing in front of -Chocolate Hill, which was ours, across the low land on -the right of Chocolate Hill, then running gently a short -way up the slope of Sari Bair, finally joining hands with -the Anzacs in position some distance up the slope of the -hills in front of Gaba Tepe.</p> - -<p>Burnt Hill, a small eminence in front of Chocolate Hill, -is to be attacked to-day. This is so named because of the -gorse which had been burnt by the shelling at the landing. -We saw this burning gorse from Helles on the 7th and 8th.</p> - -<p>Once Burnt Hill was ours, the Turks would be forced -to retire to Anafarta. A further attack on our part would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> -capture Anafarta and the high hills on our left, enabling -the Anzacs to capture Sari Bair. Thence to Maidos, -Achi Baba cut off, and the Dardanelles forced.</p> - -<p>I am just about to leave, thanking them for their hospitality, -when shrapnel burst outside overhead. I say to -them, “Surely this hospital does not get shelled?” And -they tell me that now and again a stray shrapnel does -burst here, but that they are shelling a small column of -carts passing along the beach, a small cluster of horsemen -riding in Salt Lake, or a few men passing over the flat -wooded country. No target appears too small for their -shrapnel, even people bathing. The shore in the centre -of the bay is within easy reach of their field-gun shrapnel, -but as a rule they respect this Welsh hospital, though -it is within full view and easy range of their guns.</p> - -<p>I continue my walk and keep close to the water’s edge, -for shrapnel now and again bursts not more than a hundred -yards inland. I reach the Supply depot that I had seen -from Lala Baba, and learn that we are now IXth Corps, -that I have arrived at the Corps Reserve Supply depot on -“A” Beach, that they get shelled regularly every day, -also that Foley and Way are further up the road, towards -the end of the promontory.</p> - -<p>I walk up there and find them sitting in a small depot -that they have formed, with a little camp of wagon-covers -and ground-sheets, supported by logs obtained from a -broken lighter. I feel glad to see them. O’Hara comes -up soon after with Badcock, who is over from G.H.Q. to -get transport in order, having been here since the landing. -We make ourselves a little more comfortable during the -morning; a bivouac for Way and myself is made of a tarpaulin -stretched over balks of timber, forming a little -house open at the sides. We are out of range of shrapnel, -but I learn that high explosive and howitzer shells often -come our way.</p> - -<p>In the morning I see Cox, who has returned from Alexandria, -and learn that the 88th Brigade are not to be in -action to-day, for which I am thankful. We get ready to -send up rations by A.T. carts and pack-mules to-night.</p> - -<p>At 1 o’clock Way goes up to see his Brigade H.Q.—the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> -86th—on Chocolate Hill. The 87th and 88th are there as -well, and D.H.Q. and other H.Q. of other Brigades, and the -side of the hill must be very congested. I can see hundreds -of troops sheltering on the low ground by Lala Baba across -the bay.</p> - - -<h3><i>2.30.</i></h3> - -<p>The four battleships and all our guns on shore open a -heavy bombardment on the Turkish position on the hills -in front, and especially on Burnt Hill, and an hour later -the gorse on that hill and on the low ground to the right -of Chocolate Hill catches alight, and is soon burning like -a roaring furnace, spreading like the fire on a prairie. At -3.30 I hear rifle fire and learn that our attack on Burnt -Hill has started. The artillery simultaneously increases -its range. The bombardment, however, does not ring so -confidently as did our bombardment in the victorious -battle of June 28th, nor does it appear to be so powerful.</p> - -<p>I see the Yeomanry now marching steadily in open -order across the Salt Lake. It is the first time that they -have been in action. Several years ago I was a trooper -in the Warwickshire Yeomanry, who are now with the -rest marching into battle. The Worcesters, Gloucesters, -Middlesex, Sharp-shooters, Sherwood Foresters, Notts -and Derby are there, and I think several other regiments, -all troopers and troop leaders on foot, their -horses left in Egypt. Little did they think, when they -trained on Salisbury Plain for cavalry work, that when -the hour came for them to go into battle they would -go in on foot as infantry. When they did their regular -fourteen days’ annual training, some of their friends -used to laugh at them, saying that they were playing at -soldiers. What I see before my eyes now is no play. Yet -they look the same as they did on Salisbury Plain. Ah! -the real thing for them has come at last, though many -of them only landed this morning, for I see a white puff -of shrapnel burst over their heads. It is quickly followed -by another and another, developing to a rapid concentrated -fire. They run the gauntlet without losing their Salisbury -Plain steadiness, except for an occasional bunching together<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> -here and there. Soon casualties occur and prostrate -khaki figures can be seen lying on the sandy salt of the -lake for the stretcher-bearers and ambulance-wagons to -pick up—the harvest of war. At last they are at Chocolate -Hill, where they nestle under its slopes for protection till -further orders.</p> - -<p>At 6 p.m. Way returns, and tells us that Chocolate Hill -was “Red Hell” while he was there, smothered in shrapnel -and flying bullets; that an officer in D.H.Q. has been -killed quite near him, but O’Hara is safe. It was not -safe for Way to leave until five o’clock.</p> - -<p>Dusk arrives, and the moon is rising. Major Badcock -is going up with kit for D.H.Q. to Chocolate Hill on four -little box cars, and I ask if I can go with him to see my -Brigade H.Q. He gives me a lift, and off we go along the -bumpy track from the promontory to the mainland, when, -bending to the right, through clusters of trees and in and -out of gorse-bushes and boulders, we arrive at last on -the flat, growthless plain of the Salt Lake. Instead of -being heavy going over soft sand, as I thought it would be, -it is very good going over a hard, binding surface, and we -get along at a fine pace, which in the moonlight, on such -an occasion, is very exciting and enjoyable. Soon I see -the shadow of trees and cultivation, and know that we -are nearing Chocolate Hill, and almost at the same time -I hear and almost feel the unpleasant whiz of many bullets -overhead, about, and around. We stop, but the noise of -the pulsating engines of the car drowns all other sounds, -and we walk a little way in front and hear the regular rattle -of heavy rifle fire. The spot where we are standing is -receiving the benefit of the “overs,” many of which kick -up the dust around us. Now and again shells scream -over, but not many. We drive on to the trees in front, -and dump our kit. At this point the bullets are flying -fairly high, and we feel safer, though I expect all the time -that blow of a sledge-hammer which comes with the hit -of a bullet. We unload the kit by some trees, and some -men near by are instructed to go on to the Division and -tell them that the first batch of their kit had arrived, and -one man is left in charge. We turn to go back, and I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> -notice a wounded man on a stretcher being carried away, -and I ask them to put him in the car. I offer him water, -but he refuses, saying that he has been hit by a shrapnel -bullet in the stomach, and water makes him vomit. His -voice sounds familiar to me. I look at his face—I ask -him if he is Howell of the Warwickshire Yeomanry—he -replies “Yes.” We rode next to each other, years ago, -as troopers. Many wounded are lying here, there, and -everywhere, and we load up our empty cars with as many -as we can, and steadily and gently go back. Firing dies -down. It was only “wind up” on the part of the Turks. -I leave Howell at the Welsh Casualty Clearing Station -on the “B” Beach. He is quite cheerful. His experience -of actual war started when he had landed this morning, -and ends now as he lies wounded, waiting to be properly -attended to, and he had trained and given up his -spare time for years past for these few hours! He shakes -me by the hand. After this war I do not think that people -will be amused at the “playing at soldiers” of Yeomanry -and Territorials.</p> - -<p>Back at the beach I load the four cars once more with -D.H.Q. kit, and off we proceed on a second journey. I -am alone in charge this time, for Badcock has to go up to -Corps H.Q. The full moon brilliantly lighting up everything -helps us to get along at a good pace. On arrival -at the trees on the other side of the Salt Lake, where we -had dumped the first loads, I find no signs of this first -batch, and a few men about appear to know nothing whatever -about it. We go steadily along, feeling our way carefully, -for there is no road, towards Chocolate Hill. I leave -the cars two hundred yards from Chocolate Hill and walk -the rest of the way. I pass men hard at work digging -a trench. I arrive at the foot of the hill and find it congested -with all manner and kinds of parts of units of an -army. There are some infantry of our Brigade awaiting -orders—mule-carts with Drabis sitting cross-legged unconcernedly -thereon. Bullets do not appear to worry -them. I believe they think that they are butterflies. A -first-line dressing station is chock full of wounded, and -the M.O.’s are hard at work attending to the cases. Signal<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> -stations are tap-tapping and buzzers buz-buzzing. I walk -up the slopes of the hill, wending my way past dugouts -all around, to my right and left and above, in which are -H.Q. of various Brigades. I step over poor, broken dead -men, lying nestling in the gorse, and curse from the -bottom of my heart the rulers of the German Empire; -and seeing an officer standing outside a dugout, I inquire -for Major O’Hara, of the 29th Division. Am told that -he will be back shortly. I then ask for 88th H.Q., -and he comes along with me to help me look for -them. We find them eventually, and I learn that rations -have been received. I also learn that the day has not -gone well with us, but that we will probably attack at -dawn, and that the 88th will this time be in action. -The Yeomanry, shortly after arriving at Chocolate Hill, -had gone up beyond to our front line under a terrible -fire, but in perfect order, quietly and orderly as if on parade. -We had not advanced our position, which was the same -as before the battle. The gorse is burning fiercely on -my right, lighting up the immediate neighbouring country. -Several wounded were caught in it and burnt to death -before they could be rescued, but many were saved, and -some gallant deeds were done in their rescue.</p> - -<p>Sir John Milbanke, V.C., has been killed. Practically -his last words were, “Great Scott! this is a bloody business.” -We go back to the dugout of D.H.Q., where we find O’Hara -and also Bray, the A.P.M. I had often heard of Bray -several years before the war, for my brother-in-law was -his pupil. He asks me if I am any relation to his pupil’s -wife, and so we meet and are introduced.</p> - -<p>I hand the kit over to Bray. I am instructed to go -back and fetch up two of the cars loaded with tins of water -from “A” trench. As I leave, a rattle of musketry again -bursts out from the jumpy enemy, and bullets zip past, -seeming to come from all directions. Parties which have -been standing about in the open move for cover. I again -load up my four cars with wounded, one case being that -of a man who has just been hit in the leg while digging -in the trench that I had just passed. Back at “A” Beach -I apply for water at the water dump, and am told that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> -it cannot be issued without a chit from the officer. “Where -is the officer?” “In his dugout.” “Where is his dugout?” -“Two hundred yards up the beach.” Arrive at -officer’s dugout. Officer asleep; wakened up. “Can’t -have water without chit from Corps.” I reply, “I shall -get my water, and at once, please.” He replies, “What’s -that?” I repeat. I am refused a chit. I politely explain -that the reason he is peacefully enjoying his slumber undisturbed -by Turkish bayonets is because our Tommies -are in the front busy seeing that the Turks do not come -over our line and rush the trenches, also that some of -those Tommies want water, and that I have been instructed -to take it to them.</p> - -<p>The water loaded on two cars, the other two holding -kit, off we proceed once more on our third trip, but, alas! -the moon dips down into the sea. A shout from behind, -and a car full of kit overturns in a trench. It is left with -the driver till morning. On we go, first bumping into -large stone boulders, then into large clusters of thick gorse, -and two more cars are finally out of action in deep holes. -On I go with the third car, groping our way across the -Salt Lake, for it is now pitch dark, and at last, when near -the advanced dressing station, flames spurt out from the -bonnet of the car, and halting, we find something afire -in the almost red-hot engine. We stop. I walk over to -the dressing station. There is not much firing, only an -occasional sing of a bullet and no shells.</p> - -<p>I learn that they are getting water now from a well, -but want receptacles. I off-load my tins from the car into -an ambulance-wagon, which proceeds up to Chocolate -Hill, two hundred yards away. We wait until the engine -is quite cool, and then grope our way back; dawn is -breaking, and it becomes gradually lighter. Arriving at -my “bivvy,” I fling myself on my camp-bed and am fast -asleep in two seconds.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 22nd.</i></h3> - -<p>We did not attack at dawn, and so the 88th have not -been in action. We are as we were—yesterday’s battle -is not to be recorded as a victory for us. Machine guns<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> -again from right, left, and centre fired from behind great -boulders of stone and hidden hillocks covered with gorse, -and wave after wave of our men were mown down as with -a scythe. Twice we captured the Burnt Hill, but twice -were driven off, and Burnt Hill remains Turkish. The -Yeomanry were unable to get to grips with the enemy: -but for gallantry in that march from Chocolate Hill -to our front line, four hundred yards in front across -the open in the daylight, under a hail of shrapnel and -machine gun bullets, their behaviour could not have been -excelled.</p> - -<p>Their officers represent the best blood of England, and -their men good old country blood of the hunting and farmer -class of Old England, with many a man of good birth in -the ranks. How could such men behave otherwise than -gallantly? To-night I take up the remainder of D.H.Q. -kit to their new quarters, not so far forward as Chocolate -Hill, to a rocky hillock covered by gorse, inland from the -mainland, a distance of about a mile in a line with our -promontory. The place, if found out by John Turk, will -prove to be a perfect shell-trap, and shells bursting on -solid rock will burst “some.” They will be foolish to -stay there.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 24th.</i></h3> - -<p>To-day we had a terrific thunderstorm; forked lightning -all over the sky and heavy rain, but it lasted only -an hour.</p> - -<p>We chose a new site further up the side of the slope of -the promontory, yet under cover of a slight rise of ground. -The formation of the land here is full of dips and rises, -not noticeable from a distance, and thereby affording -excellent cover, for which we thank Providence. We have -to move, for the Corps Reserve depot is getting such an -unhealthy spot on “A” Beach that it is shortly moving -to where we are now.</p> - -<p>All day long the battleships pop off at the Turks on -shore, the row from the guns echoing and rebounding -with deafening reverberation from the hills and sides of -the promontory.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span></p> - -<p>I go up with rations to our Brigade to-night—a beautiful -night—with a convoy of mule-carts driven by the imperturbable -Drabis, who merrily chant Indian songs. The -moon at night simplifies our work considerably. By day -it is dangerous for transport to go far afield.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 25th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is now four long, terrible months since we landed, -and we are still on the low lands at the three landings. -The positions in front of us are formidable, almost impregnable, -and unless the Balkan States are drawn in on -our side, never shall we open the Dardanelles. The task -is now impossible for us, and we have lost our opportunity -at the start by only landing with one Division. Our effort -has failed, though we have made good our landing. The -shipping here gets shelled as at Helles, and this morning -a battleship was hit twice.</p> - -<p>We can hear heavy firing down at Helles.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 26th.</i></h3> - -<p>Everywhere everybody is hard at work making dugouts. -In the line our infantry are feverishly making a line of -defence, digging night and day without cessation. “A” -Beach gets shelled, but no shells reach our end of the -promontory. Our battleships’ guns roar out continually -all day, as if in sullen anger at the recent failure—at -what I am afraid will be our last effort. My Brigade has -moved over from Chocolate Hill, and is in the line on the -low part of the slope of the high hills which form the left -flank, next to the sea, of our position, and Brigade H.Q. -is dug in behind a hillock in a gully which has been called -Lone Tree Gully.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 27th.</i></h3> - -<p>A violent gale blowing to-day. Carver, Petro, and Phillips -are now here as transport officers.</p> - -<p>Work on the beaches now goes on feverishly, night and -day. Each day a new sand-bagged dugout appears. -Additions are made to the piers. Two off West Beach -are complete. One further up, towards the end of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> -promontory, is being built rapidly and skilfully by a bridging -party of regular Australian Army Engineers. I am -told by their warrant officer that there is a regular Australian -Army, but that it is being jealously guarded in Australia, -and that really it is only a framework of an army. The -bridging section, however, at Suvla is part of this. The -fighting army of Australia and New Zealand is voluntary -since the war, yet is superior in fighting qualities to the -Prussian Guard.</p> - -<p>Further up, towards the end of the promontory, two -small beaches or coves are rapidly being turned into fitting -order to receive the steady requirements of food, ammunition, -S.A.A. stores, ordnance, etc., and piers there are -rapidly being thrown out. At night, long convoys of -A.T. carts and pack-mules form up loaded with rations, -A.S.C. and Ordnance stores and ammunition, and proceed -along the promontory towards the mainland. On arrival -there they branch off in various directions to their respective -destinations, just behind the line. Early on their journey -they encounter the song of bullets flying from the Turkish -line continually all night. I think that the Turks in the -front line must be given so many rounds of ammunition -and told to loose off in the air in our direction, not aiming -at anybody, but firing blindly in the hope of a victim. -Now and again a bullet does find a victim, but on going -up regularly each night one gets so accustomed to the -sound of their flight, that one walks on, taking no notice; -although, if by any chance a rifle is pointing directly your -way, even at a thousand yards’ range, it sounds as if it -is fired close to your head, and almost simultaneously, -“whizz-ping,” goes past you very near, and then unconsciously -you duck.</p> - -<p>The drivers on the A.T. carts, however, worry about -the bullets less than anybody, remaining sitting on their -carts and chanting away contentedly.</p> - -<p>To-night, trouble with water occurs, and I am up with -O’Hara and Hadow, our Staff Captain, at Brigade H.Q. -on the job. Our H.Q. now are at Lone Tree Gully, about -four hundred yards behind our front line. One is quite -safe there unless they choose to shrapnel it, but a gully<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> -in front was badly shrapnelled the other day, and the -Royal Scots, being caught in it, were severely mauled. -Further back on the road, though, for some distance one -has to walk along through a zone of “overs,” and two -found a target to-night in a sergeant and corporal on -transport duty. As I walk along that road, I am always -ready waiting for the sledge-hammer blow from the unseen -hand, always hoping that it will be a Blighty one, through -the soft part of the arm or leg.</p> - -<p>A large proportion of our water has to be brought ashore -by water-lighters, pipes leading from them to the shore. -Tanks are filled from the pipes, and all kinds of receptacles -filled from the tanks, such as petrol-cans, milkcans, fantasies, -and goat-skins. The cans can be loaded on to the A.T. -carts, while the fantasies and goat-skins are loaded on -to mules, in each case two on a mule, one hanging on -either side. The A.T. cart form of transport is much -preferable to the pack-mule, for the latter is fond of bucking -and throwing off his load, which on a dark night on convoy -means great trouble.</p> - -<p>The Engineers are hard at work finding wells, but such -wells as we have cannot by any means supply even half -of the requirements of water.</p> - -<p>After we have turned in to-night we hear a heavy roar -of musketry from Anzac, and soon the battleships and -shore batteries join in. It is a clear night, and the roar -of the musketry echoes over the bay remarkably loudly. -I have never heard such concentrated rifle fire so loudly -before.</p> - -<p>It lasts for about two hours, and then dies suddenly -away to the incessant crack-crack-crack of the regular -nightly rifle fire.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 28th.</i></h3> - -<p>Gale still high.</p> - -<p>To-day, I, with Foley, pay my first visit to a battleship, -the <i>Swiftsure</i>. She is easily distinguishable from other -ships by two large cranes in position amidships on either -side. I had previously signalled to Fleet-Surgeon Jeans -on board, sending an introduction to him given me by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> -General Cayley, our Brigadier. A pinnace arrives for me; -we skim over the calm water of the bay, smartly pulling -up alongside the great ship. My quest was a case of -whisky for Brigade H.Q., stuck up in dugouts in Lone -Tree Gully, with no chance of getting any. This is the -first time that I have been on a battleship, and as I climb -up the rope ladder, I remember that I had read somewhere -that in the days of Nelson one saluted the quarter-deck -when one steps thereon. As I was first up I did not know -whether it was correct, but I did so, and noticing some -Naval officers following me behind also saluting, saw that -I was correct.</p> - -<p>They entertained us royally on board. I nearly had -a nervous breakdown when they offered me a whisky -and soda. Naval officers cannot be beaten as hosts.</p> - -<p>A howitzer has been potting at us to-day, a good many -of the shells going right over the cliff into the sea on -the other side.</p> - -<p>Convoy work again at night to Lone Tree Gully, -and a chat with the General in his dugout. A lovely -moonlight night, and calm again after a three days’ beastly -gale.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 29th.</i></h3> - -<p>Go to D.H.Q. in the morning, who have now moved back -to a gully alongside Corps H.Q., nicely dug in the side of -a hill near us. Their quarters, as well as those of Corps, -are built amongst the green gorse, which, with paths -running in and out and terraces about, makes a lovely -garden. Very nice conditions under which to work. I -am writing this on the heights of the shale cliffs of the -northern promontory of Suvla Bay. The sea is calm -and a deep, lovely blue, suddenly changing to green at -the foot of the rocks. Suvla Bay, with Salt Lake and the -wooded and gorsed low land and the hills and the -mountains in the background, are laid out in beautiful -panorama. Achi Baba can be seen in the distance south, -and I have been so used to seeing it from Cape Helles -that the view is quite a novelty.</p> - -<p>Off the bay are three battleships, supply ships, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> -trawlers, lighters, etc. An aeroplane is humming overhead, -and our guns on shore are continually barking away, while -little puffs of shrapnel from the Turkish batteries burst -over and about the wooded low lands, Salt Lake and -Chocolate Hill, where our front line runs, denoted by the -crackle of musketry.</p> - -<p>The view is most interesting, the brownish-green gorges—leading -to the sea—with their clouds of dust denoting -the industry within. Behind me, purple Turkish hills, -every point of which is held by the enemy. Then in between -our line and the hills the scrubby low-lying country, -all buff and green, the cultivated land, and the olive groves. -I look at it hopelessly—for I know now, as we all do, -that the conquest of the Peninsula is more than we can -hope for. All that is left to us is to hang on day by day. -It is anything but a cheery prospect. Death in various -forms walks with us always; the sad processions of sick -and wounded—chiefly the former—move down to the -hospital ships every day; we see all our best friends taken, -one after the other—and to what end? The golden chances -have been allowed to slip by; we can never win through -now—so we have to “cling on” to the bitter end.</p> - - -<h3><i>August 30th.</i></h3> - -<p>A beautiful day again! Turkish batteries very busy -all day. Shrapnel and high explosive shell, and also -duelling between Fleet and land batteries. Otherwise all -quiet, nothing doing. Brigade moves down from trenches -to “A” Beach West, and news that we are to go to Imbros -for a rest is circulated. Enemy aeroplane swoops over -like an evil-looking vulture and tries to drop bombs on -Fleet, but has no direct hit to record.</p> - -<p>At nightfall Brigade starts to embark, ready to sail -at daylight. Officers have cabins, and so I am enabled -to have a sleep. Am suffering from one of my beastly -colds, however.</p> - -<p>Nice to get away, after the disappointments of that -worst of all months, August, when we had expected so -much.</p> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_216a"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_216a_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_216a_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">A CAPTURED TURKISH TRENCH, SUVLA BAY.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_216b"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_216b_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_216b_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">A VIEW OF SUVLA BAY.</p> - - <p class="noindent center x-small">Sari Bair (well behind the Turkish lines) can be seen in the background -to the left of the picture.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<h3><i>August 31st.</i></h3> - -<p>Arrive at Imbros at 8 a.m., and Brigade proceeds to -camp on the low land by the sea. I mess with the General -and Staff, and again parcels arrive opportunely with masterpieces -of cakes and sweets, which are seized by the mess -waiter and daintily served up at table.</p> - -<p class="b2">Oh! the relief to get away from shell fire and the chill -atmosphere of death in its crudest form.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="SEPTEMBER">SEPTEMBER</h2> - - -<h3><i>September 1st.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">Start</span> off with my man Lewington on donkeys and a -pack pony across the hills, over a stony, narrow path, with -three little boys in charge of the animals. The way is -sometimes over and sometimes round a line of irregular, -conical-shaped hills, some almost mountains, covered with -thick green gorse, large boulders, rocks, and small stones. -The few valleys are beautifully wooded and dotted with -vineyards growing luscious dark grapes, and also groves -of fig-trees.</p> - -<p>One gets glimpses of the blue Ægean now and again, -and the distant Isthmus of Gallipoli and the Island of -Samothrace, with the coast of Bulgaria still further off. -After two hours’ trek, during which I felt as if I was a -character in the Scriptures, we sighted the village of -Panaghia, and we had a sporting trot down a narrow, -sandy, steep path.</p> - -<p>One little boy on a donkey, who joined us, raced me and -beat me by a short neck. Poor old Lewington was hanging -on to his moke with a pained but polite expression on his -face, and heaved a sigh of relief when we arrived at the -village.</p> - -<p>We pulled up at the Grand Britannia Hotel, recently -so named by a Greek. It is a little broken-down house, -having on the ground floor a boot shop, and on the first -and top floor two small bare rooms.</p> - -<p>After a meal of partridge, omelettes, and honey, with -German beer to drink, I am taken out to an empty -house, and shown to a room furnished only with a -bench.</p> - -<p>My man slept on the landing and I in the room, and I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> -soon fell fast asleep. At midnight I am awakened by -certain creepy insects. I light candles and awake my -man, and we conduct a massacre. Our landlord arrives -on the scene much disturbed, and places my bed in the -centre of the room, whereupon I turn in again and sleep -peacefully for the rest of the night.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 2nd.</i></h3> - -<p>Awake in the morning with the sun streaming in and -with the sounds of cocks crowing and chickens clucking. -Looking out, the view of the conical beautiful hills makes -me almost catch my breath, and, God bless my soul! a -Greek peasant maiden, beauteous to look upon and fair -of complexion, is feeding her pigs and chickens.</p> - -<p>After breakfast at the Grand Britannia Hotel (sounds -like the Ritz, London, doesn’t it?), Duff, of all people, -rolls up with Munro. We all lunch together, and then -roam round the village, buy a few things, and take photographs.</p> - -<p>After tea, Duff goes on to Castra, by the sea on the other -side of the island, and Munro and I go back to camp. It -is beautiful riding back through the hills in the late afternoon. -Perfect day and colouring gorgeous. Nearing -camp we get a fine view of Gallipoli. All is so peaceful -where we are, but just over that narrow strip of sea, war -rules in its most horrible form.</p> - -<p>Have dinner with Cox, of the Essex, who turns in at 8.30, -and I go back to Headquarters and have an after-dinner -smoke with the General and Staff, sitting round a little -table in the marquee lit by candle-light.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 3rd.</i></h3> - -<p>Start off with Phillips on a donkey and pony respectively -over the hills again. A gorgeous morning, and it -is good to be alive. Peasants give us delightful grapes -as we ride along. Sheep are grazing, their bells tinkling, -with a few cows and bullocks, and now and again a covey -of partridges rises.</p> - -<p>Arriving at Panaghia, we have a bottle of beer, and then -go on along the road to Castra, by the sea. Castra is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> -situated on a high hill overlooking the sea, with a few -fishermen’s huts on the beach.</p> - -<p>The Isle of Samothrace, which is a cluster of mountains -rising sheer from the sea, lies opposite. The sea is dead -calm, and of a gorgeous blue. A few fishing boats lie in -a tiny little harbour on the right of the little bay, which is -flanked by hills. In the background are more hills and -low wooded valleys, and we feel as if we had stepped into -the Garden of Eden.</p> - -<p>Duff is here, and we have lunch, after which Duff returns -to camp. Phillips and I go up on the cliff and have a -delightful sleep. Everything is dead quiet, and there is -not a cloud in the sky. We are right away from the world, -and the scene before us—that of the blue Ægean with -Samothrace a few miles away—has not changed for -thousands of years.</p> - -<p>After tea, we have a bathe in beautifully clear, warm -water, and no rocks. The evening closes in, and the -colouring thrown by the declining sun on Samothrace is -beautiful. A boat with a square sail comes sailing home, -looking like “the return of Ulysses.”</p> - -<p>After dinner we turn in and sleep on the floor of the -veranda.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 4th.</i></h3> - -<p>Wake up early. A perfect morning, but a high wind. -Scene beautiful. Talk to an old Greek, who has been all -over the world, and in all the ports of England, and who -has come home to his native island for the rest of his -days. Try fishing, but catch nothing. After lunch, start -back to camp on ponies, stopping at Panaghia for tea, -arriving home at 6.30.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 5th.</i></h3> - -<p>Start off again for Panaghia with Duff and Elliott, and -have lunch there. After lunch we go off to another village, -where an annual holiday is being held. Bands are playing -and the inhabitants are dancing weird native dances, -appearing very solemn about it. Parties are going round -from house to house, visiting and partaking of refreshment,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span> -such as grapes, figs, wine and liqueurs. An old Greek -invites us in, and his wife forces us to have grapes, melon, -jelly, and liqueurs. I took a bite of cake and was nearly -violently ill.</p> - -<p>We came back another way through vineyards, where -grapes can be had for the asking, olive groves, and fig-tree -orchards.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 6th.</i></h3> - -<p>A fine day again, but windy. No news, but a rumour -that Bulgaria is against us now, and that we shall be in -Gallipoli for the winter. We go back to-morrow night.</p> - -<p>We get up a concert, which takes place in the evening. -We rig up a platform, borrow a piano from the Y.M.C.A., -and make up a programme. I snaffle some champagne -for Headquarters, and after a cheery dinner we go to the -concert. We have some excellent talent, and everybody -thoroughly enjoys it. It is a sight worth seeing—the -platform lit by candles, and the Brigade seated around -on the sand: some of those who took part in the landing, -some recently in the fighting at Suvla, and new drafts -who had not yet tasted war.</p> - -<p>“The Defence of Lucknow” was recited by Lieutenant -Butler, of the Worcesters, an actor by profession and a -good fellow, and it went splendidly and gripped us all. -New Brigade Major arrives, Wilson, of the Royal Fusiliers.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 7th.</i></h3> - -<p>Awake at five, and on becoming conscious of the fact -that to-day I have to go back to that Peninsula, to remain -there for Lord knows how long, I have the same depressed -feeling, only more so, that one has in the days of school -on the last day of the holiday.</p> - -<p>At 6 a.m. Phillips and I and the Supply Section embark, -and on a tossing trawler, bucking about like a wild horse, -we undergo the misery of a four hours’ crossing in a very -rough sea to Suvla Bay, where we arrive at 10 a.m. We -lie off the <i>Swiftsure</i> for an hour, and then two pinnaces -come alongside, to take us on shore. Shrapnel is bursting -steadily over the low lands, and one or two high explosives<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> -are now and again bursting on “A” Beach and “W” -Beach. We land soon after 11 a.m., and on arrival back -at our part of the promontory we find that our camp -has been moved to the end of the long gully, where on -the side of a hill D.H.Q. are dug in.</p> - -<p>The contours of the country are curious. Great natural -scars run down to a flat plateau washed by the waves. -In these gullies hundreds of men and animals are getting -what protection they can. The Engineers are building a -road, on one side of which is a row of dugouts, artfully -hidden by a row of great boulders. This is our advanced -Horse Transport depot, and a pretty hot shop, as the Turks -have the exact range. In front of the dugouts are the -horse-lines, where rows and rows of mules and horses are -packed into the throat of the gorge for shelter. A dry -watercourse winds down the gorge, so the place will be -impossible in winter; as it is, Death takes his daily toll -of men and animals, while down the path comes a never-ending -procession of sick and wounded from the front -line, and very occasionally a prisoner or two. Up the -same path, at night, the reinforcements march to rest in -dugouts just behind the line until their turn to take over -arrives. To the left of the gorge a huge rocky point runs -out to the sea—this point also is a thick mass of men -and animals, practically in the open, so limited is space. -Truly an unfriendly and uninviting country. The hot -dust is over everything—the flies torment, and shells take -their toll of us, while we are powerless to hit back. The -mouth of the gorge widens to the beach, where there are -three tiny bays, which with the plateau form “A” Beach: -Kangaroo Beach, with its lighter and pontoon quays, its -sand-bagged dugouts, and the like; West Beach—the main -landing-place, with rather better piers and offices; and -Little West Beach, a sort of overflow to West Beach -proper, embellished with a tram line for horse-drawn -trucks, the Ordnance depot, etc.—all these places are -swarming with men, and over all hangs the eternal dust!</p> - -<p>Further along on the plateau from West Beach, and -looking towards Lala Baba, is the Supply depot and the -watering-places for the animals, all in the open, with no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span> -protection at all: a wonderful spectacle, if you like to think -of it, and only possible because John Turk is short of -ammunition. Here in the bare open the troops live from -day to day, a few sand-bags only between them and death, -and very few of the dugouts boast a real roof; blankets -and waterproof sheets answer that purpose, and so it is -not difficult to imagine the havoc wrought when shrapnel -is about. To the north lies the bold, forbidding point, -before mentioned, with the waves flinging their white -manes in anger against its sides. Such, roughly, is Suvla -Bay as I see it now, and I cannot say that it impresses -me as a practical proposition.</p> - -<p>Dug in on the side of a slope the others have built a -house, or, as far as dugouts in Gallipoli go, a summer -residence. The door faces the rise leading up to the rugged -point, from the craggy back of which one sees the cliff-side -dropping sheer to the sea.</p> - -<p>The roof of corrugated iron slopes at the same angle -as the slope of the ground in which we have dug. For -walls, the dugout earth forms the back wall, and the side -walls are built of biscuit boxes. We spend the day improving -on this. Immediately in front is our Supply -depot, divided into three dumps, one each for the 86th, -87th, and 88th Brigades. At dusk the pack-mules and -A.T. carts form up, and we load on to the set of mules -or carts allotted to each unit the rations and fuel. The -transport then moves off by Brigades to the front, the -mules led by Drabis, the carts driven also by Drabis, and -the whole escorted by Indian N.C.O.’s under a white -N.C.O. Q.M.S.’s Transport N.C.O.’s, guides of the units, -and the A.S.C. Transport Officer accompany them to the -respective battalion and dumps, situated a distance of -two hundred to three hundred yards behind the front line. -In some cases convoys proceed direct to the regimental -cookhouses. The transport dares not show itself by day. -To-night our Brigade arrives from Imbros, and is to spend -the night in De Lisle’s Gully, some short distance to the -left of the road that leads to Lone Tree Gully, but up the -hill rather, and so our rations go there. Water has been -put there for them by Carver last night. We watch this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> -water question closely. It needs careful handling and foresight. -A man can go hungry much longer than he can go -thirsty, and water is far more difficult to transport by -sea than food. Imbros is the source of our supply, and -water-tank lighters are filled there and towed over each day.</p> - -<p>The water dump is on “A” Beach, and all the Divisions -that are being supplied from this promontory draw from -this dump. An able man, one Private Jones, is in charge. -Though before the war an L.C.C. school-teacher, he appears -to be the one man in the world who could be chosen to -be the most efficient and tactful organizer of the difficult -task of satisfying an army of 30,000 men with their -daily requirements of water, from a limited source, and -by means of a limited supply of receptacles, steadily -diminishing in number.</p> - -<p>At seven I go up with Carver to the H.Q. of the 86th -Brigade. Instead of walking up the road that leads to -Pine Tree Gully, we bear off to the right, and pass along -a lower road through the wooded, gorse-covered low lands -for a distance of about a mile and a half inland, until -bullets are merrily singing their song of war overhead. -“Zi-i-ip” goes one between us. A pause in the conversation, -and Carver says, “That was not pleasant,” to which -I agree, but adding, “If hit, it means Blighty, my boy, -the Savoy, and theatres, or ‘Finish,’ as we say in Egypt.”</p> - -<p>We come to a wide space in front of us, and to our left -is high ground, rising in one place to about 30 feet. -Carver tells me that we are at Brigade dumping-ground. -A.T. carts are packed here in readiness to bring the baggage -back to the beach for the 86th Brigade, as it is their turn -now to go to Imbros.</p> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_224"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_224_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_224_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">GENERAL DE LISLE’S HEADQUARTERS, SUVLA BAY.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p>He searches for his Staff Captain in the dark, and I go -up to the bushes in front and talk to Baxter, the Quartermaster -of the Munsters, and a few other officers who are -sitting down on a rock. As I stand there I hear close -to my ear “zi-i-ip”—an unseen hand appears to strike -a bush with a big stick on my left. Baxter says, “You -are standing in a place where bullets keep dropping. You -should sit down. One just passed your head.” I am -always sensitive as to how to behave on these occasions, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> -with men whose lives are always passed in the trenches, -and so I reply “Did it?” I heard the thing plain enough, -and sat down promptly. I have learned to take my cue -as to what to do from such men, and they are always right. -Many a man has been hit by totally disregarding the -necessity of taking cover, believing that others may think -he has “cold feet,” and he wishes to prove that he is brave -by bravado. He forgets he is more useful to his country -alive. There are many times when he must take risk, -so it is wiser for him to reserve his bravado for those times.</p> - -<p>I sit down, and a minute after, “zi-i-ip” again, and -thud into the bush. Baxter tells me that it is only this -corner which is dangerous, but that they are sitting there -because it is a nice seat and the only one handy for waiting. -If you walk about the rest of the space, the bullets are -flying high and one is safe. This happens all over the -Peninsula, owing to the curious formation of the land. -At one area of a certain spot, bullets may hit the ground -regularly on or near that part, while a few yards away they -fly high. Soon one becomes familiar with this peculiarity -and acts accordingly. It is because some Turks may be -on a rise, others on the ground. They generally fire at -nothing in particular, but straight in front of them. All -night they fire away—crack, crack, crack, crack—and -must waste a lot of ammunition.</p> - -<p>Carver, having finished his arrangements, calls me, and -we walk back a short distance over a small rise, threading -our way along a path no doubt used not long since by -Turkish farmers; descending a slope, we pass to the right -by a little hill not more than 30 feet high, and make -towards a light, which is 86th Brigade H.Q. We are -walking up to the door, and can see General Percival and -Thomson sitting in the mess-room dugout. When we -are four yards away from them the General says, “Good -evening, Carver,” when Carver, to my astonishment, -using a fearful oath, disappears into the earth. The light -from H.Q. mess dazzles my eyes somewhat, and I stop -dead, still looking at the place where Carver had performed -his pantomimic vanishing trick, when he again appears, -looking foolish. He had neatly stepped into a dugout,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> -which, I found out after, was waiting to be filled in, and -we had not noticed it on account of the light in our eyes. -We go in and chat, and I tell them of the joys and beauty -which they are to taste and see on Imbros.</p> - -<p>Back to the beach, where I find our Staff Captain, -Hadow, arrived. The Brigade is arriving, hundreds of -dark, shadowy figures quietly falling in in platoons and -marching off inland. I talk to Mould awhile about the -eternal topic—water—and then turn in.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 8th.</i></h3> - -<p>To-night I go up to Brigade, this time a different way -across country, following a guide who has been down for -rations and tells me he knows a quick way. We pass in -and out of boulders and clumps of gorse, down the rocky -gully where D.H.Q. were for a few nights, past clumps -of trees, over grass, over an open space with more pinging -bullets than ever, at last to H.Q., and find them all sitting -in darkness, and the General rather anxious about the -non-arrival of two of his battalions, who have missed -their way and are having a country night ramble all over -the place, groping about in the dark.</p> - -<p>Coming back, I pass the Hampshires, and an officer -asking me the way, I direct him to H.Q.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 14th.</i></h3> - -<p>The past days, since I last entered up my Diary, have -been so monotonous that in a fit of sulkiness I threw it -on one side, saying I would not record another day’s events, -for nothing happens. The monotony knocks Helles sideways. -I go up every morning to D.H.Q. at the top of -our gully to take instructions. I see the Main Supply -depot to arrange drawing the day’s supplies. I wire the -strength of the Division to G.H.Q. I read papers three -to four weeks old; I answer letters of the same age. Some -days I go up the slope opposite our bivouac, and, climbing -down the cliff on the other side, have a topping bathe. -I strafe flies by the thousand—they are a damnable pest. -I watch the battleships pooping away, and at odd times -have to duck from a Turkish shell. At dusk I superintend<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> -the loading up of rations and water, and go up to Brigade -H.Q. for a chat. The atmosphere of their company, -however, always bucks me up.</p> - -<p>Our guns poop off at odd intervals each day, and ammunition -appears to be becoming more plentiful. The Turks -are continually busy with shrapnel over Chocolate Hill -and the low land, especially at Hill 10, where we have -several batteries, and now and again the beaches.</p> - -<p>“C” Beach, on the other side of Lala Baba, over the -bay, however, gets it far worse than we do. However, -generally speaking, I do not think that the Turk fires as -much as we do.</p> - -<p>Well, I will continue the Diary: things cannot go on -like this for ever, and the best thing to do is to accept the -life as it comes and treat everything as a matter of course—even -shells. All of us who have been on here any length -of time feel that our time to get hit will eventually arrive. -Personally, I prefer the sledge-hammer blow from the -unseen hand—namely, a bullet from a rifle.</p> - -<p>I have been feeling very seedy the last few days, with the -common complaint that men are going sick fast with now.</p> - -<p>I went up to the Brigade to-night, but felt very ill when -there, and was glad to swallow a strong brandy which the -General offered to me. Coming back over the gorse, bullets -seemed freer than usual, thudding into the bushes on my -right and left. I felt sick and faint, and sat down waiting -for an empty mule-cart returning on its way to the beach. -One soon came, with two men of the Essex, and I was thankful -for the lift home. “Pukka” original 29th men of the -Essex, and good fellows.</p> - -<p>About a dozen motor-lorries have landed, and I have -managed to snaffle four of them to draw supplies from the -Main Supply depot to our divisional depot, both now at -this end of the promontory. Transport at this end of -the promontory, if not too congested, only gets shelled -at very rare intervals during the day—not sufficient to -stop its work. Motor-lorries make the time that we take -in drawing much shorter, and I wonder that they were -not at Helles. Before, we used A.T. carts for this drawing -here, and it took up practically the whole morning.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span></p> - -<p>We do not have such good targets as the Turks have. -To them we are laid out as a panorama, and to us they -are dug in out of sight on the slopes of rocky, almost -impregnable fastnesses.</p> - -<p>To-day we have heard the boom of guns from the south, -and there must be a heavy bombardment going on there.</p> - -<p>The weather has broken, and we get a strong wind -blowing each day now, frequently developing into a gale. -A cold wind is now and again thrown in, and at nights -we get a little rain. It is very rough, and difficulty is -being experienced in landing stuff.</p> - -<p>Told that good news will be published to-night.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 15th.</i></h3> - -<p>Heavy rain before breakfast this morning. Clears off later.</p> - -<p>Everybody busy digging in. Can see new airship going -up at Imbros. It has not yet made an active trip. <i>Prince -George</i> is firing with a heavy list in order to get long range. -Probably firing at Chanak.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 16th and 17th.</i></h3> - -<p>Each day the battleships, at odd intervals, fire at various -targets on shore—first, a small hill rising from the high -ground on the Turkish right, which we have named the -Pimple, and on which Turkish batteries are in position; -next on Anafarta and Burnt Hill, behind Chocolate Hill; -next on to the slopes of Sari Bair. Our batteries on shore -occasionally fire off a few rounds. Owing, I suppose, to -the fact that there are hills in front of us, the sound of -guns firing is louder than it was at Helles. When our -18-pounder batteries on shore fire, the noise of the report -is very much like a door upstairs banging loudly on a -windy day.</p> - -<p>I am getting much fitter, and think it is because I manage -to get a bathe now and again.</p> - -<p>There is a good place where I bathe and often visit, -not so very far from our dugout. It is a little cove, plentifully -besprinkled with huge boulders and protected on -all sides. We walk up the rugged slope opposite our -dugout to the top of the cliff. Then there is a difficult<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> -descent down the sheer face of the cliff to the water’s edge. -It seems so odd, to be on this little patch of rock where -we seem to leave the war miles behind us. Then we hear -it muttering and grumbling in the hills above and behind -us—sometimes, when least expected, a battleship looses -off with a roar that shakes the crags above us—but we -are safe, quite safe, as no shells can reach this spot; and -so, in the midst almost of this welter of blood, disease, and -death, quite light-heartedly we proceed to the most peaceful -of pastimes—bathing.</p> - -<p>I go up to H.Q. after dinner and enjoy the walk, feeling -ready for bed when I return.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 18th.</i></h3> - -<p>It has been very quiet this morning. The work of getting -supplies on shore, carting them up to the Main Supply -depot, and from there to the several divisional depots, -goes on now day and night like a well-managed business. -The Main Supply depot is rapidly accumulating a reserve -of supplies for us to fall back on should bad weather set -in and prevent us landing on some days. I learn that -we now have sufficient preserved food in the Main depot -to feed 60,000 men and 5,000 animals on shore for a month, -and soon there will be stores for six weeks.</p> - -<p>At five o’clock the Turks sprang a surprise bombardment -on to the left of our line, and simultaneously, just -as I was walking the few yards from our Supply depot -to our men, four 18-pounder shrapnel burst overhead. All -about the depot dive for cover, and many of them rush -into our dugout, it being the most handy. A minute -only and four more come, burst overhead, the bullets -rattling on the shrapnel-proof roof. Foley is with me; -Way and Carver are up on the cliff in a safe spot. Petro -is up on the high ground behind our dugout, having gone -there to watch a battleship firing on to Burnt Hill, while -Phillips is down on the beach, looking after a water-cart. -Never before have we had 18-pounder shrapnel burst as -far up the promontory as this, and we are naturally surprised -how the Turks could have pushed one of their -batteries so close up to get the range. As fast as we put<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> -our heads out to see if Phillips or Petro is about, a salvo -of four shells arrives over, most of them bursting in the -neighbourhood of our depot and a few on the beach further -over to the left. No one is about; all have gone to ground -like rabbits. They give it us hot and strong for fifteen -minutes, and then stop. All the time the battleships have -been firing, and I think must have got on to this particular -battery. We cautiously come out of our dugout and look -about. Gradually men all over the beaches appear from -all directions and go about their respective jobs. Petro -turns up from a dugout close by, beaming all over his face, -and says that he had done a hundred yards’ sprint over -boulders and rocks in record time, at the finish making a -beautiful head-dive into the nearest dugout that he could -see, on to a half-dozen Tommies crouching inside. We -then see Phillips limping up from the beach, being helped -by two Tommies. I run down to him, and we go to the -11th Division Casualty Clearing Station. We unwind the -puttee of his left leg, which had been hit, when a shrapnel -bullet rolls out and runs along the floor like a marble. I -pick it up and put it in his pocket. It had drilled a hole -clean through his leg, just above the ankle, through which -blood is pouring freely. He is bound up and, though in -great pain, perspiration pouring off his face, keeps smiling -and cheerful. One of the most painful parts of the body -to be hit is just above the ankle. When the first four -shells burst he fell flat behind a big boulder, which protected -all of him but his long legs, and after the third or -fourth salvo he felt the sledge-hammer blow of a bullet -and knew he was hit. Lying there wounded while other -shells burst overhead was a beastly experience for him, -and he thanked his stars when it was all over. With one -arm around my shoulder he leans on me and slowly limps -back to our dugout, I hoping that they won’t burst out -again. I lay him on my bed; the swarms of flies that -are with us always now buzz round the wound, which I -cover up with muslin. I go up to O’Hara to tell him, -and find there some of our D.H.Q. Staff, just back from -the line, having had to clear quickly when the attack -opened.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span></p> - -<p>When O’Hara gets back with me we find Phillips has -gone off, assuring the others that he will be back in a -month.</p> - -<p>The Turkish gunners were too quick for old Phillips -this time, giving him no chance to read their minds. But -thank the Lord he is wounded and not gone West! I -miss him to-night, and feel depressed, and wonder how -long I shall remain on this God-forsaken place or how long -it will be before my turn comes to get hit.</p> - -<p>It is now a beautiful moonlight night, quiet, calm, and -still, and an enemy aeroplane sails over, making a circle -of the bay.</p> - -<p>I have got an idea that the old Turk is laughing at -us now.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 19th.</i></h3> - -<p>A fairly quiet day. Beautiful calm moonlight night. -Have to get water up from “A” Beach to De Lisle’s Gully -ready for the 86th, who arrive to-morrow. Thank Heaven -it is moonlight. Go up first to H.Q. of Brigade by car. -Country smells lovely. We have not been here long -enough yet to spoil the land. Hardly a rifle shot in front. -Go over to De Lisle’s Gully and back to D.H.Q., up to -Brigade again, and once more; then to the gully, arriving -home at midnight. Actually enjoyed the trip, but looking -at the calm sea and moon, and the landscape of mountain -and gorse, with the continual chirping of the crickets, how -I longed, craved, and yearned for the day when Peace will -be declared.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 20th.</i></h3> - -<p>Turks shell us unceasingly all morning, several shells -coming near our depot, but they are only light shells, and -many of them do not explode. A Newfoundland regiment -joins our Brigade. They get shelled while on the beach, -just an hour after landing, and suffer casualties. They -appear to look upon it as a huge joke.</p> - -<p>Way and Carver come back. 86th Brigade due from -Imbros to-morrow. Hear that Captain Koebel, who came -over with me from Alexandria at the end of July, has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span> -died of wounds. We became great friends on board the -<i>Anglo-Egyptian</i> in July.</p> - -<p>Go up to Brigade by night. Beautiful moonlight night -again. Go up by car. Nothing doing. Lachard joins us -now in place of Phillips.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 21st.</i></h3> - -<p>Fairly quiet to-day so far. Though just as I go over -to depot this morning several shells fly overhead. Horrid -feeling when you are in the open. Very fine day, but flies -terrible. All quiet on front. Exactly a month now since -last battle.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 22nd.</i></h3> - -<p>All quiet up to 3.30 p.m., when we had a very bad -shelling, and there were several casualties in the valley. -Fortunately it only lasted half an hour. Our men are -busy making shrapnel-proof head cover. One gun somewhere -by Sari Bair is very fond of chucking over, to our -camps on this promontory, 5·9 shrapnel. One does not -hear the boom of the gun, which I think must be a howitzer. -The first warning one has of the thing coming is a sound -like some one blowing with his lips very softly. This -gets louder and louder, until with a cat-like shriek and -bang it explodes over one’s head. Having to depend on -being warned by such a common sound is of course the -cause of many false alarms. In fact, a man blowing with -his lips is sufficient to make another man cock his ears -and listen.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 23rd.</i></h3> - -<p>A quiet day, but for the usual cannonading on both -sides, a few 5·9 shrapnel shells coming our way at four -in the afternoon. Reinforcements arriving daily. A cold -gale blowing all day. At six we have another bout of shelling, -while we are loading up A.T. carts, one shell pitching -right in our depot, and one of our poor chaps being badly -hit, from which he is not expected to recover. (He has -since died. A nice boy, only nineteen.)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>September 24th.</i></h3> - -<p>A quiet morning. News reaches us that Bulgaria is -in, but whether for us or against us is uncertain. Naturally, -therefore, there is a feeling of great anxiety prevalent. -We hope to have more definite news to-night. Heavy -gale blowing this morning, calming down later. A very -quiet day, no shells coming our way. At Anzac, at eight -to-night, a bit of a severe battle took place, probably a -Turkish attack. There was a continual roar of musketry -and shells bursting on the side of Sari Bair. It was a -surprise attack on the part of the New Zealanders, and -so far has proved successful. Firing developed along our -front from Chocolate Hill, and a feeble Turkish attack -started in front of our Brigade, the Worcesters taking -the blow. It was with ease beaten off, and died away -after half an hour. We lost about twelve men.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 25th.</i></h3> - -<p>A quiet day; just the usual artillery duels, no shells -coming our way. Walked up to Brigade H.Q. in the -evening. Battalion of the London Regiment joins Brigade. -Lovely moonlight night. Rather a lot of firing on our -front, and bullets a bit free. Meet Stewart and Lachard -at Brigade, Stewart having come to relieve Lachard, who -is going back to Helles. Walked back together. A bright -flash from the <i>Swiftsure</i> in the bay denotes that she has -fired one of her big guns, and a few seconds after a loud -report is heard, and the rumble of a shell as it passed over -Sari Bair on to “somewhere” goes on for a long time -before one hears the distant report of its burst. I hear -the sound of propellers overhead, and think I can see the -airship from Imbros sailing over towards Anafarta. The -<i>Swiftsure</i> fires once more, and then all is quiet for an hour. -Then a Turkish battery puts a shell over to us, and follows -this up with one every ten minutes, continuing for an hour!</p> - - -<h3><i>September 26th.</i></h3> - -<p>Awakened in the morning by the 5·9 shrapnel coming -over and bursting overhead, and we are subjected to an -hour of it. None of our men hit, but about four mules<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> -hit. A beautiful day and sea calm; work of unloading -stores proceeds apace. Artillery duels, but no shells come -our way till four, when one shell bursts uncomfortably -near. One feels a bit shaky for an hour after such an -event, but we have got to stick it.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 27th.</i></h3> - -<p>A very fine day, but a trifle hot; the flies seem to be -swarming more than ever, and they are a great plague. -Usual artillery duel from the batteries on shore and the -Fleet in the bay. Seeing a lot of Arthur McDougall now, -an awfully nice boy in Middlesex Yeomanry. Hear that -O’Hara, our D.A.Q.M.G., is leaving the Division. All of -us very sorry to lose him. Has got a lieutenant-colonelcy -at G.H.Q., and deserves the push up. At 7.30 p.m. -a burst of rifle fire started at Chocolate Hill. All -the batteries on shore took it up; the warships in the -bay joined in—battleships and Monitors and the like—and -such an infernal din is now heard that the whole -Peninsula seems to shake, and the evening sky is studded -with innumerable flashes, right away to Anzac and beyond. -It is very impressive, and lasts for an hour and a half. It -turned out to be all panic. There has been good news -of the French in Champagne; somebody in the trenches -cheered—everybody else let his rifle off—and then the -whole pandemonium started! The Turk never replied at -all, and there was no attack; the moon shining peacefully -above must have smiled at the folly of man this -night!</p> - -<p>Go up to Brigade with Carver and Stewart. Moonlight -night, the bay looking beautiful and quite enjoyable, except -over the bullet-swept area. Called at 86th H.Q. on the -way back, and picked up Way, and had a chat with -Thomson, who had just come back from staying at Athens -for a few days.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 28th.</i></h3> - -<p>Wood, of the Essex Regiment, comes in early, and I give -him a bed and breakfast and have a long chat about life -here. Has just come back from a month’s leave. Now<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> -has his majority. Get up to see O’Hara off. Peaceful -morning; beaches represent hives of industry. Engineers -busy making a pier out of a sunken ship, their hammers -reminding one of the happy days of civilian life in the -work towns of the North and Centre of England. An -Indian shepherd is guarding his flock of sheep (destined -to be slaughtered for the Indian troops) in front of our -dugout on the slopes of the hill, while the distant roar -of guns can be heard further south. Cooke arrives from -Helles to join us. Hear that Collier is leaving us, so that -we are now without a major or a colonel. Go up to H.Q. -in car at nine, with a London Regiment officer and Arthur -McDougall. Very bumpy ride. Find Stewart there. A -bullet has knocked Stewart’s hat off, but he does not seem -to be upset much, and when he gets back just calmly -sews up the two burnt holes. Getting water up to troops -still entailing a lot of worry and work. The water is pumped -from lighters through a pipe which dips into the sea. -Yesterday water was very salt, as sea-water had got in. -Was very ill in the night through this. Called up in night -as water-carts had gone to wrong place and a further -supply had to be sent up. This water business is the -worst of all. All the animals have to be taken down to -water at the usual times. A Transport Officer from the -depot here, who has been down to see me once or twice -on business, has told me that in his opinion the most -trying duty of all is seeing the animals watered. The -troughs are in full sight of the Turkish gunners, and the -long lines of dust emerging from the transport gully give -the clue. He tells me that this is when he gets jumpy. -Absolutely in the open—water trickling into the troughs -slowly—and he has to stand and see that every beast has -enough. Then the shelling starts—mules fall, but still -the others must have their fill and not be <i>hurried</i>, and it -seems like hours, and some of the beasts all unconscious—appearing -as if they will never finish. It must be a merry -job—and it has to be done three times a day. An officer -has to be present, or the overwhelming temptation to -hurry up and get off becomes too much for the men, and -no wonder!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>September 29th.</i></h3> - -<p>Camp Commandant comes to inform us that we have -to clear out of our place, which is comparatively safe, and -move to an exposed position further inland, in full view -of the Turks. We shall be absolutely shelled out if we -have a Supply depot there, with A.T. carts and motor-lorries -coming to and fro from Main Supply depot all day, and -it will cripple our work. Hope to get this order cancelled.</p> - -<p>Have told D.H.Q., who have promised to see Camp -Commandant. Usual artillery firing all day, and ship’s -guns joining in. Submarines have been busy. One French -transport sunk and two British—one empty and one containing -Gurkhas and Punjabis. <i>Swiftsure</i> had a narrow -escape the other day, two torpedoes just missing her.</p> - - -<h3><i>September 30th.</i></h3> - -<p>A very fine day, not a cloud in the sky; very hot, and -flies, now in myriads, perfectly appalling. See Camp -Commandant as to moving our Supply depot to the exposed -part of the Peninsula. Finally he gives way, and -finds another and safer place for us at the foot of IX Corps -Gully. Hardly any shelling from Turks, but our guns -busy and battleships as well. Go up to Brigade in evening. -Quiet night, and so ends September, a deadly month. No -movement on our part all the month: no action, except -little mirror stunts such as straightening our line, digging -saps, bombing expeditions, and artillery duels. All the -time we steadily lose killed and wounded and a seriously -large percentage of sick, and we drift and drift on.</p> - -<p class="b2"><i>To where?</i></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="OCTOBER">OCTOBER</h2> - - -<h3><i>October 1st.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">A very</span> misty morning, everything hidden in the valleys, -also the ships in the harbour. At one o’clock we are shelled -by high explosives and 5·9 shrapnel, and it lasts an hour; -very unpleasant. I hate the shelling more and more as -time goes on.</p> - -<p>Some mysterious move is going on. The 87th, now at -Imbros, have wired for their machine guns, and rumours -that troops have left here during the last two nights are -about. Has Bulgaria come in against us?</p> - - -<h3><i>October 2nd.</i></h3> - -<p>A beautiful cool summer day, but flies still swarming -about. Artillery very busy on our side. In afternoon -walk up with Stewart to Brigade H.Q. Beautiful country -walk through gorse, little hills and dales, trees and olive -groves. On arrival at Brigade H.Q. and looking back, -the scene is beautiful, with the bay shimmering in the -sun and the Fleet and transports lying at anchor. The -formidable hills in front look beautiful also, and hardly a -rifle shot comes from the Turkish lines. But all the time -our shore batteries and the ships are booming away, but -feebly replied to by the Turks. On the way up we just -miss coming under the beastly 5·9 shrapnel. We stay -to tea with Hadow, the Staff Captain, now Major, and -after have a nice walk back. Arriving on the promontory, -we see them shelling the road that we have passed along. -We find on our return that the beaches had been “strafed” -again by high explosives, killing and wounding a few.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 3rd.</i></h3> - -<p>A quiet, beautiful Sunday morning, the sea like glass. -I have lunch with McDougall half-way up the high ground<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> -of the promontory, outside his dugout, right behind large -boulders of stone. He provides us an excellent lunch, -and we might be on holiday together. No firing of any -kind. After lunch, however, shore batteries and ships -get active, while the distant rumble of guns is heard from -Helles. At four we have our daily ration of the 5·9 shrapnel -or “Whistling Rufus.”</p> - -<p>We move our Supply depot up to the foot of the gully -at the head of which is IX Corps H.Q.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 4th.</i></h3> - -<p>Heavy Turkish bombardment takes place at nine o’clock -this morning over Anzac, developing towards Chocolate -Hill. At ten, rifle fire starts, denoting a Turkish attack, -but in half an hour it dies away, the Turks having been -beaten off. During this time we are shelled by high explosives, -and remaining in our dugouts, as we hear each -shell coming over our way we cannot help gently ducking -our heads. It is instinct, but yet very funny. We must -look like nodding Chinese idols.</p> - -<p>In the afternoon we have 9-inch shells thrown over to -us, but it only lasts half an hour. Go up to Brigade H.Q.; -not much firing in front.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 5th.</i></h3> - -<p>A beautiful summer day again. Turks shell us from -8 a.m. till 10 a.m., but all duds. No news, and no prospect -of any progress in this campaign. Our aeroplanes up.</p> - -<p>At 9.30 a.m. the Turks begin and are very busy all day -with their shells. Our batteries do not reply much, and the -battleships are practically silent all day. We have no -shrapnel, though, but at four o’clock about a dozen 9-inch -high explosives come over, and rather too near us to be -pleasant. One shell pitched right in one of my battalion -dumps, the 1st London, just arrived from Malta, and -attached to our Brigade. We are therefore moving them -to a safer place.</p> - -<p>In our camp now we have the two Supply Sections of -the 86th and 88th Brigades and representatives of each -regiment in the Brigades, consisting of a Quartermaster<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span> -or his sergeant, and a corporal and three privates. They -look after the interests of their respective regiments on -the beach, drawing supplies, ordnance, R.E. stores, letters, -and baggage, which they escort up to the regiment each -night by the mule-carts. New officers arriving and officers -returning from hospital use our camp as a half-way house -to the trenches. All drafts arriving are met by these -battalions’ representatives and “looked after” generally -by day and guided to their units by night.</p> - -<p>Had a lovely bathe this morning with McDougall, Tooth, -Carver, and Way at the foot of the cliffs. Very peaceful -and beautiful, and it was hard to realize that there was a -war on. In the far distance, across the Gulf of Saros could -just be discerned the coast of Bulgaria, the country on -which the eyes of all the world are turned at the moment. -In a day or two we shall know whether she has joined our -enemies or not.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 6th.</i></h3> - -<p>Woke up at seven by a shell whistling over our dugout, -but no more follow. Curious how, when one is sleepy, shells -do not strike fear in one. A perfect summer morning. -Artillery on our side very active. Go on board <i>Swiftsure</i> -for lunch with Carver. Guest of Fleet-Surgeon Jeans, a -charming little man. Had a glass of beer! And the -lunch! Nice white tablecloth, attentive stewards, excellent -food, and cheery society. Topping fellows. -Half an hour after lunch have a “pukka” hot bath. -The luxury thereof! And then take snapshots of the -ship and of a group of officers. We get a good view -of Suvla from the deck: the sandy beach, and to -the left the three landing-places, crowded with lighters, -launches, etc., and with khaki figures. Further to the -left, the rocky part with its fringe of surf, and the frowning -crags above towering away in masses into the blue distance. -Behind the landing-places the ground slopes abruptly up to -the gorges, crowded with dugouts and transport lines. -To the right, Lala Baba with its sandy cliffs and the low -plateau beyond, with the Salt Lake, stand out clearly. -Further to the right one catches a glimpse of “C” Beach,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> -with its white hospital tents along the sea’s rim, and in -the offing, silent and slim, loom the three hospital ships -taking in their freight of broken humanity. There are -never less than three such ships of mercy here, which gives -one some idea of the daily human wastage, when one -remembers that they are big P. & O. and B. I. liners. We -are told by one of the Gunnery Lieutenants that at 4 p.m. -ship is going to fire on a blockhouse just by the Pimple, -on the left of our line. While on board, the ship’s guns -“loose” off. It is a curious sensation. We watch their -shells bursting inland, and realize for the first time the -difference between shelling and being shelled. Get back -on smart pinnace at 2.30. Get shelled a bit at 3.30. Go -up to British H.Q. to watch the Pimple bombardment. -At four precisely <i>Swiftsure</i> poops off with 12-inch and -6-inch guns. Also <i>Prince George</i> and a Monitor, and -the shore batteries. Up the Gulf of Saros a torpedo-boat -destroyer and Monitor are firing in flank. Poor old Pimple! -Can’t see it for dust and smoke. <i>Prince George</i> has a -premature burst, splinters doing ducks and drakes across -the bay. Hear machine guns at five. Cease fire at six, -and we go back home. The little coves at end of point -are now absolutely altered from their original geographical -formation by the Engineers during the past months. -Breakwaters, piers, dugout offices, stores depots, landing-stages, -etc., have come into being, and they are now -hives of industry, never slacking night and day. As at -Helles, star shells sail up and down gently all night along -our line. In the darkness of the sky over Sari Bair, the -reflection of the rays of Chanak searchlight plays, but -not so brightly as seen from Helles.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 7th.</i></h3> - -<p>Ships firing very early this morning. <i>Swiftsure</i> left -last night. Soon after ten this morning Turkish 8·2 gun -opens fire on the <i>Prince George</i>, and at the third shot hit -her. <i>Prince George</i> and the other ship open fire. Later -the <i>Prince George</i> is hit again, this time just beneath the -funnels, causing wreckage among boats. She alters her -position, the duel still continuing. She is hit twice again,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> -and then moves further out. Turkish gun then shuts up. -Soon after 11 a.m. the 5·9 shrapnel comes whistling over -to us, and nine of them, one after the other, at short intervals -of two or three minutes, burst over our camp -and the beaches, causing casualties. A beautiful summer -day again, but flies as bad as ever.</p> - -<p>I walk with Way to Brigade, his Brigade H.Q. having -moved just in front of ours. As we go up we hear a whopping -big shell go over to the beach, and looking back, we see it -burst, kicking up a great deal of dust. Have tea with -Thomson and General Percival. Afterwards call in at -88th, and walk back at dark. A bullet hits a bush at -Way’s feet just as we are walking over the little bit of -hillock after leaving 88th H.Q. A few others drop near -by. Way tells me that when bullets are about his head -always feels ten times as big as it really is. Yet he never -worries at all when shells are about. It is curious, but -shells make me feel very uneasy and limp, while bullets -don’t bother me at all now. The ways of nerves are difficult -to understand. When we arrive back we find that the -beaches have been strafed a lot in our absence.</p> - - -<h3><i>9 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>A bit of a strafe is taking place at Anzac, heavy rifle -fire and shells bursting. Very fine sight, seeing the white -flashes of flame bursting out of the black night.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 8th.</i></h3> - -<p>All to-day there have been ceaseless artillery duels, -warships and shore batteries taking part. Never before -have we had such shelling from the Turks at Suvla. It -has been one continual roar of guns from early morning -till dusk. At last, dusk arrives, which is welcomed with -general thanksgiving by the majority on the beach. News -has just come in that Bulgaria and Russia are practically -at war, and this means that in a few days Bulgaria will -be an active enemy of ourselves as well. The Bulgars -no doubt will join the Turks at once, and life on the beaches -will become a hell in the true sense of the word. I hope -that we shall keep our end up and not be ignominiously<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> -defeated on this Peninsula. There have been about sixty -casualties to-day, killed and wounded. Yet the work on -the beach has to go steadily on all the time. It has been -much colder to-day, and some rain has fallen. At night -we have very heavy rain.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 9th.</i></h3> - -<p>A cool summer day. Shelled at 9.30 p.m. Troops -arrive in large numbers. They should have arrived last -night at dark, but it was too rough to land. Lord Howard -de Walden comes down with news that drafts have arrived -unexpectedly for us as well, and we have to prepare for -them. Cannot reconcile the arrival of all these troops -with the opinion that we are here for the winter. Looks -as if we are going to have another battle. Turks very -quiet this morning, yet they must see all these troops -arriving. We wonder that they do not shell them.</p> - -<p>Go up to 86th and 88th Brigades with Way in the afternoon, -and it makes a very pleasant walk. Delightful -country, and up at the Brigades it seems quite restful -after the shelled beaches. Pass General de Lisle on the -way up. Have tea at 86th, and call at 88th on the way -back. General Cayley had a narrow squeak, a splinter of -the case of shrapnel coming right through the roof of his -dugout, just missing his head by inches. He won’t have -his roof sand-bagged. Water question for our Division -now settled, as we have found wells all over the place.</p> - -<p>Just as it is getting dusk 8·2 Turkish gun opens fire -on H.M.S. <i>Glory</i>, but does not hit her, and <i>Prince George</i> -replies. Walker arrives from Helles. I am now O.C. the -29th Division A.S.C. at Suvla, as Carver has gone back -to Helles. Large coveys of birds—I think they are duck -and crane—keep on swooping about over the Peninsula, -and our Tommies pot at them now and again.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 10th.</i></h3> - -<p>Colder this morning—but flies still damnable. Usual -artillery duels, but not so heavy as usual. Several officers -leaving to join Allied troops at Salonica. But later we -hear that they have not been allowed to land, as it is uncertain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> -whether Greece is coming in against us. Not much -shelling all day. Colonel Ekin, 1st London, arrives at -night and we put him up, giving him dinner and a bed in -our dugout. Very decent old boy. He comes along with -the most wonderful rumours, which we drink in.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 11th.</i></h3> - -<p>Very cloudy. Mule Corps at end of promontory get -shelled at ten o’clock for half an hour. Starts to rain at -11.30, and looks as if it is going to set in in earnest. Salt -Lake already under water in some parts, and if we have -a season of rain, it will be a lake in the full sense of the -word, and it will be difficult getting supplies, etc., to the -lines immediately in front of Chocolate Hill. Walked up -with Way again to Brigade H.Q. Beautiful cool, sunny -afternoon after the rain. Had tea with the General at -88th, meeting there our friend of last night, Colonel Ekin. -Morris, Machine Gun Officer, also there in great form, -telling us all about his indirect gun-fire stunts. Hides his -little batteries in a very clever way with gorse, the men -wearing green masks. Colonel Fuller, going round the -trenches the other day, could not make out where the sound -of a machine gun popping off quite close to him was coming -from. He was ten yards away only; it was one of Morris’s -efforts. After the bit of a bombardment the other day -on the Pimple, during which the Turks were driven out -of a redoubt, Morris’s men bagged fifty Turks by indirect -fire. He makes your flesh creep by the cold-blooded way -in which he describes his stunts, but if one thinks of Turks -as partridges it is not so bad. However, we can do with -dozens more Morrises.</p> - -<p>After, go on to see 86th and have a rag with little Reid, -Signal Officer to 86th, aged nineteen, but looks only sixteen.</p> - -<p>Trenches dug through most beautiful country—olive -groves, fig-trees, and vineyards. Grape season over now, -but often Tommy climbed out of his trench and helped -himself, risking Turkish bullets fired at only a hundred -yards away. The blackberry season is now on, and they -are so tempting that venturesome spirits—little Reid himself -proving guilty—climb out after these also.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span></p> - -<p>Looking back from the 86th Brigade H.Q., one can see -the gorse-covered hills, the beautiful, thickly wooded valleys, -while through the trees are peeps of Suvla Bay with the -grey warships at anchor there. Further out, beautiful -Imbros stands out sharp against the setting sun, backed -by a sky of golden-bronze, with feathery purple clouds -trailing across the firmament; the new moon—a delicate -crystal crescent—swings above, dimly reflected in the -dimpling waters.</p> - -<p>A battleship flashes out, followed by a loud report, and -looking towards Anafarta, just over the hills, one sees a -monster flash of fire followed by a muffled report.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 12th.</i></h3> - -<p>Very busy with shelling this morning. Quite a lot of 5·9 -shrapnel coming over to our valley, and almost every shell -accounts for a casualty. About twenty casualties in half -an hour, Sir Randolph Baker being amongst the number, -but he was only wounded slightly; and a rather nice -Naval Landing Officer had a piece taken out of his arm. -Also we had a few 4·7 shells over, and at noon they started -with their 8·2—a terrifying shell.</p> - -<p>Every one this morning very depressed at the news of -the advance of Germans on Serbia and Bulgaria’s attitude. -Greece and Roumania are disappointing factors. I hope -for the sake of this Gallipoli campaign that they come -in on our side.</p> - -<p>After lunch I go up to the Barrier on the rise of ground -on the west road leading to Lone Tree Gully, just two -hundred yards this side, to see about some bombs which -have to be removed. On the way back, the 18-pounder -battery which is in position on the right of the road looking -seaward is in action, and the report of the guns, being so -near, is ear-splitting. I turn round to watch the shrapnel, -beautifully placed on and about the Turkish second line. -Evidently the officer in the O.P. has spotted some movement -of the troops up communication trench. Probably -a relief party.</p> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_244a"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_244a_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_244a_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">4·5 HOWITZER IN ACTION, SUVLA BAY.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<div class="figcenter illowe35 mt2 mb2" style="max-width: 65.5em;" id="i_244b"> - <a rel="nofollow" href="images/i_244b_grayscale.jpg"> - <img class="w100" src="images/i_244b_grayscale.jpg" alt="" /> - </a> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noindent center x-small">29TH DIVISIONAL HEADQUARTERS, SUVLA BAY, HIDDEN FROM THE ENEMY BY -THE SLOPE OF THE HILL.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p>I turn to my left and trip down the rocky hillock leading -to the C.R.E. camp, in the place where D.H.Q. was to be -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> -after the Chocolate Hill battle, and where the bombs from -the Barrier have to go.</p> - -<p>I come back along the lower road which leads to -our D.H.Q., and which is now called the Gibraltar -road, as it leads to the small hill we have called Gibraltar, -which lies between our first line and 86th H.Q. -On the way I meet the 88th Chaplain, and we walk -back together. Behind us we hear three tremendous -explosions over to the left of Chocolate Hill, and looking -back, see columns of smoke and dust. They are caused -by Turkish aerial torpedoes bursting in our front line, -equivalent to a hundred-pound shell, and terribly effective. -Fortunately, they appear to have very few of them, but -we have none at all. There have been sixty-three casualties -on the beach to-day through Turkish gun fire and shrapnel. -At night a great gale springs up, and we have heavy rain, -many men being washed out of their dugouts, having to -spend the night in their wet clothes on the hills.</p> - -<p>A navvy’s battalion has arrived.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 13th.</i></h3> - -<p>A fine day, but a very strong, cold wind blowing down -the Peninsula. Arthur McDougall has now rejoined his -regiment in the trenches. We have now a black cat -in our establishment. It walked in, and we do not -know where it came from. Probably off one of the -boats.</p> - -<p>We were shelled with the 5·9 at eight this morning, -and had about six casualties in this valley. They were, -however, very quiet for the rest of the morning. Just as -Way, Cox, Baxter, and I were leaving for Brigade, they -started to shell, and we were glad to get off the open space -of the beaches. Now they have three guns firing 5·9 -shrapnel at us, and they come over in threes, usually bagging -somebody. The Turks seem to be getting very cocky -lately. They actually cleared away all the barbed wire -that one of our battalions in the 88th had put in front -of our trenches, only fifteen yards in front. Also their -bombing parties are getting very daring, creeping up each -night to within throwing distance of our trenches.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span></p> - -<p>Barbed-wire lines and trenches are now being constructed -further back towards the coast—in case!</p> - -<p>As we are up at Brigade H.Q., we notice one of our -aeroplanes swoop down on to the Salt Lake, obviously -having to make a forced landing. A short pause, during -which we notice the pilot and observer climb out, when -suddenly shrapnel bursts over the machine and very near. -It is quickly followed by another and another, and later -high explosive shells, when the pilot and the observer -scurry away pretty quickly. They are wise, for the -Turkish artillery are now well on to the machine, which -is rapidly becoming a helpless wreck. I should think -they put a hundred shells on that machine before they -stopped.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 14th.</i></h3> - -<p>Last night they tried to disturb our rest by putting one -shell over to us every hour. One seemed to come very -near our dugout, but we were too sleepy to bother. What’s -the good?</p> - -<p>At eight this morning they get very busy again with -their shelling, and at nine three of the big deadly shrapnel -come over at once, followed a few minutes after by three -more, and then later still another three. It is evident -that they cannot spare very many of these every day, -but after each bout the cry of “Stretcher-bearers!” is -shouted down the valley. Shortly after, the wounded are -carried away to the hospital, and this scene has now become -a painfully familiar one.</p> - -<p>It is very cold to-day, and the gale still continues, hampering -the Navy’s work of landing stores.</p> - -<p>The afternoon was quiet. A great gale sprang up at -dark and blew hard all night. It is now very cold. One -consolation, flies are dying off.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 15th.</i></h3> - -<p>To-day has been cold and cloudy, with a strong wind. -Artillery duels all day, with ships joining in. We were -shelled this afternoon, but fortunately to-day had no -5·9 shrapnel. Cox and Gennison came to tea, and Walker<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span> -and myself walked back with them. Called in at Brigade -H.Q. Hear that now we are at war with Bulgaria.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 16th.</i></h3> - -<p>At five this morning (dawn) the Turks began a general -bombardment, chiefly on our right (Chocolate Hill) and at -Anzac, but the subsequent attack on their part seemed -to die away quickly. No news as to results.</p> - -<p>At 11 a.m. an enemy aeroplane sails over. Our two -anti-aircraft guns on shore start firing, and make such good -practice that the machine quickly gets out of range and -sails over towards Anzac, disappearing suddenly into the -clouds. Many thought that she had been brought down, -and a great cheer goes up and clapping of hands. Shortly -after, however, she is seen coming back over the bay once -more, flying low. H.M.S. <i>Glory</i> and <i>Canopus</i> fire with -their anti-aircraft guns, but wide of the mark. She turns -and sails up inland once more, perilously close to our shore -anti-aircraft guns, which make excellent practice. One shell -bursts dangerously near the machine, whereupon she dives, -swings to the right, and climbing again, sails over Chocolate -Hill. When over our trenches heavy rifle and machine -gun fire break out at her, but she sails calmly on over -Sari Bair to her base behind in safety. Result, honours -with the enemy pilot, a damned cool customer, but a very -nasty trip for him. It lasts under ten minutes, so that -he has not much time for observing, but no doubt time -enough for his purpose. The rest of the day we have the -usual artillery duels, rather heavier than usual, and at -3.20 p.m., and again at five, we have our usual shelling -by our old friend “Whistling Rufus.”</p> - - -<h3><i>October 17th.</i></h3> - -<p>At nine this morning the Turks very heavily bombarded -our reserve lines and our batteries on our left. They -were very prodigal of ammunition, showing that their -supply had been replenished, probably from Bulgaria. -They put in some very large stuff, 9-inch at least, and at -very long range. Our batteries and ships were active in -reply. It is cold and windy and raining.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span></p> - -<p>Went up to Brigade with Way, and later to 86th, where -the Padre was holding Sunday service. Beach shelled a -little while we were away.</p> - -<p>To-morrow is the great Mohammedan feast-day, and -we expect a general attack on the part of the Turks.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 18th.</i></h3> - -<p>Rainy morning. Bit of shelling in morning and early -afternoon, but not very damaging shells.</p> - -<p>At four they started dropping large shells, about 11-inch, -which whistled over with a tremendous shriek and burst -with a thunderous crack. They must have come a long -way, as we could not hear the report of the gun. They -were bursting too near for our liking, and we were glad -when they stopped. Some say they came from the <i>Goeben</i>. -They finished up their bout with 5·9 shrapnel. So far -no attack by the Turks.</p> - -<p>News that Sir Ian Hamilton is going and that General -Munro is taking his place reaches us.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 19th.</i></h3> - -<p>A quiet morning, but at four we were shelled as usual. -Not much damage.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 20th, 2 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Quiet so far to-day, except for a bit of shelling this -morning. News reaches us that the 10th Division, who -were here in August, are at Salonika, whether interned -or not we do not know. Turkish festival still on, and I -believe it ends to-morrow. They make a row in their -trenches at odd times of the day by the shouting of -“Allah” and the ringing of bells. Sometimes our men, -for a joke, throw jam-tins full of jam into the Turkish -trenches. This happening to-day, the Turks thought -that we were throwing bombs, instead of four harmless -tins of jam, and they promptly threw back two bombs. -Whereupon we have to throw six bombs back. This -quietened them. Later, however, they threw the four -jam-tins back—empty—having eaten their contents.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>October 21st.</i></h3> - -<p>A very heavy gale blowing all day from the north-west. -Sky heavy with rain, but wind too high to allow rain to -fall. Heavy shelling all morning for three hours without -stopping, and again in afternoon. None near our patch. -We get the shrapnel, however, from “Whistling Rufus,” -which is more comprehensive.</p> - -<p>Enemy aeroplane, in spite of gale, is over this morning. -Anti-aircraft guns fire—and miss!</p> - - -<h3><i>October 22nd.</i></h3> - -<p>A great gale blew all night, and is still blowing. Cold -and cloudy. Artillery duels going on as usual. Not -much shelling on this beach. At four, we have three of -the 5·9 shrapnel over our little corner. One could not -hear them coming, because of the gale.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 23rd.</i></h3> - -<p>Beaches shelled a bit this morning. Gale continues all -day, and it is very cold. Soon after four we are shrapnelled -once more, having about ten large ones over in a period -of half an hour, causing casualties. The gale prevents -anybody hearing them coming. Go up to Brigade H.Q., -and it is hard work walking against the wind. Country -looking bleak and miserable. Come back on motor-ambulance. -At night I am up at the C.R.E. nullah forming -a forward dump of reserve rations. We have to work -in a cold, driving rain.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 24th.</i></h3> - -<p>Gale still continues. Flights of birds, which had collected -in great numbers some few days ago, now seem all to have -left. Has been raining all morning. Very little shelling -from Turks.</p> - -<p>Go up to Brigade H.Q. and have tea. Gale dies down -towards evening. Beautiful colouring of sky over the -sea. A background of grey rain clouds, golden-buff coloured -strips of sky, grey sea, against which are silhouetted sepia-coloured -trees and gorse-bushes. Imbros, now grey as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> -the sea, is always in the picture—the eternal picture in -which is painted our monotonous life on Gallipoli. We -are waiting, waiting, with no news, and some of us are -saying with no hope. These latter, however, suffer from -“tummy” troubles.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 25th.</i></h3> - -<p>Six months ago to-day I landed at Helles—it seems -like six years. To-day we are still an hour’s walk from -the sea to the front trenches, at all three landings. This -morning is a cool, beautiful summer morning. Flies seem -to come again from somewhere, but not so bad as before, -yet sufficient to be called a pest in England. Usual -artillery duels all day, and we are shrapnelled again in the -afternoon. At 6 p.m. go up to C.R.E. dump about the -reserve rations we are putting there. Cloudy evening.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 26th.</i></h3> - -<p>A cool, fine morning, rather cloudy. Birds again flying -in large coveys overhead—wild geese and crane, etc.; -men fire at them, though it is strictly against orders. Hardly -any artillery duels in morning. Go up to C.R.E. dump -with Major Fraser, and later, leaving him, go on to Brigade -and have tea. Adjutant of Worcesters, who was wounded -in the landing in April, and who has been back in England, -was there. We who have been out here all the time look -upon those who have been back in England with great -interest.</p> - -<p>After tea, Morris, the Machine Gun Officer, takes me -out to see his machine gun emplacements on Gun Hill, -which is a little hill lying some two hundred yards behind -our front-line trenches, the ground on its left rising steeply -to the high ridge overlooking the sea, and on its right -sloping gently down to the low land.</p> - -<p>We pass the Worcester Regiment in the reserve trenches -dug in an open space on the left of Brigade H.Q. looking -inshore; then we pass down a communication trench, -coming out into an open space behind a small mound -called Gibraltar, round which we pass down a slope leading -to a rocky ravine filled with large boulders, a few trees,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> -and patches of thick gorse-bush. There the Hampshire -Regiment are dug in.</p> - -<p>To the left of the ravine are a few graves, and now and -again a bullet kicks up the dust close by them. Smith, -the Hampshire Quartermaster, jokingly informs me of a -certain way of getting a cushy Blighty wound. If I want -one, all I have to do is to stand by these graves after dark, -and wait. In under two hours, most probably in five -minutes of waiting, I shall get one in the leg. The bullets -come from a Turkish trench high up on the cliff-side on -our left front. To the right of the ravine one is safe, protected -by a rise in the ground. On the left of the ravine -one is in constant danger of a smack from a bullet, and -more so at night.</p> - -<p>We continue our way, passing down another trench, -and shortly after come out into the open in a lovely glade -of grass and trees situated in dead ground, protected by -a little hill in front called Gun Hill. On its slopes we once -more enter a trench, which encircles the hill, very similar -to the ramparts of an ancient castle. It is a little fortress -on its own, standing aloof from the system of trenches -situated behind our front line, but in front of our support -line, yet blending in with the uneven lie of the land, thereby -not making a conspicuous target. At intervals are machine -gun emplacements, with machine guns in position, pointing -through apertures in the sand-bagged breastwork. At the -first that we come to we find the sentry not looking out. -I shall never forget the frightened look on his face as it -meets Morris’s suddenly appearing around the corner of -the sand-bagged wall a few inches from him. He gets -a stiff “strafing.” We continue our way, and at the next -emplacement come upon a sentry who presents a unique -object. For his head is covered by a sand-bag, through -which are holes made for his eyes and mouth. To this -headgear are fixed sprigs of gorse-bush, and as he stands -stock-still, with his head and shoulders filling the gap in -the breastwork, it must be impossible for an enemy observer -to detect his presence from the background of gorse and -trees. Yet if he is detected a sniper has him for a dead -certainty. It is so far safe for such sentries, however,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span> -for up to now no casualties have occurred amongst them -from a sniper’s rifle.</p> - -<p>Morris asks, “Is everything O.K.?” and the sentry, -without looking round, replies, “All’s well, sir.”</p> - -<p>I stand beside the sentry and look at the view in front -of me—a beautiful view of sloping hills up to the heights -of the cliffs which overlook the sea; and on their slopes -I see distinctly the irregular light-brown lines of thrown-up -earth, denoting the Turks’ front-line trenches and ours, -running opposite each other to the summit of the cliffs, -about three hundred yards apart.</p> - -<p>We are six hundred yards from the enemy line, and -can be certain victims for a Turkish sniper should he be -aware of our presence.</p> - -<p>From this position at night sometimes the Turk receives -the contents of belt after belt of machine gun ammunition -poured on to his second and third line and communication -trenches by indirect fire, ranged by day, causing him great -inconvenience and to wonder from where the bullets come.</p> - -<p>Our front line is always warned when any such stunt -is on, so that they may not arrange for their working parties -or patrols to be out in front. Looking at the country in -front of me, I can see that here on these rugged slopes the -Turk would have but short shrift if he attacked us—as -of course would we if we attacked. Result, deadlock, -like two cats spitting and sparring at each other. Morris -says he is always pleased to show people round his pet -hobby. I was immensely interested, and Morris might -have been showing me round a farm.</p> - -<p>We come back in the gloaming, Morris now and again -stopping to order paper and litter to be picked up, for -General de Lisle is around here frequently, and has the eye -of a hawk.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 27th.</i></h3> - -<p>A fine morning, with a very warm and strong wind, almost -a gale, blowing from the sea. Smith, of Hampshires, pays -us a visit, and as we sit in our dugout we hear “Whistling -Rufus” coming over from Sari Bair. One corner of the -roof over our dugout is only of tarpaulin, for corrugated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> -iron is scarce. Rumour says that a ship which set out -from England loaded with corrugated iron has been torpedoed -and sunk. An officer, newly arrived, who is sitting -with us, appears to rather scorn my advice to move from -where he is sitting under the tarpaulin, which is of no -protection to him from shrapnel bullets, when, “Crash” from -“Whistling Rufus” is heard overhead, and the sound of -bullets spattering on our roof follows immediately after, -just as if an unseen hand with a bowl of pebbles had taken -a handful and thrown them with violence down on to our -abode. A shirt hanging outside on a line to dry receives -two bullets through its tail, causing large rents. The -new officer immediately gets up from where he is sitting -and comes round to our side of the table, where we sit under -a roof of corrugated iron with a layer of sand-bags on top, -safe from everything but a direct hit.</p> - -<p>This 5·9 shrapnel is followed by others, and in the distance -we hear the roar of Turkish artillery and bursting shrapnel. -“Whistling Rufus” ceases worrying us after a while, and -we go up to behind our dugout and look inland at the -Turkish shelling. All along our line and behind, Turkish -shrapnel is bursting thickly, being more concentrated over -Chocolate Hill and on Hill 10, which is situated on the left -of the Salt Lake and half a mile from “B” Beach.</p> - -<p>About half an hour after, we hear rifle fire, which dies -down quickly, and all is quiet. What it was all about I -do not know. Probably the end of the Turkish festival, -or probably Enver Pasha has paid a visit, and, sitting on -top of Sari Bair, has asked for a show to be demonstrated -to him. I must say such a show, viewed from the top of -Sari Bair, must appear a wonderful sight.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 28th.</i></h3> - -<p>A hot, sultry day, and the flies a pest. A very quiet -morning. No news. Hardly any shelling on the part of -the Turk, but our artillery and ships’ guns fairly active. -I go up to Brigade H.Q. to tea, and after, on the way back, -call in at the 88th Field Ambulance, situated in a tent -encampment on a plateau lying between Karakol Dagh -and the Turkish positions. Here the situation is most<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span> -interesting. The white tents and marquees are in full view -of the Turks, and not a shot comes near, for John Turk -plays the game. It is almost like living in a garden city, -with the open country all round, and the feeling one gets -is very odd—so near to war and yet so far! Patients -rest quite at their ease in their walls of canvas, while over -their heads, singing their dread song, the Turkish shells -pass on their way to the beaches.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 29th.</i></h3> - -<p>A hot day, and flies very trying. Turks busy with -artillery at Chocolate Hill and Anzac. Our artillery -busily replying. Nothing our way. Heard firing off coast -of Bulgaria last night. Our artillery have been very active -all day, and are still firing, although it is dark. We have -now several new batteries ashore, and for the past few days -the Turk has been very quiet. We had only two shells -over our way to-day. Our artillery seems to be getting -well on top. Munro has arrived, all good luck to him. -Now perhaps we shall get a move on. We feel now, either -move on or off. But Heaven defend us from the inaction -and waste of time of the last six months! Stewart has -gone off, suffering very badly with dysentery. He was -stubborn about it, and would not see the doctor, until at -last he had to be carried off on a stretcher. I shall miss -him very much, as he was good company.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 30th.</i></h3> - -<p>A hot summer day, and flies a plague. The Division -has sustained a sad loss to-day. Algy Wood, of the Essex, -has gone West. He had been through everything since -the landing, and at noon to-day was shot in the throat -while in the support trench near his “orderly room.” He -became a friend of mine, as he became a friend of all he met, -and I have often referred to him in my Diary. He just -had time to say to his sergeant-major, who went to him, -“I’m finished, sergeant-major,” and then died. A name -that will never be forgotten by the survivors of the 29th -Division. Nearly all the best have gone now. Lord -Howard de Walden comes into our dugout in the evening<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> -and has a chat; he is our D.A.A. and Q.M.G., and very -popular. Munro is ashore to-day with Staff for a pow-wow -at IX Corps H.Q. No news from Salonica.</p> - - -<h3><i>October 31st.</i></h3> - -<p class="b2">Another summer day. Hardly any shelling on our -part, and absolutely none on the part of the Turk. And -so ends October, a monotonous, dreary month. Phew! -how many more such months?</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="NOVEMBER">NOVEMBER</h2> - - -<h3><i>November 1st.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">Last</span> night was very rough, and several lighters were -wrecked on the beach. We also lost a destroyer, which -ran on the rocks just off West Beach. No loss of life.</p> - -<p>A cool summer day again, and no shelling from the -Turks this morning. Flies not quite so bad, but still a -plague. They have become persistent, fat, sleepy ones -now. No shelling from the Turks at all, and our artillery -hardly fire a shot.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 2nd.</i></h3> - -<p>A few shells only this morning. A beautiful summer -day, but flies badly worrying. A battery has been put -on the road just by the rise before 80th Brigade H.Q. -Destroyer which ran on the rocks yesterday still in the -same position.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 3rd.</i></h3> - -<p>After breakfast, having arranged for a visit round the -trenches with Panton, the D.A.D.M.S., I go up to D.H.Q. -at the top of our gully. We start off, accompanied by -Lord Howard de Walden, pass through the 88th Field -Ambulance camp, dip down on to the beach road, and -after a short way along bear to the right on to Gibraltar -road. Instead of walking up along the Gibraltar road, -as has been the practice of most of us up to now, we bear -to the right through the low wooded country between -Gibraltar road and Hill 10. We cross the newly made -line of trenches, with barbed wire thickly laid in front, -passing a bombing school on our left. Turkish bullets -fired at a high elevation just reach this point, dropping<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span> -with spent velocity. As we walk through the almond-trees -just beyond, the guns of the two battleships bang -out suddenly. We hear the great shells shrieking over -our heads, and see them burst with violence over Burnt -Hill on our right front. Passing the almond-trees, we make -a detour to the left, arriving in the open space which leads -to 86th Brigade H.Q. Panton stops here at an advanced -dressing station, and while we wait for him a few bullets -sing overhead. But there is never very much rifle fire in -the daytime. We then dip down into “C.C.” communication -trench, and follow its windings to the line. We pass over -one or two bridges crossing large drains that have been -dug to drain the trenches when the wet weather comes. -We are warned by the formation of the irregular hills, -nullahs, and ravines, and the great boulders of stone standing -out of the ground, that at some time during the year rain -falls in great quantities. What will our trenches be like -on the low ground when that time does come? Salt Lake -on our left gradually sinking under water answers that -question. We see shrapnel bursting low over that part -of the line we are making for, and I have a desire to turn -my coat-collar up. I always do when I am near shells. -Why, I don’t know. We arrive at the support trench, in -which are the Munsters and Dublin Fusiliers. I see a few -men clustered together in the trench at a small entrance -leading to a dugout. One comes out from the dugout, -and says, “By Jasus! the poor lad’s gone.” A man -had been hit by shrapnel, and had just died, after about -twenty minutes. We continue on, and on arrival at the -Essex Regiment I inquire where Algy Wood had been hit. -I am taken up a short trench which turns sharply to the -left, coming to an abrupt end at a dugout—his dugout. -I inquire how it happened, and am told that he was leaning -up against the back of the trench immediately outside -his dugout, with his pipe in his mouth, looking at an -aeroplane which was hovering over our line. Suddenly a -bullet strikes him in the throat; he takes his pipe out of -his mouth, makes a gesture of extreme annoyance with -his arm, and mutters the words “Damn it!” Then he -sinks back in the arms of his sergeant-major, who is standing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> -near him, and saying, “I am finished, sergeant-major,” -quietly goes West.</p> - -<p>Struck by a chance bullet in a comparatively safe place! -Cruel, cruel luck! At least Algy Wood, one of the most -gallant officers of that pick of Divisions—the 29th—should -have been spared. However, he had the satisfaction of -putting up his hard-earned D.S.O. ribbon a week or so -ago. We continue our way along trenches which, instead -of running more or less in regular lines, zigzag in and out -in sharp turns and corners, which face the high hills on -our left, each corner protected by strong sand-bagged breastworks. -The reason for this is that these breastworks, -placed at short intervals in that part of the line where we -are, screen us from view of the enemy in his trenches high -up on the ridge of hills which overlook the sea on our left. -Of course, we in our trenches up there also can overlook -the Turks in the trenches running through the low country -in their territory, which trenches also are punctuated at -frequent short intervals by breastworks. In consequence -of the danger of being seen by Turks on the hill, our -trenches on the low land are very narrow, and Lord -Howard de Walden causes great amusement to some -Tommies sitting on the fire-step by the remark, “These -trenches were not built for a man with an extra large -tummy.”</p> - -<p>We follow Panton, who is on his round of inspection of -sumps, cesspits, cookhouses, and the general sanitation -of the trenches. Myriads of flies, which precede us on our -way; when we halt, they all promptly settle in black -patches on the sand-bags and sides of trenches. When -we continue our tour, they, rising immediately with a loud -buzzing, lead the way for us.</p> - -<p>An inspection of the cookhouse of the Newfoundland -Regiment is made. It is built in a small sunken ravine -at the back of the support line. Panton and Frew, their -M.O., go to the end of the ravine. I wait at the end near -entrance to the trench. A Newfoundlander says to me, -“Excuse me, sir, but in the place in which you are -standing our cook was killed yesterday by a sniper -from the hill.” I am rude enough to forget to thank<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> -the man. I simply turn round on my heel, practically -diving into the trench. But I shouted thanks to him -as we left, five minutes after. After a short walk along -the front line—the usual front line, with men at short -intervals on the keen lookout through periscopes—we -return by “D” communication trench, half an hour’s -walk. We pass Gibraltar Hill, and so over the gorse to -Gibraltar road, arriving at D.H.Q. on the hill, where I -am given a topping lunch.</p> - -<p>It is a beautiful summer day, and the Turks are sending -over sporting shots at the shipping. The battleships answer, -so the enemy turn their guns on to them instead, and -actually record two hits on the <i>Prince George</i>, which then -manœuvres for a fresh position. Then they get on to the -supply ships again, which have to clear outside the boom, -further away from the end of the promontory. Suddenly -a good shot at long range gets a supply ship, which is -loaded with hay, and quickly sets it on fire. Our battleships -get very angry at this, but it is some time before -they can silence the Turkish batteries. At sunset the -hay supply ship is still smoking, but the fire is well under -control. A new officer arrives, named Hunt, a good fellow -from Tipperary. Good omen, for though we are a long, -long way from Tipperary, one from that immortal place -has come to join us.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 4th.</i></h3> - -<p>The ship that was set on fire yesterday lost practically -all the hay in the forward hold. Consequently, for some -time our poor little Indian mules will be on half rations. -Destroyer has now broken her back and is a total wreck, -waves breaking over her. Rain is beginning now. We -had a few showers this morning. A little shelling in the -morning, but the afternoon was quiet. Go up to Brigade -H.Q. with the new Transport Officer, Hunt. Find conference -on, so McLaughlin and Morris entertain us to tea. -Have to make detour through flat wooded country, getting -to and from H.Q., on account of this beastly new battery. -Very quiet this afternoon; no shelling, and hardly any -rifle fire. Hunt remarked, coming back, that it was a nice<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> -country walk, and reminded him of his homestead in -Tipperary. He has been at Blackheath for the last six -months at Headquarters at the Ranger’s Lodge, and left -there only three weeks ago, so I like getting him to -talk about Blackheath, which I knew so well. I have -been on this place so long now, that a new-comer has -only to mention about riding on a tramcar or going into -a cakeshop, when I am held thrilled with interest and -pleasure.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 5th.</i></h3> - -<p>A beautiful, cool summer day. Shelled at ten this -morning for quite an hour. The destroyer has now completely -broken her back, and her stern has disappeared. -The Turks discovered the mishap, but they could not see -that she is a wreck, as she is “bows on” to the Turkish -position. Thinking, therefore, that the destroyer was still -intact, though stuck on the ground, they attempted to -finish her off, and for three hours shelled her. They only -recorded two hits, however, and it was satisfactory to see -old Turk wasting his ammunition. To-day another old -friend has gone. He is Way, the 86th Supply Officer, -who has been here since April 25th without ever going -sick. He felt rather dicky two days ago, and was told to -stay in his dugout, and to-day I find he has developed -diphtheria badly. He tries not to go, but a doctor soon -settles that. I shall now feel more lonely than ever, for -we were great pals, and our walks to our respective H.Q. -were among the few pleasures that I could look forward -to. When casualties occurred at his dump he was always -there to attend to the wounded, and as S.O. the 86th -Brigade will miss him. I wonder how many of the old -29th are left. Well, Way is for Blighty, and good luck -to him. But diphtheria is a nasty illness, and I hope he -pulls through.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 6th.</i></h3> - -<p>Walker has gone off permanently to hospital with jaundice, -and Hunt and myself are left on our own.</p> - -<p>Beautiful summer day, to-day. Turk very quiet and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span> -hardly any shelling. <i>Swiftsure</i> back, and the <i>Canopus</i> -and <i>Prince George</i> busy shelling Turkish positions this -afternoon.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 7th.</i></h3> - -<p>Another beautiful summer day. Turks shelled our -valley at ten and again at three. No damage, though -some were uncomfortably close to us. Our ships and shore -batteries fairly busy. Monitors busy at night.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 8th.</i></h3> - -<p>A cool, lovely day. Flies are dying rapidly—the best -news to record for a long time. Two new A.S.C. officers -arrive to join us, named Matthews and Elphinstone. Very -few shells this morning, but they come very near our -dugout this time. Cox, of the Essex, comes in for a chat, -the only original officer now left of that regiment. I walk -back with him to Brigade H.Q., and Matthews comes with -me. Walking across the flat space just leading to the -86th Brigade H.Q., I point out to Matthews the lines of -light-brown earth running up the slopes of the hill on our -left front, and he hardly believes me when I tell him one -line is Turkish. Like all who newly arrive, he is surprised -at the short walk from the beach to the line. Our batteries -are dusting the Turkish line with shrapnel, and their -batteries are retaliating. They make very good shooting -on both sides, as, of course, they have all ranges registered -to a nicety. We call at both Brigades, and have tea at -each. Coming away, Matthews tells me that he is of a -retiring disposition, and that he does not like being thrown -suddenly into new society, and that two tea-parties is -more than his nerves can stand, more especially when a -General is present at each.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 9th.</i></h3> - -<p>Usual visit to Brigade H.Q. with Hunt, and after, inspect -the forward reserve rations at C.R.E. dump. Men busy -digging trenches back near beaches now. Another beautiful -cool summer day, cold at night. Turks busy shelling -batteries and shrapnelling trenches.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span></p> - -<p>There is only one possible game for the Turk to play, -and he is playing it well. That is to say, he must keep us -at bay at all costs. Therein lies his only chance, for once -we can get across the Peninsula to Maidos, his game is -up, for we cut his main line of communications, so he -shells us continually to keep us occupied. The shelling -is so effective that elaborate dugouts have to be built. -These are made as strong as possible, the inner walls being -strengthened with sand-bags, the roof formed with strong -cross-beams, on which rest, first, iron sheets or wire netting, -then two layers of sand-bags, then soil. These dugouts -are perfectly secure against shrapnel or high explosive -splinters, but, of course, could not stand against a direct -hit. But that would not worry the occupants much, as -it would be all over in a few minutes. Inside such houses -we have lounges cut out of the earth and covered with -sacks. Our furniture is rough-and-ready, and made on -the spot. It is marvellous what can be done with any -ordinary wooden box, if you know how to deal with it. -Out of our wooden boxes chairs and tables appear like -magic—chairs with arms and adjustable backs; strong -tables, and various other bits of furniture. Some of them -are really quite good, and show clearly the ingenuity of -their makers. We also have candlesticks, recesses for -books, and toilet articles, all from the same source. Fireplaces -are made out of home-made bricks—for there is a -good deal of clay on the Peninsula. They are good fireplaces -too, complete with mantelpiece, bars, and hob. So -we sit round of an evening reading periodicals a month -old with the same zest and interest as we read the latest -editions at home.</p> - -<p>By the papers, England sounds depressing.</p> - -<p>So we would rather be here. We do know <i>the truth of -Gallipoli</i> here. Man likes to know what he is up against. -Seven Divisions at the start would have fixed this job, -no ships would have been lost, and our little friend Bulgaria -would have thought twice of coming in against us. All -night outside we hear the crack-crack-crack of the -rifles in the trenches. Worcesters did a good bit of work -the other night, capturing a sniper’s post three hundred<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span> -yards in front. Only two casualties over that little job; -they expected more. Turks in front of the 29th have -fairly “got the wind up.” We bomb and shell their -nerves away.</p> - -<p>General Cayley says he is quite happy and does not want -to go to Salonica, as he is looking forward to sitting -round his fire of a winter’s night. General Percival says -bother General Cayley’s fireplace; he wants to go to -Salonica and get a move on. And so they live their -lives, these men—lives full of danger, yet joking about -their fireplaces.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 10th.</i></h3> - -<p>Another fairly quiet day. Ships firing a bit against -Turkish batteries, which are sending back shrapnel. Take -up Elphinstone to Brigade and have tea at the 86th. Have -some excellent rock-cakes, made by their cook. General -Cayley calls in. We walk round with him to the 88th. -I get awfully fed up at times, but every time I see General -Cayley he gives me a spurt for a few days. I had jaundice -badly about two weeks ago, and they were going to send -me off, and that meant England. I got a spurt, and soon -felt fit again, and have never felt so well in all my life. -Morris, Machine Gun Officer of the 88th, seriously ill with -rheumatism, but he is trying to hang on. Destroyers -and Monitors make a practice of shelling the Pimple from -the Gulf of Saros now. Amusing watching destroyers. -They fire, then emit a cloud of smoke, sail round behind -it, then fire again, and so on. Old Turk can’t hit back. -Shelling Pimple much in fashion just now. Poor old -Turk! fancy trying to get to sleep on the Pimple with -big guns throwing great shrieking shells at him all -night.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 11th.</i></h3> - -<p>Lovely summer day. Are moving camp to IX Corps -Gully. Busy arranging the necessary digging. Turks very -busy with shrapnel this morning around Chocolate Hill -and to the left. Battleships very angry and fire back, -making a fearful noise. Old Turk sticks at it, though.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span> -General de Lisle, riding with A.D.C. and orderly, nearly -gets hit. He takes too much risk and seems to have no -nerves.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 12th.</i></h3> - -<p>Getting rather cold now. Fleet firing heavily to-day, -and Turks, as usual, busy with shrapnel. “C” Beach -badly shelled, and 13th Division Supply depot gets it badly; -several casualties. A year ago to-day I received my commission -and joined the 13th Division. If I had not joined -the 29th Division I might have been on the “C” Beach -to-day with the 13th Division. Go up to Brigade with -Elphinstone and see new Staff Captain—Armstrong. -Hadow is now with the 11th Division, and I am sorry -he has gone. Stay till dusk. Turkish snipers always -creep out at dusk. Bullets freely coming when we take -our leave. Over the gorse outside the Brigade H.Q. I -say to Elphinstone, “At this point at night I always -walk fast,” and he, this being his first experience, says, -“I am with you.” Out of range we light our pipes, then -a comfortable walk back in the moonlight. Finish up -work at the depot. Dinner and a smoke, and to Hell -with the Kaiser!</p> - - -<h3><i>November 13th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is getting very windy and cold, but day quite fine. -Flies still worrying, but not nearly so badly as a few weeks -back. No shelling from Turk. Ships firing on Turkish -batteries, which are badly shrapnelling Chocolate Hill. -Kitchener in neighbourhood. Matthews leaves to be -Adjutant of train at Helles, and Hunt and I go out in his -pinnace to see him off. Sea a bit choppy, and I, sitting -on the top of the engine-room, nearly fall through the -skylight into the engines. Horne arrives to take his -place. Has seen Kitchener at Mudros with a numerous -Staff. Staff-Captain 86th Brigade comes to tea. Show -him over our new camp for winter, which is in course of -preparation. It is going to be “some” camp. It breaks -the monotony, making this camp. Guests for dinner. -Beautiful moonlight night and very quiet.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>November 14th.</i></h3> - -<p>A bit of a gale blowing. Another quiet day, absolutely -no shelling. Kitchener arrives here at three o’clock with -Staff. Was up Brigade with Horne at the time, and so -missed the show; but my sergeant told me about it. He -landed at little West Beach, walked through the Main -Supply depot, and then past our depot, up IX Corps Gully -to the top of the hill, and had a good look round the -positions. He was only here about two hours. Tommies -came running up and stood in groups at attention, while -their C.O.’s and officers saluted, and he passed along -saluting gravely right and left, now and again stopping -to look at some dugouts. There is now general satisfaction -that Kitchener has been and seen for himself what things -are really like here. No shelling of the beaches while he -was on shore, but the low lands were being shrapnelled.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 15th.</i></h3> - -<p>Quiet morning. In the afternoon the Turks put a dozen -of the best over the beach, but did no harm. Bit of a -battle on Chocolate Hill this afternoon at five, and rifle -fire, and a great deal of shrapnel, for half an hour. Our -battleships firing heavily and making a deafening din. -Heavy thunderstorms at eight, with vivid forked lightning -and rain. I suppose this is a foretaste of what is to come.</p> - -<p>The safety of the beaches has now greatly improved. -West Beach and the beach adjacent are now joined by a -deep cutting. A deep trench, starting at the Main Supply -depot, runs down to West Beach, in which is laid a tramway -used for carrying supplies from the piers to the depot. -This is under cover, entirely hidden from the enemy by -day. The earth taken from this cutting or deep trench -has been thrown up in great mounds at the back of the -two beaches, rendering them safe from high explosive -shells, though, of course, not from shrapnel. But “Whistling -Rufus” has not worried us since the late days of -October, devoting his attention to the unfortunately -situated “C” Beach on the other side of Lala Baba. The -road leading up on the higher ground to our D.H.Q. is -now sunk and the dug out earth, thrown up on the side<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span> -facing the enemy, hides all transport by day entirely from -his view. Since this has been done this road has been -almost entirely free from shrapnel.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 16th.</i></h3> - -<p>Men are hard at work digging our new camp in IX -Corps Gully. We move there, when IX Corps H.Q. -move to the end of the promontory. IX Corps new -Headquarters should be entirely winterproof, even during -the severest weather. They are also practically invulnerable, -by reason of their position and the vast -amount of labour that has been expended upon them. -I myself saw sheds in sections being put bodily into the -rock excavated to receive them. There were communication -trenches cut in the living rock connecting dugout -with dugout. Also, elaborate excavations in the rock -formed shell-proof living quarters, and, when necessary, -unlimited wood, iron, and sand-bags have been lavishly -used. The whole place is a perfect engineering achievement—the -most wonderful nest of safety that the mind -of man could conceive. How different are the conditions -at Lala Baba, but three miles away, where the wretched -hovels of the troops cluster as thickly as the cells in a -honeycomb. No coping of iron or beams there. A man -is lucky if he has as much as a blanket or a waterproof -sheet to stretch over his miserable hole in the ground—not -enough shelter to keep out the raindrops, let alone -shrapnel.</p> - -<p>The system on which our camp is being modelled is the -same as for all the other beach camps here. An effort -is being made to house the men through the rigours of -the winter storms, which no doubt will soon be upon -us. Taking advantage of the sloping ground in the fold -of the gully on the promontory, which increases in height -as it extends inland towards the high land, deep trenches -are dug parallel to the lines of our trenches inshore. They -are 7 feet wide, with parapets and parados 8 feet and -6½ feet high respectively. They should be roofed in by -corrugated iron; some only of them are, however. Corrugated -iron is still a luxury here. Filled sand-bags are then<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> -laid on the top, which should render them shrapnel-proof. -As they generally run at right angles to the line of Turkish -artillery fire, a high explosive shell would explode on the -mound of earth thrown up in front of the parapet, and -not in the roof.</p> - -<p>Each trench is dug on lower ground than the one in -front. The whole system is being organized by an able -technical engineer officer, who is hard at work from morning -to night. His camp is taken as a model. Although in -view of the enemy, its safety against casual shelling, such -as we are daily subjected to, has been demonstrated several -times. Against a heavy bombardment, of course, no -trenches are proof. Shrapnel bullets have spattered harmlessly -on his sand-bagged roofs. High explosive shells -bursting full in the middle of his camp have been caught -by the mound of earth in front of the trench. Should the -shell miss one line of trenches, it is caught by the mound -of earth in front of the other line behind. A direct hit -on the roof, except from a howitzer, is almost impossible.</p> - -<p>Drains are cut about and around the trenches to catch -the water of the forthcoming heavy rains, and advantage -is taken of the formation of the gullies to make one main -drain into which smaller drains can run. One has only -to look at the great boulders of stone standing half in and -half out of the earth all over the high ground of the Peninsula, -and at the large, medium, and small gullies, which -are of all kinds of intricate geographical formations, to -realize that at some time of the year not only a series of -ordinary rainfalls, but raging deluges of water, fall in all-powerful -torrents, mercilessly driving all before them, even -great boulders of stone. No trenches, no matter how well -constructed, can withstand heavy driving floods. Let the -engineers first study the formation of the land, pause -and reason a little, and they will see that all this labour -will be lost, and their trenches full to the brim at the first -heavy downfall. In dry weather, though, the system is -excellent, and the men inside are very comfortable.</p> - -<p>The trenches are entered by steps from the road or path -at either end, or from the terrace behind between each -trench. At night the men sleep in one row side by side,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span> -their kits hung on the earth wall behind them. Quarters -for N.C.O.’s are partitioned off by timber and sacking. -By day their blankets are rolled up neatly, and the whole -makes a roomy apartment. A cookhouse constructed on -the same principle is built at the end of a series of -trenches. Officers’ dugouts are built near by, dug in -the slope or behind protecting boulders. The whole, -neat, orderly, and compact, affords remarkably good -cover from shrapnel and high explosives—but for protection -against weather, never. For protection against -weather I prefer the de Lisle system of terraces, built -on a steep slope in tiers, the whole practically a flight -of very large steps. But, of course, a steep slope is -necessary. The men’s quarters are simply built on each -terrace; the back wall is cut out of earth, the roof of -corrugated iron, supported by timbers and made shrapnel-proof, -and the sides are built up of loose stones, tarpaulins, -and timber. The hill on which such a system -is built affords the necessary protection against shell fire. -It is, of course, weather-proof, as it is simple to drain.</p> - -<p>“C” Beach and Lala Baba across the bay get very -badly shelled this afternoon, and in consequence the -battleships are hard at work endeavouring to silence the -Turkish batteries. Sounds of very heavy firing are heard -from Helles, probably Monitors in action.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 17th.</i></h3> - -<p>Very little shelling, hardly any our way. To-day is -very stormy, and as the time goes on the wind develops -into a great gale. All landing of stores has to cease. Great -white waves dash up against our piers, and after it is over -there will be much work for the Australian Bridging Section. -In the evening our flimsy summer quarters are cold and -draughty. The oil-drum fire won’t burn. So we turn -in early, Elphinstone and Horne going to their dugout -up the rise to our left. Suddenly, just as we are getting -into bed, the tarpaulin half of our roof blows adrift. Hunt -and I have a job to fasten it back in position once more. -The wind is shrieking outside. A short while after, Horne -and Elphinstone come back, asking for shelter, for their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> -bivouac has blown down altogether, and so we crowd them -in our shelter for the rest of the night.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 18th, 19th, and 20th.</i></h3> - -<p>The usual daily visits to Brigade H.Q. forward reserve -dumps and D.H.Q. I get exercise this way. Also to and -fro on the beach, paying calls on friends among the many -dugouts there. Some are excellent, especially those of -Naval L.O.’s and Camp Commandant, built in the side -of the high rocks. The Field Cashier has to be “stung” -by me now and again on behalf of my Staff Captain to -pay the men of Brigade H.Q. His dugout is not in -a very safe place.</p> - -<p>Once, outside the dugout, leaning against the wall of -sand-bags talking to an Australian officer, I heard a shell -coming clean for us. I had no time to get to cover. I -saw men several yards away dive for cover. I watched -the Australian. He did not duck, but I noticed that he -gripped his pipe tightly with his teeth. I leant hard against -the wall behind me, and the beastly thing passed low over -our heads and burst in the sea. I said to him, “I wanted -to duck, but as you didn’t, I didn’t,” and he replied, -“Same here, son.” Gale has been blowing hard the last -three days, the Navy having great difficulty in landing -stores, etc.; but to-night—the night of the 20th—the wind -is dying down. Hardly any shelling at all now, except -inland.</p> - -<p>Our flimsy bivouac very draughty and cold. It is hard -work keeping our accounts and doing our office work.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 22nd.</i></h3> - -<p>Gale blowing hard now and wind much colder. Hard -at work building our new camp. Hunt falls ill and has -to go to bed, but trying to stick it out. Turks very -quiet.</p> - -<p>We are woke up at twelve midnight by a dugout on fire, -and all turn out to get the fire under and prevent it -spreading in the strong wind to neighbouring dugouts. -We curse heartily but manage to put the fire out in -half an hour. No one is hurt.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>November 23rd.</i></h3> - -<p>Wind quieting down, thank goodness. We pull down -our “summer residence,” in which we had lived for close -on three months. In a short while not a sign of it is left, -and we are hard at work shifting the whole camp into our -new quarters in the late IX Corps Gully. Each regiment’s -Q.M.’s staff, and a few regimental transport details and -our A.S.C. Supply details move with us. Also the two -Brigade post-offices. Our camp is not properly finished, -but we are all glad to be in it, for it is much warmer at -night in our dugouts.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 24th.</i></h3> - -<p>The weather is now much more settled. It was making -us all very anxious, as landing stores was very difficult for -the Navy. Brigade H.Q. country walk again. But life -very monotonous. Battleships now and again pop off. -A little shelling from the Turk, but not half a dozen all -day. Hard at work on new camp.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 25th.</i></h3> - -<p>Hunt very seedy, so I send him to Field Ambulance. -At night hear a rumour that the evacuation of Suvla Bay -has been decided on. Go down on beach in the evening -to see about arrangements for getting off, but am led to -believe it is only baggage for a Division which is -leaving.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 26th.</i></h3> - -<p>Yes, I think evacuation has been definitely decided on, -so our little camp has been built for nothing. However, -it keeps us employed, for life is deadly dull. This, then, -is to be the end! After all these months of blood and -sweat, of feverish anticipation and dismal results; after -all the toil, the hardships, and sorrows, with the little graveyards -getting fuller and fuller every day as I have passed -them—all this is for nothing, and we are leaving. I am -glad, yet full of regrets—excited, too, at the prospect of -getting back to civilization once more. Alexandria and -all its delights will seem like Paradise; the cosy dinners<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span> -at the club, the shops, and the meeting with old friends -left behind. These are some of the emotions that I -experience at the thought of evacuation.</p> - -<p>The wind is getting up once more, and the sea becomes -stormy. The Field Ambulance receive orders to evacuate -all patients at once to casualty clearing stations. At -the clearing station they are hard at work evacuating -all cases on to the lighters for transmission to the hospital -ships.</p> - - -<h3><i>Afternoon.</i></h3> - -<p>The sea is very rough. A lighter full of sick and a few -wounded has been washed ashore. Two cases have been -drowned. All further evacuation has stopped.</p> - -<p>The battleships are heavily bombarding Turkish positions. -Over Imbros black clouds, heavy with rain, are sailing -towards us. We are in for a dirty night.</p> - -<p>We are in the middle of loading our A.T. carts when -heavy spots of rain drop, and looking up, we see the sky -getting blacker and blacker with storm clouds. Luckily, -issuing is nearly finished. The transport of many of the -battalions has moved off, when a flash of forked lightning -rushes from the sky to the sea, and almost instantly a -deafening crash of thunder bursts overhead. This flash -is followed by another and another, and then several in -different parts of the sky stab the black clouds at the same -moment. The rain gently begins to hiss, the hiss getting -louder and louder, developing into a noise like the sound -of loudly escaping steam, until, as if the clouds have all -burst together, water deluges the earth in a soaking torrent. -Black night soon falls upon us, changing at short intervals -momentarily into day as the forked flashes of lightning stab -the earth, sky, and sea. The beach men, bending double -under the downfall of water and the struggle against the -wind as they walk, appear in vivid detail and disappear -in the fraction of a second as the lightning plays overhead. -Soon a pouring torrent of water a foot deep is raging down -the gullies, turning the ravines, large and small, down the -slopes of the hill into rushing cascades, washing away -dugouts as if they were paper, and filling to the brim every<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> -crevice and hollow on the lower land. The new camps -of trenches into which men have rushed for shelter are -half filled with water, which, in less than an hour, overflows -the drains on either side that we had dug to prevent -such an event happening. All the weary weeks of Engineer -labour lost in a short time. I go back to our new dugout -and meet a sorry sight. Our cookhouse, wherein our dinner -was being prepared, washed off the face of the earth. The -roof and the back part of the messroom had fallen in, -covering furniture with mud and debris, and flooding the -floor with water 6 inches deep.</p> - -<p>I have to go to the Corps Transport depot about some -water-carts for the trenches, so, taking my torch, I cross -the gully. The rain is pouring in torrents, and as I walk -the rushing water from the hills washes round my feet -high above my ankles. Parts of dugouts, boxes, men’s -kits, etc., continually come floating down on top of the -rushing stream. The thunder crashes overhead and my -torch is unnecessary, for the incessant flashes of forked -lightning illuminate my way. The wind beating against -my face takes my breath away, and makes the climb up -the high slope exhausting. I arrive at the mess dugout -of the IX Corps Transport. Their dugout is intact, for -it is on steeply sloping ground, but their floor is over -6 inches deep in water. They are all sitting at dinner -with gum-boots on, and are a merry party. Afterwards -I climb to D.H.Q., arriving breathless. Back in our dugout, -the storm still raging, appearing to go round and round -in circles, first dying off somewhat, then rushing back with -renewed fury; it runs its wild course till about eight o’clock, -when it seems to pass away over Sari Bair, leaving heavy -clouds pouring their burden of rain into the flooded gullies -and trenches. Towards nine the downfall slackens, and -shortly after stars become visible, and the black clouds -gradually roll away over the hills of Gallipoli. We have -a meal of bully beef and bread, for our dinner has been -washed away and no hot food is possible. The wind -from the north-west still blows with great violence, and -it becomes steadily colder and colder. Two of our dugouts -are intact, and we turn into these and get off to sleep,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span> -wondering if the drainage system in the trenches has -answered its demands.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 27th.</i></h3> - -<p>We wake up to find a drizzly rain falling, blown by a -strong north wind. Mud is everywhere, and the whole -of the beaches a quagmire. What were once dugouts are -now large puddles full of water. The system of trenches -for winter quarters across the various gullies and nullahs -has ceased to exist. Many of these are full to the brim -with water; all have water and mud covering their floors. -Twelve men taking shelter in their trench, which was -roofed by corrugated iron, and which is situated in the -gully in which we lived up to a week ago, have been drowned -by the roof collapsing. We have orders to send up medical -comforts. We send them up by A.T. carts. For the first -time a convoy of A.T. carts is seen on the Gibraltar road -in broad daylight.</p> - -<p>A gale develops in the afternoon. Elphinstone and I -go up to Hill 10. The road is in many parts under water, -and the whole a bog of wet, tenacious clay that clings to -one’s boots and almost pulls their heels off as one raises -each foot. What before was a pleasant country walk is -now a hard, exhausting “slow treadmill” made in a gale -that one has to determinedly bend one’s back to, to make -any headway at all. Last night the pack-mules had the -greatest difficulty in getting the rations up, and one or two -that fell into ravines were drowned. We call at the West -Riding R.E., and in Major Bailey’s dugout I find the floor -a foot deep in water and Major Bailey perched up on a -table, his feet resting on a ledge of the dugout, endeavouring -to get warm from an oil-drum fire. He appears -as cheery as ever; in fact, every time I see him he is always -merry and bright, evidently a habit, and a habit worth -cultivating. We arrange the position of the new ration -dump, though it is difficult to find cover for it. A line -of bushes is the only protection we can find. We go over -to the Dublin camp in the reserve trenches by Hill 10, -and, of course, it is flooded, and the men in a wretched -condition. We see the officer in charge about fatigues<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> -for the unloading of rations. As we come away we meet -Colonel Fuller, our G.S.O.1, who asks as to the conditions -of the roads on our left, and we cannot give him anything -but a bad report. We continue our way past the barbed -wire and second-line trenches to the 86th and 88th Brigade -H.Q. Turkish artillery is dead quiet, and hardly a rifleshot -is to be heard. Both Brigade H.Q. have withstood -the storm well, protected as they are by the small hills -on the side of which they have been constructed, the ground -sloping away in front.</p> - -<p>At the 86th Brigade we hear that our trenches on the -low land have been flooded to the brim, and in some parts -are now completely under water. Sentries are lying flat -in the mud and water outside, behind the trenches, watching -the enemy and in full view of him. There they lie, keeping -guard under such conditions as have hardly been known -before, sniped at now and again, and occasionally becoming -casualties. The 86th, being in the lowest trenches, -suffered the worst, for suddenly, as their trenches became -kneedeep in water, a torrent burst into a saphead, and in -a few minutes had swallowed up the first-line, the dugouts -and communication trenches. Men floundered about, -swarmed here and there, and clambered out on to the open. -A few less fortunate were drowned. Could it ever have -been imagined that men would drown in a trench? This -has now happened, and their bodies lie half floating, half -resting on the bottom of the trench, waiting to be dragged -out when nightfall comes.</p> - -<p>In this terribly cold northerly wind, gradually beginning -to freeze, those waiting sentries, with their clothes soaking -wet through, watch for the enemy, who probably is worse -off than we are. As often as possible they are relieved, -the relief creeping up in the broad open, chancing the -sniper’s easy shot. As we talk, a man comes past, leaning -on the arms of two R.A.M.C. men, who are taking him to -the advanced dressing station, a little way back. His -face is blue and swollen, and his teeth chattering as if with -fever. We go round to the H.Q. of the 88th Brigade and -ask for instructions as to what to send up in the way of -food and medical comforts. In talking to General Cayley,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span> -we make the remark that we are glad that his dugout has -not been washed away, but immediately feel reproved -for having said this by his replying that “it is not his -dugout, but the poor chaps in the trenches that he worries -about, because he can do nothing for them.”</p> - -<p>It takes us about a quarter of the time to get back, for -the wind literally blows us along, and it is difficult for us -to keep our feet in the sticky mud. Once I slip while -negotiating the side of a deep puddle, and fall backwards -into it, much to the amusement of some passing gunners. -At night it steadily becomes colder and colder, and the -driving, misty rain turns to snow, a northerly cold blizzard -setting in. I am up late arranging about the carting of -the rations and blankets to the sea of mud that was once -our trenches. It is freezing cold, but we shiver the more -when we think of those men lying out in the open behind -our front line.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 28th.</i></h3> - -<p>We wake up to find it bitterly cold and a northerly -blizzard driving with great force down the Hill. A Staff -officer comes into our dugout early and instructs me to -get as many medical comforts as possible in the way of -rum, brandy, milk, Oxo, etc., up to the line. I go down -to the Main Supply depot, and there find shelters made -of boxes and sailcovers built as temporary hospitals. They -are full of men frostbitten in legs, arms, and faces, who -lie in great distress, suffering agonies as their blood warms -up and circulates to the frozen parts of their bodies. -A hospital ship is standing quite close inshore off West -Beach, but five hundred yards from the pier, the closest -a hospital ship has moved to the beaches as yet. -Hodsall, the O.C., a temporary A.S.C. Major, does all he -can for me, and I collar all the comforts and fuel I can lay -my hands on. There is a plentiful supply, in spite of the -heavy demands of yesterday. Again, as yesterday, these -are conveyed up by daylight, and yet the Turks do not -shell us. We are extraordinarily free from shell fire. Our -line is held very thinly, only by forward parts, relieved -in daylight at frequent intervals regardless of snipers.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span> -Last night the frost was severe, and the men lying out -in the mud behind the soaking trenches suffered the -greatest hardship that a soldier could endure—namely to -lie out in the soaking clothes, which freeze stiff in a biting -wind, while the temperature rapidly falls to below zero.</p> - -<p>The enemy is more inactive than he has ever been, -showing that he has suffered as badly as we have, if not -worse. In front of the 86th Brigade the Turks hold slightly -higher ground than we do, and I think that they must -have opened one or two of their sapheads when their -trenches were flooded, thus allowing the water to rush -over to our side, engulfing all our first-line dugouts and -communication trenches. The gale blowing from the -north-east to-day is the fiercest that I have known, for, -as well as being biting cold, it drives stinging sleet before -it with terrific force. As I talk to an officer on the hill -of IX Corps Gully, outside my dugout, I have to stand -with my legs wide apart, bending my body against the -wind to prevent myself from being blown backwards on -the frozen ground. Many Turkish prisoners have come -in, in as bad a state of collapse as our men. Last night -a party of forty came over unmolested as far as the gully -behind our support trenches. Seeing some of our men -crowding around a coke brazier endeavouring to get warm, -they walked up to them with hands up, but were “shoo’d” -away like a lot of sheep by our half-frozen Tommies, who -advised them to “get to Hell out of it.” Pondering, they -walked over towards the Salt Lake and were taken in -by the casualty clearing station on “B” Beach. This -morning a few have died. Officers in the line, if they -were not on watch, were huddled together all night endeavouring -to get warmth from each other’s bodies. Ration -carts were unable to get to many parts of the line owing -to the mud and water in places being over the axles of -the wheels. Quantities of rum and rations were lost in -the mud. Telephone communication broke down, and -many men, cut off from the rest and having to watch the -enemy, froze and died at their posts.</p> - -<p>To-day, walking cases are streaming and staggering -down the roads from the trenches to advanced dressing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span> -stations, from advanced dressing stations to the casualty -clearing station, which is rapidly becoming overcrowded. -Such an influx of cases has come in so unexpectedly, that -the staff is unable to deal with them quickly. Frozen -and frostbitten men continually stagger in, collapse on -the damp floors of the tents and marquees, exhausted, to -wait their turn for medical attention. The sea is rough, -and it is impossible to get the cases off to the hospital -ship. One lighter has been swamped and a few cases -drowned. Motor-lorries are busy plying between the -casualty clearing station and West Beach all day, for -the casualty clearing station is crowded out. More improvised -shelters have been put up in the Main Supply -depot, in the Ordnance marquees, and in dugouts on the -beaches. Three exhausted men staggering down the -Gibraltar road to the advanced dressing station are a -unique party. Linking arms, they painfully stumble along -to the refuge of a dressing station, where, on arrival, they -are received with surprise and interest, for two are British -Tommies and the third a Turk, all allies against a common -enemy.</p> - - -<h3><i>7 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Colonel Pearson, O.C. Lancashire Fusiliers, of Lancashire -Landing fame, visits us in an exhausted state, his -clothes damp and sodden. We provide him with an outfit -of dry clothes, gathered from our respective kits. He -talks about going back to his regiment to-night, which is -sheltering in the C.R.E. nullah, by our forward ration -dump, but I think soon he will collapse altogether and -have to be evacuated. He was all last night holding a -portion of our flooded, sodden and freezing line. At -night Horne and I go on to cart some of the rations from -the C.R.E. dump to Hill 10 by A.T. carts. On arrival -at the camp of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, we find a poor -shivering fatigue party waiting for us. I had expected -to find these men in a miserable condition, for their camp -has suffered heavily in the storm, and even the best built -dugouts have been washed entirely away. We have -brought with us whisky-bottles filled with rum and water.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span> -As the last cart is unloaded, we hand the bottles to the -sergeant, who calls the men up one at a time. They -come forward eagerly as each name is called, “Private -Murphy! Private O’Brien!” etc., and drink a tot from -the bottle handed to them.</p> - -<p>It is amusing to watch them standing waiting their -turn, with keen anticipation, for a pull at the bottle under -the superintendence of their watchful sergeant, who regulates -fair play in the length of the drink by interrupting -an extra long one by snatching the bottle from the man’s -mouth, now and again. As we go away, several of the men -shout, “The blessings of Jasus be on you, sir!” in a -Dublin brogue, and we leave the poor devils to shiver in -the camp the rest of the night. We are delayed in our -return by a chase after two mules, which we capture after -much difficulty amongst gorse-bushes, trees, and boulders. -Calling in at the Australians’ dugout on Kangaroo Beach, -we see them sitting round a welcome log fire, and as we -warm ourselves, a figure covered in a blanket, his head -swathed in a cloth, creeps in stealthily like a cat. He -is a half-frozen Drabi, edging towards the fire to warm -himself. An Australian makes him understand that he -had better go back to his camp, and orders him out. He -creeps out, but after a pause I see him come back stealthily -once more, unnoticed by the others, and sit at the back -of the stove on his haunches, his hands spread out for -warmth. He is at last noticed, but some one says, “Let -the poor devil be!” and we go on talking, taking no notice -of him.</p> - - -<h3><i>November 29th.</i></h3> - -<p>The gale is still heavy, but the blizzard has stopped. -The sky is clear overhead, but it is freezing hard, and the -steady stream of casualties from the storm still continues -to be evacuated. The whole country-side has frozen hard. -All day we are hard at work sending up comforts to the -line and to the C.R.E. nullah, and nursing the casualties -who have arrived in our little camp. The wind is slackening -a little, and in consequence the sea is going down. Advantage -is therefore being taken of this to thin down the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span> -overcrowded casualty clearing station and the many -improvised shelters, which are overflowing with cases. The -hospital ship is standing close inshore, only five hundred -yards off West Beach. My visits to D.H.Q. on the top -of the hill above our gully are made to-day with great -exertion in the teeth of the bitterly cold gale, and I arrive -at the top each time absolutely exhausted. Before I go -into the D.A.Q.M.G.’s little dugout, which is his office and -bedroom combined, I have to sit down on a boulder to -recover my breath.</p> - -<p>Horne and I go up with the A.T. carts to take more of -the forward reserve rations from the C.R.E. nullah over -to the left of Hill 10, for two forward dumps have to be -made of equal numbers of rations, and the one we have now -is therefore being halved. Hill 10 is a position of which -several of our batteries have taken advantage, and in consequence -is a favourite target of the Turkish gunners. One -veritably walks on a surface of shrapnel bullets around -this hill, lying like pebbles on the shore. On arrival at -the nullah we find that all the Supply boxes, with their -tarpaulin covers, have been built up to form a large improvised -dressing station. They are full of cases of frostbite -and exhaustion. From all around comes the sound of -men groaning. And so the carting of rations to Hill 10 -is off to-night. As I walk back, I hear a groaning voice -calling “Mother, mother!” and peering through the -darkness of the night, I see the form of a man lying under -a gorse-bush. Poor devil! His mother, to whom he calls, -is probably knitting him socks at home. We carry him -along to the 89th Field Ambulance Dressing Station, just -to the right of the nullah, having to negotiate a muddy -brook on the way. We walk back fast, to get up a circulation, -and find on arrival that a nice fire has been kept up. -The roads are hardening with the frost. This will aid the -solution of the transport difficulties, which have been almost -insuperable during these awful last few days, for the wind -has been so strong as to almost prevent the use of the light -motor-ambulance, and horse transport is restricted, owing, -I find, to animals having already been evacuated just before -the storm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>November 30th.</i></h3> - -<p>We awake to find the gale has died away. It is a cool, -beautiful day, with not a cloud in the sky. In fact, the -sun is beaming warm. It is hard to believe that we have -just passed through a terrible blizzard. The beach is -crowded with cases of frostbite waiting for evacuation, -which is rapidly going on now. Men lie about everywhere -on the beaches, with their limbs swathed in bundles of -bandages. Many cases are serious, and not a few will -lose their limbs. The Main Supply depot is now a large -hospital of shelters built of boxes and sailcovers. All over -the beaches men are hunting about for lost property buried -in the mud. Dugouts and trenches are being drained of -the remaining water. The beaches are gradually becoming -themselves again. The Division has suffered heavily.</p> - -<p>On the inspection of the Royal Fusiliers to-day, one -company, on being called to attention, proved to be a -company consisting of Captain Gee, a sergeant-major, and -a private. Captain Gee shouted, “Sergeant-major, call the -company to attention.” The sergeant-major then shouted, -“‘W’ Company, ’shun!” and the one man left, who was -the company cook, sprang to attention.</p> - -<p>Gee, forty-five years of age, and who at the best of times -could not be called robust-looking, stuck this storm through -at his post in the trenches, which are situated on the lowest -ground—trenches which in consequence suffered the worst -of all—until he was relieved.</p> - -<p>He told me after that on coming back on relief he came -to a small nullah, and that he was so weak and finished -that he actually cried like a child before he could summon -up the will-power to get across that little brook, which at -ordinary times he would have cleared at a leap.</p> - - -<h3><i>Later.</i></h3> - -<p>The evacuation of Suvla, which was decided on before the -storm and then cancelled, I believe has now been finally -decided on. Parties are now hard at work at night improving -the second line, which stretches behind our first line -on the same latitude as our C.R.E. dump, across the -Gibraltar road and over to Hill 10. A third line is being<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span> -dug just a short way in on the mainland from “W” -Beach, and over the hill of the promontory a fourth line -also. Our dugout is now being rapidly repaired, and the -dugouts behind on the higher ground, one story higher, -are now finished. All the dugouts are built together as -a whole, really forming a picturesque house. On the ground -floor, up a short path bordered by little gorse-bushes and -a rockery, one enters our messroom, furnished with a table, -arm-chairs, and a stove made from an oil-drum. Two -smaller rooms lead out from the left, and two from the -right. One is the clerk’s office, in which he sleeps, and -the other three are each occupied by Horne, Elphinstone, -and myself.</p> - -<p>Next to our dugouts, on the same level, are the dugouts -of the Q.M.’s of a few regiments, which are built on the -same scale as ours, but separated by a flight of about a -dozen steps running up in a bend to a row of smaller dugouts, -which house the N.C.O.’s of our Supply Section, a -few quartermaster-sergeants, regimental N.C.O.’s, and the -two Brigade postal staffs. Opposite, in the gully, as the -trenches that we had made are now damaged beyond -repair by the recent storm, the remainder of the men live -in shelters made from sailcovers and tarpaulins, with -shrapnel-proof roofs, built in places where boulders and -mounds of earth protect them from high explosive shells. -Behind us is an Egyptian encampment, situated in full -view of the Turks among rocks and boulders. But as -they sleep most of the day, working only at night digging -on the beaches, they cause very little movement to be -seen by the enemy, and in consequence have been very -little shelled. If a shell does come near them, however, -they make no bones about running as far away as possible, -chattering like a lot of chickens.</p> - -<p class="b2">All day cases of frozen men, now happily diminishing -in number, are being shipped off. It was the most terrible -storm I have ever witnessed.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="DECEMBER">DECEMBER</h2> - - -<h3><i>December 1st.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">A beautiful</span> day, but very cold. Turks shell the beaches -pretty heavily in the morning and afternoon with high -explosive and cause some casualties. Quite a new kind of -shell, I think, and from new guns. One shell hits our -depot, smashing our clerks’ office, but fortunately nobody -is hurt. Poign Destre, of the Munsters, a charming boy, -comes to spend a few days with us. He was out on -the parapet during the night of the storm and was carried -back unconscious, but is now quite fit again. Times are -rather anxious just at present. Troops arrive this morning -to reinforce. Evacuation of stores and equipment proceeding -full steam ahead.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 2nd.</i></h3> - -<p>Drafts arrive for the 29th Division. A beautiful day -and not too cold. Turks busy with shrapnel. Go up to -Brigade H.Q. with Horne. While up there, Turks shell -beaches. Suddenly they open fire with two guns and -shower of 5·9 shrapnel along the new second-line trenches -which we have just passed. We have not had this 5·9 -shrapnel since October 27th. About forty shells come over -in rapid succession, two at a time. I hope they do not -pepper the beaches with them. The ground is still damp -after the flood. We are warned to expect many of these -floods and blizzards. We pass General Byng and Staff -while up at Brigade. General Cayley still as cheery as -ever. Everybody busy repairing damaged dugouts. Work -of evacuation proceeding very well. I wonder if John -Turk can see. We have the advantage of the piers and -beaches being under cover.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>December 3rd.</i></h3> - -<p>We now hear a rumour that we are not evacuating at -all, and that only the 29th are going, but I do not believe -this. We learn this rumour from Sergeant Jones, of Jones’s -water dump. Every day rumours are circulated from -Sergeant Jones’s dugout on “A” Beach. All day officers -and men who pass call in here and say, “Good-morning -[or good-evening], Jones; what is the latest rumour?” -They are invited to sit down while Jones tells the latest -and best that he had heard from all sources—trenches, -Navy, and beaches. I have seen at one time in Jones’s -dugout a Brigadier, Major, and two Captains and a corporal -all sitting round the oil-stove fire while Sergeant Jones, -at his table, is eating his supper. As an officer comes in, -Jones stands up, saying, “Good-evening, sir; what can -I do for you?” If it is water required, then that worry -has to be settled; if it is an ordinary call at this half-way -house, then the officer is invited to sit down by the fire, -Jones adding, if he should be at supper, “You will excuse -me going on with my supper, won’t you, sir?” One night -he said to me, “May I press you to a plate of porridge, -sir?” We do not look upon him as a soldier or an N.C.O. -It is difficult to describe how we regard him.</p> - -<p>He is popular with everybody, and all officers, after a while, -fall into the same manner of dealing and talking with him. -Personally, I feel my relations with him are as they would -be to the landlord of a familiar roadside inn. “A” Beach -now being deserted, all and sundry, with the exception -of Jones, being shelled out, Jones has to remain there, for -this beach is the only possible place for a water dump. -Dugout and dump remind me of a lonely roadside inn -where I call on my journeys between the beaches and the -line. He gets shelled now and again, and has had some -remarkably lucky escapes. Men have been killed right -and left of him. But most of the drawing of the water -is done under the cover of the night. Happily, for our -Division the water question has been nearly solved by -our Engineers finding wells behind our part of the line, -although we still have to draw water by cart from Jones -to augment the supply from the forward wells. Other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span> -Divisions, however, are not so fortunate. They continue -to nightly draw water from Jones for the troops in the line -and reserve nullahs by all kinds of receptacles, and cart -it up on A.T. carts.</p> - -<p>Scotch mist and drizzly rain all day. Hardly any shelling -on our front or on part of Turks. More drafts for 29th -Division arrive. We are now making a rest camp in one -of the nullahs, where men can change their clothes in case -the weather gets bad again.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 4th.</i></h3> - -<p>A very calm day, cold, cloudy, and dull. All last night -there was quite a lot of rifle fire and bombing. Starting -at daybreak, Turks get very busy with shrapnel, of which -they appear to have plenty. At midday they are bombarding -our position very energetically. We reply, and the -battleships join in. In the afternoon our neighbourhood -is shelled with these new high explosive shells, one shell -dropping in our Supply depot; but no one is hurt. Dusk, -and all is quiet. A relief. Poign Destre leaves Peninsula. -Lucky devil! We have shipped off to-day a lot of base -kits, surplus baggage, ordnance stores, and even food supplies, -by means of the A.T. carts and on the tramway running -in the sunken trench. A.T. carts returning empty from -the trenches have been bringing large quantity of surplus -kit and stores away during the last few nights. Under -the cover of the protecting mounds of earth they have -been off-loaded on to lighters, which with no attempt to -disguise their intentions have been towed out to supply -ships, making fast on the side away from the enemy, their -cargo being loaded by the ships’ derricks into the various -holds. Very little of this work has been done so far, but -it is obvious to all that we are evacuating in the near future. -I can’t describe our feelings. Up to a short time ago -stores were being busily unloaded day and night, and now -the reverse is happening. It is as if a High Commander -had suddenly shouted the order, “As you were.”</p> - - -<h3><i>December 5th.</i></h3> - -<p>Heavy gunning all day by both sides—very heavy and -continuous. From twelve to one the Turks give us a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span> -general bombardment, and we get our share in our little -camp. Men’s cookhouse wrecked, but no one hurt; the -cook happens to be at the depot a hundred yards down -the gully drawing rations. It is evident that the Turks -are now getting regular supplies of ammunition, probably -direct from Germany. We are looking to Russia. If -only she can come through Rumania and attack Bulgaria -in the rear and cut off Turkey, Turkey is finished. We -get rumours that she is through, and are rather looking -towards her as a besieged city looks towards its deliverers. -Snipers busy just now, on account of the exposed position -of our washed-out trenches. Fresh drafts arrive for the -29th. Is it to be an evacuation for all, or is the 29th only -going. If so, why do drafts arrive for the 29th?</p> - - -<h3><i>December 6th.</i></h3> - -<p>A very beautiful day. Turks busy shelling us. We -reply energetically. One continued roar of guns all day. -Our beaches shelled midday and late afternoon. But -very few casualties, the mounds of earth affording excellent -cover, and all shells are high explosive, no shrapnel. -Trenches are still in muddy state in low land. At night -we shell their positions.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 7th.</i></h3> - -<p>A very beautiful, cool day, but it is getting colder. Turks -start shelling us early. Their shells are much improved -and are evidently new. Horne and I start off to Brigade -H.Q. after lunch, walking up our gully. We pass a boxing -match in full swing. I do not think that the men know -anything of the evacuation. I hear unofficially that it has -been postponed indefinitely. Perhaps it is off altogether. -We appear to be getting through the winter so well, that -perhaps it might be as well to stick these storms and not -give up this job of forcing the Dardanelles, which if successful -would mean so much to the cause of the Allies. As -we near the top of the gully, we hear the boom of a gun, -coming from the direction in which we are walking. It -is the first time that a shell for the beach has come from -this direction. By its sound I know instinctively that the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span> -beastly thing is coming down very near us. I shout to -Horne, “Drop flat!” and both of us fall beside a prickly -gorse-bush as the thing bursts with a deafening explosion -on the high ground on our right. We get to our feet and -look back at the boxing match, and cannot help being -amused at the way the Tommies have quickly cleared or -lain down, with the instinct of “veterans of the beaches.” -The combatants in the ring, who have paused, resume their -match. The crowd again collects, continually being added -to by a stream of men coming over the skyline from the -next gully. This should draw Turkey’s fire; and sure -enough it does, for as we reach the hill at the top of the -gully we hear another coming. We duck behind a boulder -as it passes over our heads and bursts twenty yards our -side of the boxing ring. This clears the crowd and ends -the match for the day. The Turks cannot see the gully, -but know that men are collecting there by the procession -of them streaming over the skyline of the promontory. -As we walk on towards the 88th Field Ambulance, about -four more shells scream over the hill to the gully, which -by this time is deserted; and as we sit in the ambulance -waiting for a friend who is walking up with us to Brigade -H.Q., the Turks increase their range and send a few nice -fat, juicy ones over to the beaches.</p> - -<p>Leaving the ambulance, we walk down the slope to the -Gibraltar road and meet Grant, our G.S.O.3, who has just -come back from the trenches. He is in shorts, caked with -mud up to his knees and thickly bespattered over the rest -of his body, which gives evidence of the present state of -the trenches, even though it is over ten days since the -storm. He tells us that in fifteen minutes we are going -to open fire with all guns on to the unfortunate Pimple. -We continue our way up the Gibraltar road, when at -four o’clock precisely the ships’ guns—with a roar that -makes me jump, for I am again walking in a direct -line from which they are firing—fire, and the great -shells screaming overhead can be seen bursting with -great violence on the insignificant geographical formation. -Almost at once all shore batteries pour shells in rapid -succession on to the small target of the Pimple, which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span> -disappears from sight under a great cloud of drifting dust -and smoke of all colours.</p> - -<p>Arriving at Brigade H.Q., we find McLaughlin on the roof -of his dugout looking at the show through glasses, and -we join him. As is always the case when John Turk is -being bombarded, the bullets become free and frequent, -and “overs” begin to fly about us. We have tea with -McLaughlin and sit around the nice brick open hearth, -in which a log fire is burning, and chat. The General and -Brigade Major are up at Gun Hill observing the show. -Heavy gunning is heard in the south all the afternoon; -at night the Turk sends a shell over our way at odd -intervals, but in our gully we are practically safe, for -his targets are usually the beaches.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 9th.</i></h3> - -<p>Yes; the evacuation of Suvla is now a reality. I hear -to-day that we have now begun the intermediate stage -of the evacuation. It has been a reality for some days. -The storm only delayed it. We have just completed the -preliminary stage. We hear that it will be but a few days -now when not a British subject will be left alive here unless -as a prisoner. The shelling to-day is in fits and starts. -High explosive shells are searching the beach, bursting well -and with a louder explosion than in past days. But West -Beach is well protected, and the steady shipment of vehicles -and ordnance goes on all day. At night, empty ration -carts go up to the line to bring back men’s surplus kits, -blankets, surplus ammunition, and the surplus part of the -usual accumulation of baggage that a regiment takes with -it to the trenches and to dumps just behind.</p> - -<p>Horne, Elphinstone, Hunt, and I are on the beach all -night, taking shifts in superintending the unloading of the -carts as they arrive back full. They come back in a steady -stream. The carts that have taken up rations, stores, -special ammunition, such as bombs, etc., earlier in the -evening, all return loaded with kits. We have a few men -to help us, but hardly enough, and we therefore work ourselves -to keep warm. It is a monotonous job. The Drabis -appear fed-up, and we have to watch them carefully to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span> -see that they do not slope off with their loaded carts to -their lines. Kipling once said “East is East and West is -West, and never the twain shall meet.” Is this correct? -I wonder. For our Tommies seem to work amicably with -the Drabis. The white transport corporal, who is with us -marshalling the transport, on receiving an order from me, -shouts out into the darkness of the beach to the Indian -jemadar, “Mahommed Hussan!” A voice answers back -with a drawl, “Hullo”; my corporal shouts back, “Wait -’arf a mo, will yer?” and the voice answers “A-all ri-ight.” -East—and West.</p> - -<p>All night, lighters are being loaded up and towed out -to the ships. Last A.T. carts unloaded at 5 a.m. We turn -in at 5.30 a.m., ready for sleep.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 10th.</i></h3> - -<p>A fine, cool day. Usual shelling with “hot-stuff” shells. -Evacuation of stores going on apace. I think the 29th is -to be the last off. Medical comforts in the way of champagne, -port, brandy, and whisky are now going cheap, and -I send them round to all the battalion messes, the two -Brigades, and Divisional H.Q. They are not troubling to -evacuate this stuff, and I am trying to get a full share for -the 29th. Personally, I should like to give them champagne -dinners every night, after what they have been through. -No food being landed now, except a little bread and fresh -meat. Instead of that, the reserve at the depot is being -steadily reduced.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 11th.</i></h3> - -<p>Last night work went steadily on—the loading up of -lighters and the towing of these to ships, where the derricks, -rattling away feverishly, emptied them. A surprisingly -large quantity of all kinds of material has been evacuated, -yet the beaches and the life thereon appear unchanged. -All tentage and camps are to be left standing, and up to -the last day as much transport as possible will move about -on the top of the promontory. To-night the 89th Field -Ambulance has left, together with some men on light duty. -Also a large number of men from the 11th and 13th -Divisions.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>December 12th.</i></h3> - -<p>Nothing of much account to-day. Everybody hard at -work, dismantling and getting away all impedimenta. It -can readily be realized what a vast amount of all kinds -and conditions of stores and equipment this impedimenta -represents for an army of 60,000 men who have been -stationary on a small bit of land for over four months. -The work goes on, punctuated at intervals by a few shells -from the enemy’s batteries; but it is quite normal shelling, -and I feel sure the Turks know nothing. They can see -nothing. The Staff work is excellent. The beach each -day appears unchanged. Many troops, beach details, etc., -move off.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 13th.</i></h3> - -<p>A cold south wind is blowing and makes us all very -anxious. Is it going to develop into another storm which -will upset all our well-laid plans and so place us at -the mercy of the Turk? These are anxious days. We are -now issuing rations from the forward reserve stock in the -C.R.E. nullah nightly, and our dump on the beach is now -clear. Medical comforts are liberal, and also milk, which -the troops appreciate, but bread and meat are issued only -in very small quantities. The rations at Hill 10 are untouched, -remaining there to be issued should we have to -hold the second line of trenches, which are now complete. -Work is being carried on feverishly for completing the third -line. All work on the low ground has to be done at night, -but on the high ground, where nullahs and dips in the -ground afford cover, work goes on by day and night. Meeting-places -have been arranged, where the troops will concentrate -before proceeding to the beaches on the night -that they have orders to evacuate. They are termed -“posts,” and are lettered “W,” “Y,” “Z,” etc., the letters -showing illuminated through a dark background. Of -course, all such posts are placed in positions which are -under cover. Each unit is to be guided to the post allotted -to it, there to await orders, which will be telephoned up to -the post from the piers. An officer of the Evacuation -Staff will wait at the post telephone for the message from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span> -the beach, after marshalling and checking the troops on -arrival there.</p> - -<p>I see Brigade H.Q. each night now, when I am up at -the C.R.E. dump issuing the daily rations. Their H.Q. -are now in the same H.Q. as the C.R.E. had. Next door -is the Brigade H.Q. of a Brigade of artillery, the guns of -which are in position near by in front, just behind and -round about. While there, an officer told me that if -necessary his guns will be putting up a curtain of fire over -the Turks should they attempt to follow on after our troops -have evacuated the first line. Their guns are being left -in position for this purpose, and will be rendered useless -after the infantry have passed back. Two medical officers -and about twenty R.A.M.C. men have been detailed to -remain at the casualty clearing station after all troops -have left on the last night. Their duty is to attend to any -wounded who may have to be left to fall into the hands -of the Turk, they of course giving themselves up as prisoners.</p> - -<p>If it is at all possible, pinnaces from one of the battleships -will be ready to take them off, provided there are no wounded. -Their tents are being lined with sand-bags as protection -against bullets. The Turk will not shell them.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 14th.</i></h3> - -<p>The time gets nearer, yet the aspect of the beaches does -not change. Shelling is about the same, but getting rather -bad, at odd, but fortunately rare, intervals. The days are -now lettered, but the letter of each day is secret to all -but a very few. All we know is that when the last night -does arrive it will be “Z” night. I have a shrewd idea -that to-day is either “W” or “V” day, so that the time -is near. It will be hard luck if I collide with a shell now, -after dodging them all these months. What of the schemes -for evacuating the first line when all those in rear are clear -away? The line for the last few nights will be very thinly -held by us.</p> - -<p>The second and third lines are thickly wired with barbed -wire in front, which stands in fences 8 feet high. At -intervals there are passages through these fences to allow -us to pass through on our way to and from the line. On<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span> -the last night these passages will be closed, and the only -way to get through will be by barbed wire gates across the -few roads. Officers will be on duty at these gates, and -they will have fixed thereon telephonic communication to -the beaches. The final evacuation of the front line will be -carried out as is the present daily evacuation of troops, -keeping to a strict programme. The officer in charge of -the last party down a certain road will report his unit -and name to the officer in charge of the gate. This will -be checked by the list which the officer will have with him -of the last parties down, and if correct the officer, who will -then know that the last troops have passed through, will -telephone this information to the beach, close and bar the -gate, and proceed with the party to the next line and -himself report to the officer at that gate, where the same -procedure will follow. And so on to the beaches, the only -way to which is by the roads. After the last parties have -passed through the last line, then those on the beaches -will know that all have passed safely through, and that -there are three lines of trenches thickly protected by barbed -wire between the beaches and the enemy. The last parties -to leave will be hurried on board the waiting destroyers, -trawlers, and ships; the skeleton framework of the Supply -depot, the remaining stores which have been unavoidably -left, will be set ablaze by the igniting of petrol-sodden -hay. The remaining officers will make a bolt for the few -remaining pinnaces. That is the scheme.</p> - -<p>The British population of Suvla daily dwindles away, -unbeknown to the ignorant Turk. Ammunition and -ordnance and all manner and kind of stores and equipment -are daily disappearing into the holds of the waiting -ships. These ships are not more numerous than the ships -which have lain in the bay in the safety of the boom since -August 6th, so that from their presence our plot is not -given away. To the enemy our daily life appears the -same, and he gives us our daily ration of shells—now of -good quality and effective—and no doubt is laughing at -us, with the memory of the recent awful storm and the -coming blizzards of a rigorous winter. If all goes well, -if the well-laid schemes of our G.S. “gang not agley,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span> -and no bloody rearguard action is forced upon us, it will -be our turn to laugh in a few days. To-night the wind -has changed to the north-west; we may hoodwink the -Turks, but not the mighty elements, and we pray that -they will be our allies in our task. If our enemies, then -we must give ourselves up in unconditional surrender, -hoping for no mercy.</p> - -<p>Carver has just arrived from Helles on a mission quite -apart from the scheme of evacuation. To our surprise he -is unaware that we are evacuating, and tells us that all -at Helles are also ignorant of the coming event. No -preparation of any kind is being made to evacuate Helles. -He leaves again to-night, back for Helles. The 86th -Brigade and part of D.H.Q. are now moving off. I go to -“Y” forming-up post, just at the foot of our gully, and -view the scenes there. The beaches have been shelled -this afternoon. If they but drop a few over this evening -they cannot fail to claim many victims. Shadowy figures -march up in perfect order and form up. Roll-calls are -made, sharp commands issued: “Stand at ease!” “Stand -easy!” whereupon the figures talk, lean on their rifles, -or lie down resting on the ground.</p> - -<p>Elphinstone is going off with his Brigade, as he is their -Supply Officer. I make him up a box of the plentiful -medical comforts, including a few bottles of champagne -for his Brigade H.Q. to feast on while on board. I say -good-bye to many friends in the Brigade, as the order -to move down is telephoned up from West Beach to the -officer at the receiver attached to “Y” post. Troops are -called to attention, and in two deep they march down -towards the beach, entering the safety of the trench that -has been dug there, pass in safety behind the mounds of -earth and the small, rocky promontory, and file along the -pier in single file up a gangway on to a small paddle-steamer, -which sails out to the bay to the waiting ship. -I listen to the chatter of the Dublin Fusiliers, to their -philosophical comments on the situation, and feel glad for -them that they are seeing the last of this damnable campaign. -One of them has heard “on good authority,” and -tells his friend, “that they are bound for Aldershot.” I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span> -leave them and walk back. No shells come over. Inland -I hear the steady crack, crack, crack of the rifles. I turn -into bed. Our Brigade, the old 88th, alone of the Division -is left in the line.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 15th.</i></h3> - -<p>The wind is cold and blowing steadily from the north-east, -yet the sea is not too rough for the getting off of stores. -Lord Howard de Walden and General Percival, the Brigadier -of the 86th Brigade, which embarked last night, are now -on the beach as part of the regulating Staff of the evacuation -programme. This Staff, controlled by General Fanshawe, -is almost as efficient as could be, with the result -that the last stage of the evacuation is working like clockwork. -Every man is accounted for. <i>No</i> man can leave -before his time, <i>no</i> man should be left behind. Commander -Unwin, who gained the V.C. at the landing of April 25th -for gallantry on “V” Beach, is in charge of conveyance -of stores, animals, and men from the beaches to the ships, -and night and day he is on duty on the piers. He stands -over 6 feet and is broad in proportion, with the typical -clean-shaven face of a sailor, and with a voice that roars -orders through a megaphone, causing those who are ordered -to jump about a good deal quicker on their jobs than they -probably would do otherwise.</p> - -<p>I go down on the beach with a Staff officer this morning -after a few “Good-morning” shells have crashed on -the beach roads and on the mounds of earth, and we call -at the embarkation office, in a sand-bagged house, dug and -built in the cover of a rock. There we find a few of the -Staff hard at work. The weather has been kind, and we -are up to time with the programme. We talk to two -Yeomanry officers who are on the Evacuation Staff. Everything -is working perfectly, and I feel confident that we shall -succeed in evacuating long before the Turk discovers our -absence. Ships, when loaded full with supplies and passengers, -proceed to Mudros Harbour, where they are unloaded -quickly, coming back the following night. No ships pass -to and fro between here and Lemnos during the day, so -that every morning that the Turk wakes up he notices no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span> -extra ships lying anchored or the absence of the ships -departed. The view of the shipping lying in the bay -inside the boom appears unchanged, as is the case of the -beaches day by day.</p> - -<p>Regularly at dusk we go up to the C.R.E. nullah and -issue rations from the reserve supplies there. To-night we -issue to the 88th Brigade only, and the work in consequence -is quickly finished. The distance to the line is now short -for the A.T. carts to take the rations up, for the best part -of their journey is made empty, namely from the lines at -the end of the promontory to our dump in the C.R.E. -nullah. The journey back to their lines from the trenches -is now made with empty carts, for all forward stores have -been evacuated. There is no doubt that the Turk hears -the carts approaching to the various cookhouses, for the -carts rattle and the various parts of the harness clank -loudly. Their sound is certain to be heard by him in his -front line, for the nights here are so still. The Turk fires -over towards the direction where he knows the roads lie, -hoping to claim a casualty in mule or man.</p> - -<p>The late two Brigade H.Q. are now uninhabited and -closed, and whoever opens the doors of the several dugouts -will be blasted immediately into eternity by bombs attached -to the doors, seats, and cupboards. I see my Brigade -close by our dump in the C.R.E. nullah, and the atmosphere -is cheery and full of confidence. Crack, crack, crack -the rifles in front sing away. I hear one bullet pass, but -the few bullets that reach this nullah are spent in force -and drop harmlessly to the ground.</p> - -<p>Major Bailey, as cheery as ever, calls in our dugout -when we arrive back, and we give him a good dinner of -tinned roast fowl and champagne before he embarks with -his Field Company. I go down again to “Y” formation -post, and the scene there is the same as last night, shadowy -columns of men arriving in good order, lying down to await -telephonic instructions to proceed to the beach. The -beaches are full of hundreds and hundreds of men moving -in single file along the piers and up the gangways and on -board ship, while at little coves near by lighters are busy -feverishly loading with animals, baggage, and remaining -equipment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>December 16th.</i></h3> - -<p>Still no change on the beaches. Still the same fitful -white puffs of Turkish shrapnel over the wooded lowland. -Still the “ration” allowance of Turkish high explosive on -to the beaches. And yet tons and tons of stores and -equipment have left, and thousands of men from here are -now safe in the camps at Mudros. A light north-east -breeze is blowing with bright sunshine, and it is very clear. -The conditions, for our scheme, are perfect. Our second -line is now crowded with troops, who remain well under -cover during the day. Water for these is a difficulty, as -there are no wells close handy and it has to be carted up -to them daily from the beach. Five 80-gallon tanks are -fixed in position along this line, which are kept full of water -as an emergency. Our front line is but thinly held, and -all who pass between this second and front line must keep -to the roads, for the country is freely strewn with all -devices of trip-bombs, which await the Turk should he -discover what we are up to, immediately after we evacuate -the front line, and come on to give us battle. As yet I -am certain that he knows nothing, so well are our Evacuation -Staff working. And the last night—“Z” night—is -approaching very near now. I believe to-night is “W” -night. I issue as usual, and visit Brigade H.Q. Take a -stroll on the beaches after dinner to view the scene of -men and animals quietly disappearing off the land that -we have shed so much blood in conquering, and then I -go off to bed.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 17th.</i></h3> - -<p>Early this morning we have showers of rain, which are -followed by a southerly breeze, quickly blowing them away. -Brilliant sunshine makes the day quite hot. During the -night I receive orders to issue two days’ rations to-night -to the 88th Brigade and the rest of the Division, and -afterwards to embark with all A.S.C. details along with -D.H.Q. I am down on the beach in the afternoon getting -our kits shipped off. At five o’clock the Turks open fire -with two guns on to the beaches and beach roads, and -the first few cause casualties. The shells are first-class,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span> -and burst with a deafening crash. One gun is on Sari -Bair and the other is on the hills on the left of Anafarta. -They continue until shortly after dusk—about 6.20 p.m. -Five minutes after, the beaches are alive with men once -more, and the work of evacuation proceeds energetically. -This bout of shelling makes us anxious, as it would appear -that our plot has been discovered. I go up to C.R.E. -dump and issue two days’ rations to the 88th Brigade -and the few remaining odd units. We leave the balance -of the reserve supplies. They are too near the line to be -burnt on the last night, and we leave them as a present -of thanksgiving to our enemy, the Turk, who has “played -the game” throughout the campaign. I say good-bye -to the Brigade and express the hope that I shall see them -all safe and well in Egypt, where I believe we are going -for a good rest and refitment. Nobody can deny that the -29th deserve it.</p> - -<p>I go back and have a last meal with Horne. Our camp -will be deserted to-morrow, yet if an enemy aeroplane -sails over, no change will be noted. Our dugouts are left -standing intact. I, with the details, go down to “Y” -forming-up post, and there meet, as on previous nights, -parties and companies of men arriving. I call the roll -of my men, and am instructed by the Adjutant of the C.R.E. -to fall my men in behind the D.H.Q. party when the order -is telephoned up from West Beach. A wait of three-quarters -of an hour. We hope no shells will arrive. Horne -comes up to say good-bye to me. I wish him good luck, -not envying him his wait of forty-eight hours.</p> - -<p>To-night is “X” night. The order from the beach -arrives. All are called to attention. We march off, through -the Main Supply depot, down into the trench, over the -open space of West Beach, along the pier. A short pause -here, of ten minutes, and then in single file we pass up the -gangway over the sunken ships which act as a breakwater -to the little harbour, and so on board a paddle-steamer. -In half an hour she is full. It is a lovely moonlight night. -We steam out into the bay, come alongside a small steamer, -and file on board her. I go up on deck and view the scene -of Suvla Bay by moonlight. I can hear the crack of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span> -rifles from inland—and also voices from the beaches; now -and again a torch is flashed as a lighter crunches upon the -beach. With a soft swishing sound, a lighter glides past -us to some other ship. The whole bay and foreshore is -bathed in moonlight, and as I look, all those eight months -of hardships, gloom, and danger pass in review before me. -A feeling as of a great burden being lifted off my mind -comes over me, and a sense of extreme gladness that at -last the long-drawn horror is past—and what horror! -“Never again!” I think to myself. “Never again!”</p> - -<p>I look towards Anzac and notice that the whole sky is -aflame—the stores are alight. Probably a stack of supplies -which has caught fire by mistake. And then, as I look, a -curious mist arises, low at first, off the sea—as if with an -invisible hand, a cloudy cloak is slowly draped over the -whole Peninsula. First Suvla, then Anzac and the coast -line become blotted out, and I see now nothing but a grey -mist. Suvla Bay and its horrors, its hopes, and disappointments -are lost to my sight for ever—for by the time the -mist has dispersed the ship has moved away.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 18th.</i></h3> - -<p>After a good night spent on the floor of the wardroom, -lying on my “British warm” with my cap as a pillow, I -wake up about 7 a.m., wondering where on earth I have got -to. I hear that now delightful sound, the pulse of ship’s -engines, and know, with a happy feeling, that I am sailing -on a ship to the friendly waters of the harbour of Lemnos. -No breakfast is to be had, for all troops, officers and -men, except myself, have embarked with rations. Stupid -of me to forget myself, when it was my job to see that all -troops went off with rations. I explore the ship and cadge -a topping breakfast of eggs and ham off one of the crew. -I go into his cabin and eat it on the Q.T. At twelve o’clock -Lemnos heaves in sight, and at one o’clock we enter the -harbour. It is all but five months since I was here last, -and the camps have doubled and trebled their size, and -doubled and trebled their number. As we pass the French -and British battleships, Monitors, and destroyers, the -respective crews come to the sides of their ships and gaze<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span> -with interest at us. But there is no demonstration. When -I last passed these ships, five months ago, the crews cheered -us, and cheered again as we passed out to war. Now they -look on, gaze at us, and say nothing. It seems almost -a reproval. We take up our moorings amongst other -small ships which have come with troops from the Peninsula, -and after a brief delay are transferred with baggage to the -<i>Southland</i>. Ah! this means sailing for Egypt, probably. -Egypt! It will be like sailing home. The <i>Southland</i> was -the boat which was torpedoed early in September. I go -and look at the damage that was done. A great hole was -torn in one of her holds, and it was lucky that she was -able to reach Lemnos, fifty miles away from the spot where -she was hit.</p> - -<p>We learn that the 86th have passed to Helles, and soon -we are to follow. Good Lord! This is the unkindest cut -of all. So we are not done with it yet. Well, I don’t -suppose the Turks will let us get off scot-free this time. -I draw food for the men on board, and at 7.30 p.m. go down -to dinner. The last time that I dined in this saloon was -in those days in April, just before the original landing. -The officers of the K.O.S.B.’s were dining here then, and -their bagpipes played them in to dinner, many for the last -time in their lives. We have a merry dinner-party with -champagne. After, I enjoy the luxury of a hot bath and -then turn in.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 19th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is topping being on board a nice ship again and back -once more to civilization. I row round with the skipper -in the morning to one or two ships in harbour, and after -lunch go over in a pinnace with some officers to the shore, -calling on the <i>Aragon</i> on the way, where General de Lisle -and Colonel O’Hara join us. Firth, O’Hara, and I, on -reaching the land, walk up to a village inshore and buy -eggs. It is delightful being able to stretch one’s legs without -having to carry one’s ears at the “right engage” in -expectancy of the whistle of the enemy shell. We have -great fun purchasing eggs from old Greek ladies—six from -one, twelve from another, and so on. When loaded up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span> -with them we get back to the pier, on to a waiting pinnace, -and so out to the <i>Aragon</i>, where O’Hara entertains us to -tea. We learn that we are not to be on the Peninsula -long—only a matter of three weeks—and then we and the -R.N.D. will be relieved and taken to Egypt. And so the -sooner we are back there, to get it over, the better. We -get back to the <i>Southland</i> and have a cheery dinner, which -we make the most of. To-night is “Z” night, and as we -sit talking after dinner we wonder how the work is proceeding. -Last night everything went satisfactorily—no shelling—and -news this morning shows the Turks have spotted no -change.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 20th.</i></h3> - -<p>Suvla is Turkish once more. All troops left without a -casualty. The evacuation proceeded all day yesterday. -The scenes on the beaches appeared as normal as ever. -At nightfall all stores that had been intended to be evacuated -had been safely shipped. All that were left were the -skeleton stacks of supplies, waiting to be set alight, useless -ordnance, and the supply of emergency ammunition. The -beaches were shelled as usual in the day. Night fell, and -those left on the beaches, except the Evacuation Staff, -were hastened on to the waiting ships. At dusk a few -Monitors and destroyers quietly slipped into the Bay, -standing by in readiness for a Turkish attack.</p> - -<p>The ration carts that were left were promptly shipped, not -a mule being left—in fact, every hoof was safely embarked. -Then began the last stage. In succeeding waves the remaining -troops fell back in perfect order to the forming-up -posts. In a steady stream they were hastened off on to -the waiting ships, until at last the supreme moment arrived. -The message was telephoned to the line that all troops -behind those few men who were waiting a few yards from -the unsuspecting Turk had left Suvla for good and all. -Here and there a man fired his rifle as a farewell salute -to our gallant enemy, but no man was permitted to fire -without an order. With their boots wrapped in sand-bags -they crept back, down the communication trenches, out -on to the roads, past the first gate, which was immediately<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span> -locked, the news of their passing being telephoned to the -beaches. Past the second likewise, then the third, and -then straight to the beaches; finally on board, and hurried -off with great dispatch when the Evacuation Staff knew -from their statistics that Suvla Bay was free of every -Britisher but themselves. Hastily A.S.C. officers run round -the frameworks of the Supply stacks in the depot with -lighted torches, and quickly the supplies are ablaze. Then -a rush is made to the waiting pinnaces, which merrily puff -out to the battleships. Meanwhile the officers detailed to -wait at the casualty clearing station are picked up by -pinnaces, for no rearguard action has been necessary: the -Turk was lying ignorant of it all in his trenches, crack-crack-cracking -his rifle. If he had only known! At last -not a living Britisher was left on Suvla or Anzac; every -dugout, nook, and cranny was searched, and it was with -great interest that the Evacuation Staff viewed the scene -from the battleships as daylight broke. The fires burnt -fiercely and quickly; Turkish shells came over as if to -hasten the destruction of the fire. Complete success had -been the reward of the excellent work of the Staff.</p> - -<p>Still the Turk did not know that we had left. He saw -the tents of our hospitals standing, but the deserted appearance -of the beaches must have made him wonder. The -morning wore on. Puzzled, a few venturesome Turks -peeped over the parapets of the trenches. Nothing happened. -They climbed over the top, walked over No-man’s-land -into the deserted trenches, and the secret was discovered. -We had evacuated—lock, stock, and barrel—under -their very noses. Down the roads they came in small -parties. A few muffled noises were heard, by which the -watchers of this strange drama from the battleships knew -that the bombs that we had laid cunningly were claiming -victims, fighting our battles for us without our being on -the field. And so they came to Lala Baba, and some -German officers, with a characteristic insult to their -brave ally, hoisted the German flag as a token of a -German “victory,” though the honours of the day were -with the Turk. He, however, had won not by beating us, -but by our being beaten by Nature—the impregnable fastnesses<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span> -of the mountains of Suvla Bay and the Gallipoli -winter storms. How a Turk could allow a German flag -to be hoisted is beyond comprehension. One day Germany -will fall shamefully to the dust in the eyes of her Oriental -ally, and Turkey must beware of that day, on which she -can expect no mercy.</p> - -<p>The last crowded ships arrive at Mudros Harbour. The -shore becomes thronged with Australian troops, who, more -fortunate than ourselves, are bound for Egypt, while we, -after lunch, embark on the <i>Partridge</i>, and sail off with -our General once more for the Peninsula. It is a chilling, -depressing voyage to Helles, a journey made by me now -for the third time. I hope it will be my luck to make it -yet a fourth time, for that will be after the war. We have -a meal off rations that we have brought with us. The boat -is crowded with troops, and they do not seem very cheery. -Night falls. At eight o’clock we see in the distance the -starlights sailing up and down inland, on the Peninsula, -though it is hard to discern the outline of the shore. Soon -the lights of a hospital ship are discernible ahead. Suddenly, -two flashes are seen, one after the other, from the Asiatic -side; two booms of guns are heard, about fifteen seconds -after, followed by two piercing shrieks, and the shells -burst with a bright flash of flame on “W” Beach. And -so we are in it once more. Shortly after, we see the dim -outline of the shore. We heave to and anchor off “V” -Beach. After a wait of half an hour, lighters come alongside, -on which we get and are towed to a pier running out -from “V” Beach, which now, in addition to being protected -from the strong currents of the Dardanelles by the <i>River -Clyde</i>, is protected from the outer sea by a sunken French -battleship, the <i>Massena</i>. In consequence, the water inside -the pier is like a millpond, while outside a heavy swell -washes against the sides of the two ships. I am on “V” -Beach once more. It does not seem to have altered much -since I left on August 20th last, but appears perhaps more -orderly than it was then. More light railways are about.</p> - -<p>Foley is there to meet us, and it is good to see him safe -and well. Up to a fortnight ago, he tells me, it was very -quiet on the Peninsula—in fact, they have been playing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span> -football matches in the aerodrome, and on shore, in a -large dugout, the band of the R.N.D. have been giving -concerts. But lately two guns from Asia have been throwing -over at odd intervals of the day 8-inch Naval shells, -and life on the beaches is becoming jumpy again. Also -some new guns have been placed in position on the slopes -of Achi Baba, which have been worrying the rest camps -further inland. He tells me that the Turkish ammunition -had improved in quality. This was what we had found -at Suvla, due to Bulgaria’s entry into the war as our enemies -and the opening of the road from Germany to Constantinople. -The war will not end before this road is cut by -the Allies. We shall never succeed now in forcing the -Straits, and so this road will never be cut in this manner. -We must, however, hang on to this end of the Peninsula, -and I pity the troops who will be detailed for duty to do -so through this winter. It will not be the 29th, for shortly -we shall again be leaving, and this time for good. Three -weeks, I think. Three weeks only on “W” Beach, the -bull’s-eye of a target. <i>C’est la guerre!</i> As we march up -on to the Helles Plateau we notice fires burning in the -distance up the coast of Suvla—the Suvla Supply depot -and other stacks still burning.</p> - -<p>On arrival on the high ground on the left of “W” -Beach looking inland, I turn into the same dugout which -used to be our home in the early days of this “round in -circles” campaign. Matthews is there to welcome me, and -a new officer named Harris. As I turn in, I think of our -old dugout at Suvla, now occupied in all probability by -sleeping Turks. How strange! During the night I am -awakened at intervals by loud explosions. Only Asia -firing on “W” Beach at intervals. One bursts on the -slopes of our cliff, and large lumps of earth fall on our -tarpaulin roof.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 21st.</i></h3> - -<p>I am awakened by a few shells bursting on the beach. -After breakfast I meet our new C.O., Colonel Huskisson. -I dined with him in Ritchie’s dugout in May last, when -he was O.C. Main Supply depot. I learn that the beaches<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span> -get shelled now heavier than they were ever shelled before. -During the morning I walk inland with Bell along the -light railway system, which runs from the beaches and -branches in several directions over the Helles Plateau, for -a distance of about a mile. Mules pull small trucks up -from the beach to the high ground behind the beach, where -the mules are unhitched and the trucks, with their own -momentum, run down the plateau, which is on a gentle -slope. Bell’s idea is to have a Supply depot at the end -of the railway on the plateau, and to issue from there to -Horse Transport, which will come up one wagon at a time. -Should transport collect in any spot on this plateau it -immediately draws shell fire. I am struck by the way -transport goes about in daylight and under observation -from the enemy, certainly not in long convoys, but in single -wagons or two or three together. Achi Baba looks more -formidable than ever, and bleaker. In fact, the whole tip -of the Peninsula looks far more cheerless than when I was -here last.</p> - -<p>A strong southerly wind is blowing this morning. This -afternoon we have rain, and as night falls our “rest trenches” -are sloughs of mud, for hardly any work appears to have -been done on a system of drainage and the men have no -roofing whatever. In fact, at Helles corrugated iron is -practically nil, although at Suvla we did have a small -supply. Do they honestly believe that they can hang on -this tiny tip of land during the winter?</p> - -<p>Just beyond the end of the railway, the ground is thickly -lined with camps, consisting of rest trenches. These now -lead right up to the system of deep trenches forming our -front line. Behind where I am standing at the end of the -railway, at a distance of three hundred yards, there stands -a very large hospital of tents and huts. This could be -destroyed utterly by Turkish shell fire in half an hour, -yet it stands untouched. No large bodies of troops or -transport are allowed to collect or pass near, of course, -but small parties of two or three may pass by. D.H.Q. -is about two hundred yards behind, dug in, in trenches. -On their left is the West Coast road, overlooking the sea. -The 87th are in the line, and a part of the 86th, the remainder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span> -being in rest camp trenches. The 88th have of course not -yet arrived. Our artillery are practically in the same -positions that they were six months ago.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 22nd.</i></h3> - -<p>It is quite calm now and a fine day; thus we are given -an opportunity of digging the mud out of the trenches -and to work on a system of drainage. But we want roofing -badly. Unlike “V” Beach, now a perfect harbour, safe -against almost any sea, “W” Beach at the first heavy -swell becomes impossible for landing any supplies. Engineers -are busy as usual on the piers, not on construction, -but on the work of repairing the damage done by each -spell of rough sea. The storm that we experienced at -Suvla did not spend its fury on Helles, though they felt -the outskirts of its force here—so much so that the flimsy -piers off “W” Beach were almost washed away, and for -the time we depended on the courtesy of our French Allies -to land stores and supplies on “V” Beach. No. 1 Pier -here, however, is fairly safe, for we have two small ships -sunk at the end, set at an angle, forming a breakwater; -but they are too small to make the harbour as secure as -the one at “V” Beach. We should have sunk ships six -times as large. All along the shore off “W” Beach lighters -lie three deep, washed up by past spells of rough weather.</p> - -<p>The scheme of having our divisional Supply dump inland -has fallen through, as it is too near D.H.Q. and would be -sure to draw shell fire, which is becoming more and more -frequent and effective. We draw at dusk from Main Supply -depot, and at night issue from our divisional dump in an -unsafe spot on the far side of the back of “W” Beach, -having to be careful not to show too many lights. Asia -keeps us on the <i>qui vive</i> all day, and too much activity on -the beach will always draw a spell of shelling. A cloudy -evening. At 11 p.m. the 88th Brigade arrive.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 23rd.</i></h3> - -<p>It is a fine, cold day. We now walk about on the beach -with our ears always listening for the sound of a gun from -Asia or Achi Baba, upon hearing which we get ready to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span> -fling ourselves to the ground or dive into a dugout. I go -along to the H.Q. of the 86th and 88th Brigades, both -built in the side of a cliff just this side of “X” Beach -and almost opposite our D.H.Q. Their dugouts are delightfully -cosy little houses; they are practically safe from shell -fire and form a great contrast to Divisional H.Q., dug a little -way to the right in trenches which are in full view of the -enemy and in danger of a shell dropping plumb on to them -at any moment.</p> - -<p>The day drags wearily away. There is nothing much -to do but bookwork, making up accounts, and visits to -the Main Supply depot. It is an extraordinary thing, but -almost every time I stroll over to the Supply depot from -our office on the cliff, over comes a shell either from a -howitzer on Achi or “Quick Dick” from Asia. I prefer -the howitzer. It gives you a chance to quickly look round -for the nearest dugout and dive in. Whereas “Quick -Dick,” with its boom-whizz-bang, is on you before you can -count two, and leaves you almost gasping, wondering that -you are still standing alive instead of flying through the -air in little bits. Each day victims are claimed. I thought -my Q.M.S. had “got it proper” to-day, but I saw him -do a marvellous head-dive behind a mound, protecting -dug-in stables, which saved him. It makes everybody -living on the beach very bad-tempered. At night they -drop them over at intervals. But we are one too many -for Asia by night. One can distinctly see the flash of the -gun and can count twenty-three slowly before the shell -arrives. The French are very clever over dodging these -night shells from Asia. A man perched up on a stack of -hay watches Asia intently. He sees a flash, blows loudly -on a trumpet, and everybody gets to cover like rabbits. -Result: remarkably few casualties. Of course, the flash -of the gun does not tell whether the shell is addressed to -“V” Beach or “W” Beach, and one cannot fail to at -times be amused, in spite of the grimness of it all, for the -lookout man on “V” Beach might see the flash and give -a mighty blast on his trumpet, whereupon all rush for -cover, and twenty-three seconds later the shell swishes over, -not to “V” Beach at all, but to “W” Beach. The Turkish<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span> -gunners appear to have their tails very much up, no doubt -through the evacuation of Suvla and Anzac. And enemy -airmen are very daring, swooping right over our lines and -at times dropping an odd bomb or two. Men and transport -move about as freely as ever, though, which is such a contrast -to Suvla; though, of course, our line being further -inland than it was at Suvla, the enemy have difficulty in -reaching the transport with shrapnel. If not, probably -our transport would not be so reckless. The roads at the -foot of the cliff can no longer be used, having been made -impassable by being washed right away in parts.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 24th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is delightful weather and we continue our life, preparing -the figures and accounts to draw the rations at night, and -arranging for their issue. Usual shelling all day. In the -afternoon, as I walk across the plateau to D.H.Q., an enemy -aeroplane comes swooping over. I am near a party of -men marching and hear the pop-pop of a machine gun. -Almost immediately after, I hear the swish of bullets and -see them kick up the dust round about. At first I can’t -make it out. Then it dawns on me that the daring aviator -is actually firing on the troops near me. I notice that -instead of having a cross painted on his machine he has a -square, which is the sign of the Bulgarian Flying Corps.</p> - -<p>I go back to tea with Farquhar in his lines, dug in trenches -on the cliff-side over Corps H.Q., situated further round -the cliff from our dugouts. As we are at tea, four enemy -machines sweep over to “W” Beach, and shortly after I -hear the sound of dropping bombs as they circle round -and round. Our anti-aircraft guns (not plentiful) endeavour -to bring them down, but they circle round unconcerned, -and having discharged about thirty bombs, swing round -and make back for their lines, keeping out to sea off the -coast.</p> - -<p>I get back to the beach and find that their bombs have -caused many casualties. To my great sorrow I learn that -Cox, of the Essex, has been hit clean with one, and also a -friend of the same regiment, both being killed instantly. -They had come down from the rest camp to purchase<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span> -some luxuries for the canteen for Christmas Day. After -sticking it all this time to be killed like this, just two weeks -before the time when the Division is to be relieved for -good, is really far worse luck than met Algy Wood, of the -same regiment. And now there are no more of the original -Essex officers left.</p> - -<p>It has been rough to-day, especially at Imbros, which -has a very exposed harbour, and in consequence it has been -possible to issue only a very small percentage of fresh meat. -It is bad luck, for to-morrow is Christmas Day, and I should -like to have given the Division a full issue of fresh meat. -However, a consignment of Christmas puddings has arrived -from Lady Hamilton’s Fund and will be issued. We were -promised many other luxuries, such as oranges and other -fruits, but these have not arrived, owing to the difficulty -of transport by sea. And so, for the majority of the men -of the Division and all troops inshore, bully beef will take -the place of the customary roast beef and turkey.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 25th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is very beautiful weather. We do the best we can -for the troops in the way of supplies, but it has to be bully -beef and Christmas puddings for their dinners. The Turks -are unusually quiet. I believe they know that it is our -Christmas Day. We have a Christmas dinner in our dugout -and a very cheery time. One of the cheeriest Christmas -dinners I have ever had. Parcels from home pooled helped -to make a good spread, and one can make excellent rissoles -from bully beef.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 26th, 27th, 28th, and 29th.</i></h3> - -<p>Visits to Brigade and to D.H.Q. and journeys to and from -our dugout office and Main Supply depot are the order of -the day. Usual shelling, far more trying than any we have -ever experienced before. Enemy aeroplanes now and again -try to come over, but are driven back by our planes. Cold -but fine.</p> - -<p>We have to send in an estimate of transport required to -cart baggage back from battalions to beaches. This no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span> -doubt means we are off shortly. I hope so, as I am getting -fed-up with this Diary. But it seems strange to be making -plans to get off again, when we have only just arrived back.</p> - - -<h3><i>December 30th.</i></h3> - -<p>To-day we hear the news secretly that we are evacuating -Helles altogether. They are having a conference at Corps -H.Q. this morning on the plans. I am sent for by the -Engineer officer in charge of works on the beach, and he -questions me closely on the plans that were followed at -the last evacuation. But I can tell him little or nothing -beyond what I personally observed. I am afraid that we -shall not be able to get away supplies and stores so easily -as we were able to at Suvla, and quantities will have to -be left. For the beaches are under close observation from -Yen-i-Shehr and Kum Kale, and now that we have already -hoodwinked them once, the second evacuation will have -to be done very carefully. Therefore our only chance of -getting away stores is by night, and animals, guns, and -personnel must come first. The first thing, therefore, is to -get up forward supplies in sufficient quantities to last out -the remaining days, and I receive orders to get these -up for the 87th and 88th Brigades, for again we are to -be last off.</p> - -<p>I expected this second evacuation. Nearly everybody -expected it. We have been told that IX Corps would -relieve VIII Corps, but to those of us who experienced the -Suvla storm, the idea of hanging on here after Suvla and -Anzac had been evacuated was impossible to consider. But -this evacuation we think will be a very different matter, -with the Turks expecting us to endeavour to make it. -Transport will be the difficulty during these last few days, -but fortunately the tramway comes in handy to-night in -getting up rations to the 86th and 88th Brigades, and we -manage successfully. We draw the rations from the Main -Supply depot in bulk, apportion them out to units, and -load them on the trucks on the line in the centre of the -depot itself. Mules then pull them to the slope, down -which they run of their own accord to the plateau with -men acting as brakesmen. Those trucks which have to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span> -pulled further inland are pulled by mules up a line which -runs still nearer to the trenches. The rations are off-loaded -on arrival at their destination, and man-handled over their -remaining journey. By this means much more horse transport -is cut out, which can in a few days be evacuated. -But before then this transport must be used solely in -getting back surplus kit. We put up the first batch of -the reserve supplies.</p> - -<p>An arduous night, and we get to bed in the small -hours of the morning. All day we had intervals of -howitzers from Achi and Asia’s shells. Not much longer -now, thank God!</p> - - -<h3><i>December 31st.</i></h3> - -<p class="b2">The last day of a damnable year. Honours in favour -of the enemy. Luck all against us. But our turn will -come before another year is out. In the morning the Turks -heavily shell our front line reserve areas; and D.H.Q., of -course, being only just in rear, get it badly. All day the -beaches suffer. Life on the beaches is like a game of musical -chairs. Instead of sitting down on a chair when the music -stops, you promptly fling yourself behind cover when a -shell arrives. I am a perfect tumbler now, and after the -war will give exhibitions of the many different antics that -one performs when dodging shells. A New Year’s dinner, -as cheery as the Christmas dinner, but broken by visits -to the Main Supply depot to send off the rations by tram, -and then to bed.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="JANUARY_1916">JANUARY 1916</h2> - - -<h3><i>January 1st.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">To-day</span> is New Year’s Day. At this time last year this -Peninsula was as peaceful a part of the world as one could -find in any neutral country, though its rulers were allies -of our chief enemies. To-day, a year after, we are nearing -the fall of the curtain on the final act of one of the -greatest tragedies of history. The curtain of the first act -was rung up on a scene beautiful and romantic in its -setting eight months ago, which changed, as the play -developed, to scenes of gallant endeavour and Death in -all his nakedness. The final act, the tragic last scene of -defeat without disgrace, is full of sadness, and the great -audience, although held spellbound watching and waiting, -will be full of relief when the curtain drops for good.</p> - -<p>It is strange to think, as I walk about once more on -“W” Beach, that Suvla and Anzac no longer harbour -British ships or house British troops, and that Turks now -walk about unmolested in our late trenches and shelter -themselves at night in our late dugouts. In a few days -now Turks will be sitting in the place in which I am writing -these notes. They are welcome, for our attempts to open -their gates have failed. We have lost the game, but we -have not been beaten by the Turks. They are no match -for our troops. We have been beaten by Nature, or the -geographical fastnesses of this impregnable Peninsula and -the storms of winter. The new year is heralded in on -“W” Beach by the shells of a big howitzer on the left -shoulder of Achi Baba bursting with a deafening crash -on the high ground of the beach, throwing large jagged -splinters within a radius of two hundred yards. When -such a shell bursts, all within that radius drop flat to earth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span> -or dive into a dugout. I am sure that people living further -inland or in the trenches, if they have not lived on the -beach, do not realize the great strain on the nerves that -work under steady, effective shell fire is on this beach, -cooped up as we are in such a small space, which is all -a target, not to say the chief target, of the Turkish gunners.</p> - -<p>The 29th A.S.C. men are sticking it well. I think they -guess that we are evacuating, and are therefore cheery. -Issuing by day, as in the early days, is now out of the -question. We issue at dusk, and even then in danger of -a shell in our depot. But the A.S.C., or the “Army Safety -Corps” as it is termed by many in France, must never -cease doing its job, for a man in the front line is hungry -three times a day. As S.S.O., my job now is to see that -the four Supply Officers’ indents are satisfied in full, -namely the Supply Officers of the 86th, 87th, 88th Brigades -and the Divisional Artillery. I must get the food ready at -our depot for the night’s issue for each group, out of which -the four S.O.’s must see that their troops and animals get -their full ration. Their respective jobs are far more trying -than is mine now, for the difficulties of getting the supplies -from the beach to the troops have increased a hundredfold.</p> - -<p>The Main Supply depot is still in the same spot as in -the days of May, and there they must see that my indents -are satisfied. Now they are drawing on their reserve, and, -as in the case of the evacuation of Suvla, they are issuing -from the inside of the large stacks of supplies, for to the -Turk these stacks must not appear to grow smaller. The -outside walls must be kept standing, and when the time -comes the depot officers will set them ablaze with hay -and petrol, and long before the Turk can reach the beaches -they should be raging furnaces. The Main Supply depot -office is still in the same place as of old, built out of supply -boxes. Several times it has been blown down by a Turkish -shell, and why it has not been shifted I cannot think. -More shells are bursting daily round this depot during -these days than burst in a week of June on the whole of -“W” Beach. If the Turks then had had half the artillery -that they have now, I do not think that we would -be here to-day. Smart, the depot Supply Officer, who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span> -was wounded in August and who is now back sitting in -the same old place, holds up his ruler to me this morning, -the same ruler which was the stakes of the bet I had with -him in the early days, that Achi Baba would be taken -by June 30th, and says with a smile, “This ruler is still -mine, and Achi Baba still belongs to Turkey.” Outside, -Achi Baba looks more forbidding than ever, like the head -of a huge vulture waiting to spring.</p> - -<p>Howitzer shells are dropping along the road, and as I -want to go up to 86th and 88th Brigade H.Q. with Horne, -we go along the cliff’s edge by the Greek camp, still in the -same place. The two Brigade H.Q. are in a delightful -spot, dug in on the side of the cliff just this side of “X” -Beach. I have a chat with General Williams and Sinclair -Thompson. I enjoy going there. It is absolutely off the -target, though, as things are now, one would think that -there could be no spot on this tiny tip of land where one -could live at all for long. Back for lunch. At three -o’clock we are shelled badly in our quarter by howitzers -from the hill and by Asia’s “Quick Dick,” which is on -you before one can duck almost.</p> - -<p>General Birdwood has been here and had a look round. -As before mentioned, the 29th are to be last. It is rather -a lot to ask of the 86th and 88th after that storm and -the strain of one evacuation, but it shows G.H.Q. put a -great value on us. Up to midnight I am at the Main -Supply depot drawing the remainder of reserve supplies -for six days for the Division, which are being put up in -Leith Walk and Clapham Junction respectively for the -87th and 88th Brigades. As in the case of the evacuation -at Suvla, the 86th Brigade leave shortly. Officers and -men on “W” Beach are falling sick fast, with the continual -strain of shelling, and in view of the evacuation are being -sent off at once. There are one or two cases of men losing -their reason.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 2nd.</i></h3> - -<p>The sea was very rough last night, and in consequence -the evacuation was very much delayed. We are now -being subjected to very severe shelling. From three<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[313]</span> -o’clock yesterday to nine o’clock this morning three howitzers, -two from behind Krithia and one on the right -shoulder of Achi, have been throwing big high explosive -shells over to us on the beaches steadily. This is the -severest spell on record, and it is evident that they are -expecting us to go soon and are making it as hard as -possible. Afterwards we were shelled in jerks to midday. -At seven o’clock to-night Horne and I go up to Krithia -Nullah or Clapham Junction. It is very dark, and the -road is pockmarked with shell-holes. I miss the familiar -landmark of the white pillars. I remember now that they -told me while I was at Suvla that they had been demolished -by our Engineers. We have a forward reserve dump at -Clapham Junction, which we start eating into to-morrow. -88th Brigade H.Q. is just near by, dug-in in trenches, and -on calling there we are invited to dinner. We have a -Christmas pudding, which is brought in alight with brandy. -It seems strange following this old custom in a dugout, -with bullets zipping over outside and within eight hundred -yards of the Turks.</p> - -<p>Coming out of the dugout on to the road, I notice bullets -flying about much freer than usual, the Turks being more -energetic over their practice of firing their rifles at night -than they ever were before. All the time, as we walk -back, we hear the Turkish howitzers sending over their -consignment of high explosives to “W” Beach. After -ten minutes’ walk we hear a shell coming bang at us, firing -at a battery close by; but it is a small dud, and it goes -“fut” into the ground. As we approach nearer and -nearer to “W” Beach we hear their “hows” whining -away overhead. They sound so harmless, and seem to -take quite a time sailing through the air, but the sound -of them crashing on the beach rather inclines us to slacken -our pace. On approaching the Main Supply depot, however, -we quicken our pace, and passing through it, arrive -at the wood-stacks, when we hear one of their whiners -sailing over. Quickly we duck behind the wood as it bursts -short of the Supply depot. We get up and walk briskly -to our dugout, and just as we descend the steps on the -cliff-side we hear another. We dive into Hyslop’s dugout<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[314]</span> -precipitously as it bursts with a crash forty yards behind -us. Afterwards a pinnace alongside No. 1 Pier is afire, set -ablaze by a direct hit from a shell. Bed, and we go to -sleep hearing the shells explode in various parts of the -beach at short intervals. Fortunately these shells do not -reach the water’s edge and cannot impede the final stage -of the evacuation. It is only Asia that upsets this.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 3rd.</i></h3> - -<p>Some of the staff of the Main Supply depot have now -left. Last night some animals, including the A.T. cart-mules, -were evacuated. They are led, coaxed, and whipped -on to the lighters from the piers. The lighters are then -towed out to the waiting ships, which have come in under -the cover of darkness, and the animals are slung on board. -It is strenuous work for those detailed for the job, especially -with a heavy swell. The personnel are sent off from “V” -Beach, and they do not waste time hanging about the -open spaces of the beach, but make for the cover of the -<i>River Clyde</i> and the fort as soon as possible. The man -with the trumpet is kept busy giving warning against -Asia’s shells. Weakly men are being hurried off. Surplus -kit, office records, also. Forward reserves of ammunition -are being placed in the Eski Lines, which run across the -Peninsula, and each man and machine gun has a reserve -of small ammunition. Also a reserve is kept on the beaches. -On the last day our Division will have about three thousand -men left. We start eating into our seven days’ forward -reserves to-day. The Egyptian shepherds, who provided -meat for the Drabis of the Mule Corps, with their sheep, -have left to-day. The casualties from shell fire are becoming -more and more frequent on the beaches now. The 86th -Brigade leave to-night, and the balance of those men who -were prevented from getting off by the rough sea of last -night. In fact, many men had to leave by daylight this -morning, risking the Turks’ observation. The French try -a very clever ruse by lighting a stack of hay, which, -smouldering only, causes heavy columns of smoke to drift -over Sed-el-Bahr and away out over the Straits, which enables -them to ship quite a lot of animals under its screen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[315]</span> -in broad daylight. Enemy aeroplanes are busy trying to -get over to the beaches all day, but are successfully kept -at bay by our anti-aircraft guns and aeroplane patrols. -A strong wind is blowing from the north-east, and it looks -like a change in the weather, causing anxiety to us all. -As usual, all to-day and continuing to-night, the beaches -and their approaches have been heavily shelled. Our -Monitors have been energetically replying.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 4th.</i></h3> - -<p>This morning we have intermittent shelling, in twos -and threes and in fits and starts. Just before lunch, while -standing at the door of our dugout on the top of the cliff, -I see a destroyer come right in shore, and swinging round -quickly, she anchors. I see a group of Naval and Military -officers on deck, who climb down the companion into a -pinnace, which takes them to No. 1 Pier. I turn my -glasses on to them and see that the party consists of General -Birdwood, the Army Commander, an Admiral, two Naval -and two Army officers. They slowly walk along the pier, -and I cannot help feeling anxious for them, for Asia has -put one of her beauties close to No. 1 Pier a short while -before. They turn to the left and walk along the road -at the foot of the cliffs. Just as they are passing immediately -beneath our “bivvy,” two howitzer shells burst -with a deafening report on the beach. General Birdwood -never turns his head, but I notice that the two other officers -following behind look anxiously over their shoulders. They -go up to VIII Corps H.Q., and after lunch a conference -is held. Afterwards General Birdwood sends over to the -Mule-cart Corps on the high ground between “W” and -“V” Beach for an old Native officer whom he has known -for many years in India. He is a fine old man, and a -splendid type of the loyal Native soldier. Of course, he -was overcome with delight at meeting the General once -more, who told him to assure all the Native drivers and -their N.C.O.’s with the Mule Corps that our evacuation -was a strategical move, made for the best, and not in any -way to be interpreted as a disaster. The Native mind -is so different from our own, and though they are as loyal<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[316]</span> -as any of our troops, one feels anxious to prevent them -from losing their confidence.</p> - -<p>As a result of the conference, the progress of the stages -of the evacuation must be speeded up. Personnel and -animals must at all costs be dealt with first, and as the -sands are running low, it will now be necessary to begin -evacuating animals by day and risk the shelling. This -morning the sea has been dead calm and perfect for our -purpose, but the Navy say that they expect a southerly -gale. We, of course, dread a southerly gale. It is a very -trying and anxious time, and the shelling is now almost -continuous. Certainly only a few guns are turned on to -the beaches, but sufficient to upset and impede our work. -Six shells may come over from the howitzers on Achi at -ten, three from Asia at eleven, four from Achi at 11.30, -then from twelve to one probably twenty from Achi and -Asia, all on to the camps and depots in the confined space -of “W” Beach. All the while casualties occur. As a -contrast, the evacuations of Suvla and Anzac were child’s -play to that of Helles. The Monitors are busily replying, -and I think cause their guns to stop now and again. All -the afternoon the beach gets shelled. Asia now and again -puts some very nasty ones near our bivouac, and once -we all had to take cover in two tunnels in the side of the -cliff to our left, where they have been quarrying for stone. -At 8 p.m. a gale springs up and the embarkation is greatly -hampered. They found it impossible to embark the mules -on the transport when the lighters arrived alongside. One -lighter, loaded with mules, carts, and drivers, breaks away -and quickly goes drifting out to sea towards Asia, becoming -lost in the darkness of the night. All night we get shelled -every quarter of an hour.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 5th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is very windy and the sea rough, yet the evacuation -of animals proceeds by day as well as by night, regardless -of whether we are seen or not. But a large number of -animals will, I am afraid, have to be left, and in consequence -be killed on the last day. I do not know which -day “Z” day is, but I hear that it has been postponed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[317]</span> -in consequence of the rough sea. The shelling is as bad -as ever on the beaches. Now, in addition to guns on Achi -and on the Asiatic side opposite Morto Bay, a four-gun -Turkish battery comes into position by Kum Kale and -manages to reach the water’s edge of “W” Beach and -“V” Beach with shrapnel, but a Monitor, quickly getting -on to it, very soon silences it. No enemy gun can ever be -in position on this point for long.</p> - -<p>Asia gives us a bad time in the afternoon and puts some -nasty ones near our bivouac, and again we have to take -refuge in the tunnel. Monitors are busy bombarding -Achi, and a cruiser with an aeroplane up spotting for her -is hard at work trying to find the Asiatic gun. Enemy -aeroplanes as usual make persevering endeavours to come -over “W” Beach, but each time are driven off by our -airmen. Our anti-aircraft guns never hit anything. The -enemy aircraft now try to fly over “W” Beach by -approaching it from the sea, and many an exciting chase -and duel is daily witnessed between our planes and theirs, -ours always holding mastery of the air.</p> - -<p>The sea is getting calmer, and at night an odd shell -comes over at intervals of half an hour or so. The lighter -loaded with the mules and their drivers which broke adrift -yesterday owing to the rough sea drifted fortunately on to -Rabbit Islands, and her freight was picked up by a Monitor.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 6th.</i></h3> - -<p>A lovely calm morning. The shelling has quietened -down considerably. I think the Monitors have been -frightening the Turkish gunners somewhat. Also Asia is -not worrying us, thank God! and yesterday’s bombardment -from the cruiser has probably done a lot of good. The -sea is like glass, and the conditions are perfect for evacuation. -The same policy is being followed in getting the -last troops off on “Z” night as was followed at Suvla, -but quantities of material, ordnance, and R.E. stores -will have to be left. The reserve ammunition in the -keeps on the beaches on the last night will be blown -up just before we leave.</p> - -<p>Enemy aeroplanes are over in the morning, showing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[318]</span> -great daring and keeping our airmen very busy. The -beaches are crowded with mules, wagons, and fatigue -parties hard at work at loading the lighters. There is no -attempt at concealing what we are doing. But the Turk -does not know which night is our last, and if we can -manage to keep him in ignorance, then we can get off the -last night without a rearguard action being fought, for -John Turk does not like leaping over the top. Our Monitors, -destroyers, and two cruisers keep the Turkish artillery -much quieter than they were a few days ago, though at -intervals they give us a very bad time on the beaches. A -large number of personnel go off, including the 29th Division -Train with all their animals. Only myself, the Adjutant, -and one or two other officers and a handful of men are -left to stand by in case the last day is delayed and troops -require food.</p> - -<p>At present, all on shore are rationed up to next Tuesday -night. All the Greeks have left.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 7th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is another beautiful morning, and the wind is in the -north-east. We had some rain in the night, and in consequence -the ground is rather muddy. All transport is now -under the control of the VIII Corps Transport Depot. The -shooting of those animals which it will not be possible to -get off to-night will be begun and finished off to-morrow, -and all vehicles left will be destroyed. This morning I -walk up with Hyslop to D.H.Q. As we pass the Stationary -Hospital we see a cluster of mules wandering about, grazing -on the scanty grass that is still growing in odd patches -on the plateau. We hear the whistle of a shell, which -proves a very small one and a dud, and which falls in the -middle of them with a “fut.” They jump about a bit, -and then calmly go on smelling for grass. Soon after -another follows, also a dud. Evidently the Turkish gunner -who has fired is a sportsman, and has made a bet with -another that he will get a bull’s-eye first shot. Soon after -we hear the whine overhead of the howitzer shells, travelling -seemingly to “W” Beach, fired in grim earnest and not -as a sporting shot, like the two duds at the mules.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[319]</span></p> - -<p>Looking at the gunnery from the Turkish gunners’ point -of view, it must have been all through this campaign a sort -of series of field days for them, with their guns in position -on commanding heights, and with the targets nearly always -open sights and on the low lands. It is fortunate for us -that only lately they have been receiving regular supplies -of good ammunition. If they had had the artillery that -the Germans had before Ypres, twenty-four hours on any -single day throughout the eight months that we have been -here would have turned the campaign in favour of Turkey, -and meant utter defeat and unconditional surrender for -us. As we are therefore at the end of it all, and shall soon -once more hand back to Turkey the remaining insignificant -few acres of ground that we had captured and held after -so much gallantry, endurance, and bloodshed, we must -be thankful and congratulate ourselves that we are -disentangled from the quagmire with our Army intact. -I may have spoken too soon, but if we are as fortunate -as we were at Suvla, we can disappear in a night, although -the enemy knows we are going. We expect him to attack -shortly to test our strength. If we hold him and inflict -losses on him, that will keep him quiet for a day or so; -during these days we have our great chance to evacuate -without loss, and with our Army intact.</p> - -<p>We get very heavily shelled in the afternoon, several -from Asia bursting within a few yards of our office and -one actually at the mouth of the tunnel, which was crowded -with men taking cover. While this is going on the enemy -make a concentrated bombardment on a part of our front -line held by the 13th Division and a part of the 87th Brigade. -It lasted continuously from 3.30 p.m. to 5.30 p.m., and -caused about a hundred and fifty casualties. At the end -they made half-hearted attempts to leave their trenches -to attack ours, but the few small parties that had the -bravery to get out into No-man’s-land were stopped dead -by our machine-gun fire, and the show petered out. Now, -therefore, is our chance, either to-night or to-morrow. -This afternoon’s attack was probably made to test our -strength, and as they suffered as much as we did, if not -more, they will pause awhile before attacking again.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[320]</span></p> - -<p>After this attack finished, the shelling on the beaches -almost entirely ceased, and when night fell I was able in -peace to start a job which proved very tedious, namely -of putting up rations, ammunition, and water in petrol-cans -into a dugout on “W” Beach, where it would be -useful in case of a rearguard action. The filling of the -petrol-cans is the tedious part of the job, the cans having -to be let down by a rope into the reservoir, which lies twenty -yards from our dugout on the top of the cliff. While I -am in the middle of this job, an order from VIII Corps -H.Q. comes that I am to leave with all the A.S.C. details -to-night. As I have already received an order from D.H.Q. -to go off to-morrow night, I reply that I am sending the -men with the remaining officers and am going with D.H.Q. -to-morrow. I get two gallons of water, some bully, biscuits, -and cheese put in my dugout. I send all my kit -off with my servant, who places some hay on the floor -for my bed for this, my last night, and go back to finish -the job I am on. To-morrow will be monotonous, waiting -for the evening with nothing to do; but I have a good -book to read and plenty of tobacco, and the day will soon -pass. I am to go off at 6 p.m.</p> - -<p>At 10 p.m. a written order comes down from VIII -Corps that I am to go off to-night with the others, for -to-morrow is “Z” night, and the beaches must be cleared -as far as possible of non-combatant details. I go to VIII -Corps Signals and telephone D.H.Q., who say I can go. -I finish the job of putting the water in cans in the keep -at twelve midnight and go back to my dugout. All have -left except five men. Two of them landed with me on -“W” Beach on the first day.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 8th.</i></h3> - -<p>It is now the beginning of “Z” day, and we three stand -on “W” Beach waiting orders to go on No. 1 Pier. As -we stand in the heavy sand, my thoughts immediately go -back to the night of April 25th, where in the same place -as I am now standing we were labouring carrying boxes -of supplies up the beach. I feel as if I have gone round -in a complete circle. That is what has happened with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[321]</span> -the Gallipoli Campaign: it has indeed gone round in a -complete circle.</p> - -<p>The beach is alive with troops, and animals are being -feverishly embarked. About two hundred have been shot -to-night, though, and some men actually cried as they performed -that horrid task. Fortunately there is little shelling. -One now and again bursts on the high ground of the beach.</p> - -<p>An M.L.O. comes along the pier and instructs us to file -along on board. We pass up the pier, up a gangway, -over one of the sunken ships, and on to a small ship moored -on the further side. The five N.C.O.’s go to their quarters -and I go to the wardroom, where my name and particulars -of my command (strength numbering five) are taken. And -then I have a whisky and soda and a cigar.</p> - -<p>Phew! the relief. “W” Beach the last few weeks!... -Let’s forget about it!</p> - - -<h3><i>2.30 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>The ship is now nearly full up with troops, and an officer -comes in to say we are off. I go up on deck and find that -they are just weighing anchor. It is tricky work getting -a ship away from improvised piers. The captain is the -same Naval officer who used to command the <i>Whitby -Abbey</i>, which took me to Lemnos and back in July last. -To-morrow night will be his last trip to Gallipoli.</p> - -<p>At last, after a lot of manœuvring, he shouts from the -bridge “All clear aft?” and a voice answers, “Aye, aye, -sir,” then “Full steam ahead,” and we swing round and -head out to sea. I watch the lights on shore gradually -disappear. One I notice by VIII Corps H.Q., being at -the top of a post, flickers out and on as regularly as the -ticking of a clock. What it meant I don’t know. I have -noticed it before during the past few days. Asia fires to -“V” Beach, and Achi sends a couple which burst on the -high ground at the back of “W” Beach. The lights and -the outskirts of the shore disappear. I still see the starlights -sailing in the darkness of the night. These soon -disappear. For me the adventures of Gallipoli are no -longer realities, but bad memories, and I turn into the -wardroom to sleep.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[322]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>8 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p>We enter Mudros Harbour, chockfull of warships and -transports, those on board leaning over the side and -watching us with interest.</p> - -<p>Eight and a half months have passed since those days -in April before the landing, and the scenes are almost the -same to-day. It seems eight and a half years ago.</p> - -<p>I go ashore and meet a friend at one of the Supply depots, -who makes me a guest of the mess. We have a cheery -evening.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 9th.</i></h3> - -<p>We hear the good news that the evacuation went off -splendidly. It was a perfect day. The beaches were -shelled as usual at intervals by day, but our Monitors, -destroyers and two cruisers kept their fire under. The -Turks apparently appeared to have expended their energies -on the 7th, and kept quiet. The programme followed at -Suvla was followed at Helles. At 6 p.m. the final stage -of getting the men off was started, and they were rapidly -shipped immediately as they arrived at the forming-up -posts. The beaches were shelled fitfully, and casualties -in consequence occurred, but they can only be put down -as normal casualties which have been daily occurring -through the enemy artillery activity.</p> - -<p>The last parties in the line were got away by the same -procedure as was followed at Suvla, passing down the -roads, their passage being telephoned to the beaches by -the officers on duty at the gates. So well managed was -it that it was found possible to get many troops off in -advance of the scheduled time of departure.</p> - -<p>D.H.Q. embarked by motor-launch on to H.M.S. <i>Prince -George</i>. An enemy submarine was about and discharged -a torpedo at the <i>Prince George</i>, but by wonderful luck it -failed to explode, but shook the ship from bow to -stern.</p> - -<p>At 2.30 a.m. all men had gone; only animals were left -and vehicles, and I think some animals were left to fall -into the Turks’ hands alive.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[323]</span></p> - - -<h3><i>January 10th.</i></h3> - -<p>Go on board the <i>Scotian</i> with D.H.Q. 29th Division and -part of the 29th Division.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 11th.</i></h3> - -<p>Leave Mudros Harbour at eight. Day fine, and comfortable -boat. Troops in good spirits. Boat drill at -10.30 a.m. Submarine lookout all round ship. Boat drill -at 4 p.m. Three spy prisoners on board—two Greeks and -one other. One Greek sitting in corner of deck telling his -beads all the time. The others walk up and down -looking very serious. Serious cases, and things look very -black for them.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 12th.</i></h3> - -<p>Beautiful day. Zigzagging a lot to avoid submarines. -Doing fifteen knots. Steer east in morning towards Palestine. -Afternoon, head for Alexandria with a zigzagging -course.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 13th.</i></h3> - -<p>Arrive Alexandria Harbour at six o’clock in the morning. -Arabs come on board and sell papers. Have a curiously -delightful feeling of homecoming. Alexandria seems just -like home now, after all those months in Gallipoli. Harbour -full of troopships. Go into the town in the afternoon. -Delightful walking about the shops and civilization again. -Send cable home. Back on ship again for dinner.</p> - - -<h3><i>8.30 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>Embark on troop train. Cattle trucks mostly. I sleep -with Grant and Firth, Divisional Signal Officer, in luggage -van. Damned uncomfortable journey.</p> - - -<h3><i>January 14th.</i></h3> - -<p>We arrive at a junction at 9 a.m., and hear that an -engine is off the line at the next station. Broken-down, -dirty Arab village just opposite, and an oasis. Nothing -else but sandy desert. Wait all day and have to wire<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[324]</span> -for rations. New Zealand A.S.C. comes to our rescue with -supplies. Issue same to troops on our train and also to -another troop train behind us, with troops on board from -Ypres. Troops amuse themselves with football in the afternoon, -much to the natives’ interest. Arab boys now and -again join in, causing amusement. Eight o’clock in the evening -we get up a smoking concert on the side of the line. -I have been to some curious smoking concerts during the -war, but this one (now on) will live in my memory. Desert, -moonlight, troop trains lit up, a bit of a fire, and around, -Tommies fresh from Gallipoli enjoying the fun to the full. -What a nation! We never had a chance at Gallipoli. -Let’s forget about it.</p> - - -<h3><i>10 p.m.</i></h3> - -<p>“God save the King” sung, and then off to bed!</p> - - -<h3><i>January 15th.</i></h3> - -<p>Woke up at twelve midnight; ration train arrives with -rations for to-morrow, in case we cannot get on.</p> - - -<h3><i>2 a.m.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent">Train ordered to move. Get up and load rations on -to the train. Arrive Suez 10 a.m., and go on to New -Camp. For last hour I did a bit of stoking on engine. -Rather unique, stoking an engine in an Egyptian desert. -Arrive at a large camp, the largest that I have ever been -into. Tents everywhere, laid out in perfect order. Coolies, -Arabs, and Hindus unloading stores from trains, which -arrive at frequent intervals on the single line running -through the camp.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"></div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[325]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="EPILOGUE">EPILOGUE</h2> - - -<h3><i>January 20th.</i></h3> - -<p class="noindent b2"><span class="smcap">Finds</span> me in camp with a tent to myself and things -working smoothly; everything, as far as humanly possible, -is ready for any eventuality, and the Turk, if he tries any -tricks, will get his knuckles badly rapped. The K.O.S.B.’s -go by to the wild, inspiring strains of the pipes. Everything -is bustle—trains shunting, stores coming up, horsemen -and guns moving into position, and there is an air -of expectancy over everything. And so these random -notes come to an end. I am back in camp with the horrors -of the Peninsula left behind me for ever. Of those who -sailed from England so lightheartedly in March, few are -left, but those that remain are attached to each other by -invisible fetters. Those strange months—dull and exciting, -tragic and humorous, spent under the eye of the -enemy on an alien shore—form a common bond between -us. All of us now know the full meaning of Life, and -all of us have walked, not once, but many times, with -Death on the grim Peninsula. We have been beaten—not -so much by the enemy as by climatic and geographical -conditions; but beaten we are, and nothing remains but -to accept defeat like sportsmen.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak p2" id="INDEX">INDEX</h2> - - -<ul class="index"> -<li class="ifrst">“A” Battery, <a href="#Page_256">256</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“A” Beach, <a href="#Page_205">205</a></li> - -<li class="indx">A.S.C., difficulties of, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Abercrombie</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_146">146</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Achi Baba, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">aeroplanes over, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">shells on, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">bombardment from, <a href="#Page_179">179</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Addison, killed, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Aeroplane, French, falls in sea, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">English, falls in sea, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">down on Salt Lake, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Agamemnon</i>, H.M.S., attacked, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Alaunia</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Albion</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Alexandria, arrival at, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">German liners at, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">description of, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">in hospital at, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">return to, <a href="#Page_323">323</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Anafarta, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Anglo-Egyptian</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_168">168</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Anzac, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">strafe at, <a href="#Page_241">241</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Aragon</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Arcadian</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Armstrong, Captain, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ashmead-Bartlett, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Asia, coast of, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">shelled from, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">heavy shelling from, <a href="#Page_135">135</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Asiatic Annie,” <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Askold</i>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Aucania</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Australians, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Engineers, <a href="#Page_213">213</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">B9, H.M.S., visited, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li> - -<li class="indx">B10, H.M.S., visited, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“B” Beach, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bailey, Major, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Baker, Sir Randolph, wounded, <a href="#Page_244">244</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bakery, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Balfour, invalided, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Barlow, Major, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">wounded, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Baxter, Quartermaster, <a href="#Page_224">224</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bayfield, Captain, <a href="#Page_27">27</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Beadon, Colonel, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Beckwith, Major, <a href="#Page_132">132</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Beetleheimer, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Birch, Lieutenant, <a href="#Page_139">139</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Birdwood, General, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blackburn, Major, <a href="#Page_199">199</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blizzard, the great, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Boomerang Fort, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">captured, <a href="#Page_148">148</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bray, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Brock, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bruce, Colonel, <a href="#Page_165">165</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bruce’s Ravine, <a href="#Page_197">197</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Burnt Hill, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">taken and retaken, <a href="#Page_211">211</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bush, Captain, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">killed, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Butler, Lieutenant, <a href="#Page_220">220</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Byng, General, <a href="#Page_282">282</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">“C” Beach, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>; badly shelled, <a href="#Page_268">268</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Canopus</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Carrington-Smith, Colonel, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Carver, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Castra, <a href="#Page_220">220</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Casualties, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">on beach, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cayley, Colonel, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Brigadier-General, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">narrow escape of, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Chanak searchlight, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Chocolate Hill, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Christmas Day, <a href="#Page_307">307</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Church Farm, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Clapham Junction,” <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Collier, Major, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">leaves, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cooke, joins, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cooper, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Costaker, Major, killed, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cox, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">D’Amade, General, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">goes home, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dardanelles, climate of, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Davidson, Lieutenant, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Davy, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li class="indx">de Lisle, General, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">nearly hit, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dent, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Destroyers, Turkish, sunk, <a href="#Page_96">96</a></li> - -<li class="indx">De Tott’s Battery, <a href="#Page_139">139</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Dongola</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Doran, General, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">returns to England, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Drabis, <a href="#Page_288">288</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dublin Fusiliers, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Duff, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dugout, on fire, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Edey, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Eighth Corps Gully, new camp at, <a href="#Page_266">266</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Eighty-eighth Brigade, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Eighty-seventh Brigade, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Eighty-sixth Brigade, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ekin, Colonel, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Elphinstone, Louis, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Enver Pasha, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Essex Regiment, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Evans, Sergeant, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Farmer, Captain, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">invalided, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Festin, Captain, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Findlay, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Flies, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Foley, Lieutenant, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ford, Quartermaster, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fraser, Major, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li> - -<li class="indx">French battleship attacked, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Frew, R.A.M.C., <a href="#Page_258">258</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fulford, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fuller, Colonel, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_274">274</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Furniture, <a href="#Page_262">262</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Gaba Tepe, Australians attacked at, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gale, heavy, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Geddes, <a href="#Page_191">191</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gee, Captain, <a href="#Page_280">280</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Geoffrey-Faussett, Colonel, killed, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gibbon, Major, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gibraltar Hill, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Glory</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gloucester Yeomanry, <a href="#Page_203">203</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Goeben</i>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Golden Horn, the, frozen, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Goliath</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">torpedoed, <a href="#Page_84">84</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gostling, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Grant, <a href="#Page_286">286</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gregory, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Grogan, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gully Beach, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gun Hill, visited, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gurkha Beach, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gurkha Bluff, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gurkhas, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gwendy, killed, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Hadow, Captain, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Major, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hamilton, Sir Ian, exhortation of, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">reported leaving, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hampshire Regiment, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Harding, Quartermaster, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Haricot Redoubt, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">taken by French, <a href="#Page_142">142</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Helles, evacuation commenced, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">evacuated, <a href="#Page_321">321</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Horse of Troy, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Horton, Major, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Howard de Walden, Lord, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Howell, wounded, <a href="#Page_208">208</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hunt, joins, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hunter-Weston, General, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Huskisson, Major, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Colonel, <a href="#Page_302">302</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hyslop, Captain, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Imbros, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">beauty of, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">bombarded, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">go to, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">rides in, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Implacable</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Japanese bombs, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Jeans, Fleet Surgeon, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Jennings, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Jones, Sergeant, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">killed, <a href="#Page_303">303</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Karakol Dagh, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></li> - -<li class="indx">King’s Own Scottish Borderers, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Kitchener, Lord, arrives, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Koe, Colonel, <a href="#Page_51">51</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Koebel, Captain, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">dies of wounds, <a href="#Page_321">321</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Krithia, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">bombarded, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Krithia Nullah, <a href="#Page_90">90</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Kum Kale, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">shelled from, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Lachard, joins, <a href="#Page_232">232</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Laird, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lala Baba, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">badly shelled, <a href="#Page_268">268</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lancashire Fusiliers, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">raid on, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lancashire Landing, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lancashire Territorials, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Lancaster Terrace,” <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lang, Major, <a href="#Page_92">92</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lee, Major, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">killed, <a href="#Page_67">67</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Leith Walk, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lemnos, arrival at, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">invalided to, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Leslie, Quartermaster, <a href="#Page_65">65</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lewington, Private, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Loce, Commander, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lone Tree Gully, <a href="#Page_212">212</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Lord Nelson</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_142">142</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lowland Division arrives, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lucas, Major, <a href="#Page_112">112</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">McDougall, Arthur, Lieutenant, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li> - -<li class="indx">McLoughlin, <a href="#Page_287">287</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Majestic</i>, H.M.S., torpedoed, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Malta, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Manchester Regiment, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Manitou</i>, S.S., attacked, <a href="#Page_27">27</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Marshall, Brigadier-General, <a href="#Page_112">112</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Massena</i>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Matthews, Captain, joins, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">leaves, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mathias, Captain, <a href="#Page_115">115</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Meltem, <a href="#Page_18">18</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Middlesex Yeomanry, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Milbanke, Sir John, killed, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Miller, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Milne, Captain, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Milward, Lieutenant, R.N., <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Monro, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Moon, horse killed, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Moore, V.C., <a href="#Page_194">194</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Morris, Machine Gun Officer, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">ill, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Morto Bay, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">bathing at, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mowatt, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mudros, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mules, Indian, <a href="#Page_76">76</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Munro, General, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">arrives, <a href="#Page_251">251</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Munster Fusiliers, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Napier, General, killed, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Neave, invalided, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Neuralia</i>, hospital ship, <a href="#Page_163">163</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Neville, <a href="#Page_168">168</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Newfoundland Regiment joins, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></li> - -<li class="indx">New Zealanders, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Nightingale, <a href="#Page_191">191</a></li> - -<li class="indx">North, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Notts and Derby Yeomanry, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">O’Hara, Major, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">leaves, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Colonel, <a href="#Page_298">298</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Owen, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Panaghia, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Panton, Captain, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Parish, General, <a href="#Page_80">80</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Parker, Captain, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Partridge</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_301">301</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Patterson, Colonel, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pearson, Colonel, <a href="#Page_277">277</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Peninsula Press</i>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Percival, General, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Petro, <a href="#Page_212">212</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Phillips, Captain, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">tent shared with, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">wounded, <a href="#Page_230">230</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Pimple,” the, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">shelled by Monitors, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pink Farm, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Brigade H.Q. near, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">razed by shell fire, <a href="#Page_153">153</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Poole, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Prince Adil, yachting with, <a href="#Page_168">168</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Prince George</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">hit, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_322">322</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Prosser, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Punjabis, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst"><i>Queen Elizabeth</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Rabbit Island, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Raglan</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_186">186</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Reave, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Reid, Captain, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">killed, <a href="#Page_67">67</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Reid, Signal Officer, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Revel, killed, <a href="#Page_140">140</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ritchie, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>River Clyde</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Roberts, <a href="#Page_92">92</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rochdale, Lord, <a href="#Page_80">80</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Royal Scots, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">badly cut up, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst"><i>Saint-Louis</i>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Salt Lake, <a href="#Page_208">208</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Samothrace, <a href="#Page_220">220</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sari Bair, <a href="#Page_202">202</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Scorpions, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Sea View,” <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sed-el-Bahr, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">French in, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">described, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Seeang-Bee</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Senegalese, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">photographed, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">bathing, <a href="#Page_114">114</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sharpshooters, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sherwood Foresters, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shorto, Major, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shuter, Captain, <a href="#Page_167">167</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Sicilia</i>, hospital ship, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sinclair-Thomson, Captain, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Smart, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Smith, Quartermaster, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Snakes, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li class="indx">South Lancashire Division, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li class="indx">South Wales Borderers, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Southland</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Steel, Lieutenant, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">death of, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stoney, Captain, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Streidinger, Major, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Submarine, visit to a French, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Sudan</i>, hospital ship, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Suez, arrival at, <a href="#Page_324">324</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Suvla Bay, landing at, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">bad news from, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">embark for, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">water difficulties at, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">view from, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">nature of country, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">arrangements for evacuation, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">evacuated, <a href="#Page_296">296</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Swiftsure</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_77">77</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">attacked, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">visit to, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">narrow escape of, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst"><i>Talbot</i>, H.M.S., <a href="#Page_146">146</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tenth Division, at Salonika, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Thirteenth Division, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Thomson, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Torpedo caught, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trafalgar Square, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trenches, visit to first-line, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tressider, Captain, killed, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Triumph</i>, H.M.S., torpedoed, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Turkish wounded, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Turks, said to be starving, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Twelve Tree Wood, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Twenty-ninth Division, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">push forward, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Unwin, Commander, <a href="#Page_293">293</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Usher, Captain, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">killed, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">“V” Beach, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Senegalese at, <a href="#Page_82">82</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Von Sanders, <a href="#Page_96">96</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">“W” Beach, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">landing at, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">bathing at, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">shelled, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">rejoin at, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">return to, <a href="#Page_302">302</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Walker, arrives, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">goes to hospital, <a href="#Page_260">260</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Warham, killed, <a href="#Page_174">174</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Warwick Yeomanry, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Way, Captain, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">effect on him of bullets, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">invalided, <a href="#Page_260">260</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Weatherall, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wedgwood, Josiah, M.P., <a href="#Page_50">50</a></li> - -<li class="indx">West Lowland Engineers C.O., killed, <a href="#Page_141">141</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Whistling Rufus,” <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whitburn, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Whitby Abbey</i>, S.S., <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li> - -<li class="indx">White House, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Williams, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Williams, Colonel, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">wounded, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wilson, Colonel, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wood, Captain, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Major, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">killed, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Worcester Regiment, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Worcester Yeomanry, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">“X” Beach, 87th Brigade depot at, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">road to, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Yen-i-Shehr, <a href="#Page_81">81</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Yeomanry in action, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - - -<li class="ifrst">Zion Mule Corps, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li> -</ul> - - -<p class="noindent center small p2" style="page-break-before: avoid;"><i>Printed in Great Britain by</i></p> - -<p class="noindent center bold" style="font-size: 80%;">UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON</p> -</div> - -<div class="transnote-end chapter p4"> - -<p class="center bold TN-style-1"><a id="TN"></a>Transcriber’s Note (continued)</p> - -<p class="TN-style-1">Errors in punctuation have been corrected. -Inconsistencies in spelling, grammar, capitalisation, and hyphenation -are as they appear in the original publication except where noted -below:</p> - -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 9 – “echanical” changed to “mechanical” (mechanical transport)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 23 – “bauled” changed to “bawled” (bawled by enthusiastic soldiers)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 31 – “in-shore” changed to “inshore” (hundred yards inshore)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 47 – “halfway” changed to “half-way” (holes half-way up her side)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 78 – “Colonel Williams Thomson and” changed to “Colonel Williams, Thomson and” (I find Colonel Williams, Thomson and our new Brigade Major.)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 97 – “two” changed to “too” (too small or too insignificant for them)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 126 – “landed out” changed to “lashed out” (Way’s horse lashed out)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 140 – “moral” changed to “morale” (the morale of the enemy)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 154 – “goodnight” changed to “good-night” (who says good-night)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 176 – “honey-combed” changed to “honeycombed” (cliffs honeycombed with)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 215 – “break-down” changed to “breakdown” (a nervous breakdown)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Page 223 – “cook-houses” changed to “cookhouses” (regimental cookhouses)</p> -<p class="TN-style-2">Index – Removed “Williams-Thomson, Colonel, 78” entry and added its page number to “Williams, Colonel” entry immediately above.</p> - -<p class="TN-style-1">The author often refers to a fellow officer named -Horne. This is sometimes incorrectly rendered as Horn in the original -publication. All such occurrences have been regularised to Horne in -this transcription.</p> - -<p class="TN-style-1">References to the village of “Sedul-Bahr” or -“Sed-el-Bahr” appear multiple times in the original publication -with the latter form being much more common. The six occurrences of -“Sedul-Bahr” have been regularised to “Sed-el-Bahr”.</p> - -<p class="TN-style-1">There is a reference to a hill above Suvla Bay that is called ‘Kara -Kol Dogh’ on page 253 but ‘Kara-Kol-Dagh’ in the Index. Both references -have been changed to ‘Karakol Dagh’ by which it is more commonly known.</p> - -<p class="TN-style-1">The Index of the original publication contains many errors, most of -which are left unchanged in this transcription. They include entries -where some instances of terms are not listed and entries that reference -terms that do not appear on the cited page. However missing punctuation -and inconsistent formatting have been corrected and a small number of -entries have been revised where that was required as a consequence of -other changes noted above.</p> - -<hr class="r10" /> - -<p class="TN-style-1"><a class="underline" href="#top">Back to top</a></p> -</div> - - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALLIPOLI DIARY ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world 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 Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online - at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/bowl-shape.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/bowl-shape.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 289d07d..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/bowl-shape.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/colophon.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/colophon.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7d1b7fb..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/colophon.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8464bf0..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_032_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_032_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d31930a..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_032_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_064a_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_064a_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d8a28e2..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_064a_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_064b_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_064b_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 117f14f..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_064b_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_092a_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_092a_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 94134b2..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_092a_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_092b_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_092b_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c62aa74..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_092b_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_176a_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_176a_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e568021..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_176a_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_176b_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_176b_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 77bf892..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_176b_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_176c_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_176c_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0f528b8..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_176c_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_200_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_200_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index fd51d6f..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_200_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_216a_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_216a_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d910385..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_216a_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_216b_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_216b_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d145fb9..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_216b_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_224_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_224_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f6b25e4..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_224_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_244a_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_244a_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8e87bb0..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_244a_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67661-h/images/i_244b_grayscale.jpg b/old/67661-h/images/i_244b_grayscale.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 835af4e..0000000 --- a/old/67661-h/images/i_244b_grayscale.jpg +++ /dev/null |
