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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. 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