Gallipoli Diary - free ebook by John Graham Gillam

GALLIPOLI DIARY

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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 t

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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 o

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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

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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 troopsh

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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 Divisio

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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....

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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

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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!...

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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 happen

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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 Mu

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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

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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 sa

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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 awa

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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 shor

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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” B

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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 o

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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....

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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.

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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

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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 W

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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

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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

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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 ov

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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 qui

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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 heroe

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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 o

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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 w

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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 th

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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

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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, wh

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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 g

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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

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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 ha

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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

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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

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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

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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 br

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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

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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 a

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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 pa

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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

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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 slaught

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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.

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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

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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

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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 enab

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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,

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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 litt

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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 f

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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

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7 a.m.

Taube flies over, drops bomb; two men killed....

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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 mo

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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 bathi

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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?...

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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 in

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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

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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

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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 s

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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....

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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 mo

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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....

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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 c

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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 comprehens

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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 officer

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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

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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 s

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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....

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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....

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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

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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....

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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....

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June 5th, 6 a.m.

Steady rifle firing still continues, having gone on all night....

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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 interest

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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

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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,

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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....

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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 T

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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

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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....

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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 Turkis

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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

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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

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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....

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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 ca

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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 kha

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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

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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....

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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 laugh

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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,

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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

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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 o

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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 c

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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

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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

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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

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11 a.m.

The infantry attack by the French has started, and there is a report of heavy musketry all along their line....

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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....

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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....

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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....

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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....

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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....

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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 yo

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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....

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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 i

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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

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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 s

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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

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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 gall

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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

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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 bl

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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....

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6 p.m.

We are again bombarding heavily, and I hear my Brigade is attacking, but cannot see anything but smoke and dust....

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8 p.m.

It has now quietened down somewhat, but Asia is sending shells over to the 60-pounder battery once more....

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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 tren

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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!”...

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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 y

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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....

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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....

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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.”...

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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 ma

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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 unbea

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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....

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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....

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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 suspens

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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....

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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

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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 serio

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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, ma

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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 f

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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 officer

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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 ca

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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

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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, chee

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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....

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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

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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....

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July 14th.

Went before Registrar at twelve, and sent into convalescence. To report to-morrow morning....

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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, col

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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....

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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 F

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July 22nd.

We were to start last night, but owing to submarine scare we have not yet sailed....

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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

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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....

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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, excep

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July 23rd, 9.30 a.m.

Sea rough and ship rolling. Ugh! I do feel ill....

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10.30 a.m.

Four blasts on the hooter call us all to boat drill, with life-belts....

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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....

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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 moonli

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July 25th.

Three months ago to-day the landing, and Achi Baba is not taken yet....

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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....

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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

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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 somewha

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8 p.m.

The night falls quicker now, but with the same lovely colouring, and a full moon is shining....

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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....

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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; bu

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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.

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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 clif

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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 stra

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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

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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

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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 an

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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 dr

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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....

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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 thi

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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

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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 we

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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.

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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....

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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.

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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....

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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

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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....

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August 11th.

Slight intermittent shelling on beaches and roads from Turks all day....

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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 mile

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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 tar

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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.

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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 unde

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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—ru

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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 Be

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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 m

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Evening.

It has been very quiet during the day, but a few shells came over to “W” Beach; most of them did not explode....

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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....

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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 new

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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 mounta

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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, a

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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 lighter

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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

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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

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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 shor

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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 m

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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

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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

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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 i

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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 foo

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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 hav

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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....

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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 n

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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

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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

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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....

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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

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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

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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 Sw

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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 mis

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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 d

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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....

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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 Helle

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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 mo

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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

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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 gr

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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....

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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 l

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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.)...

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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 s

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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 re

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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....

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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 bat

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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 slau

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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 gu

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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

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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?...

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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 tim

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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

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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 ha

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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 batta

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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 thereo

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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 whist

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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....

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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

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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.

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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....

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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

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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 Ge

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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,

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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-b

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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....

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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 c

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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 a

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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 Turk

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October 19th.

A quiet morning, but at four we were shelled as usual. Not much damage....

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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 thro

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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!...

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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....

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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,

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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—th

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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....

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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 g

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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

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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

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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

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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 th

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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?...

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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....

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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....

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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 r

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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.

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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 se

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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....

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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....

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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

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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

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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 s

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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....

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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. S

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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 pl

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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

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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 b

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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

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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 g

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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

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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....

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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

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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....

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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....

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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,

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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.

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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 gu

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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 bl

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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 H

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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 t

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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 hos

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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

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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 r

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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 fl

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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,

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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 P

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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

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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....

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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 thes

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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 day

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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

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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

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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 noth

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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 u

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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. Wha

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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 m

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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 unde

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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, a

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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

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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

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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 Evacuatio

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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 u

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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 di

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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

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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 da

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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....

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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 seem

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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

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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, an

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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 De

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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. Afte

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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 a

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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

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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 T

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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 t

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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 a

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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 ar

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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,

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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....

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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.

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January 10th.

Go on board the Scotian with D.H.Q. 29th Division and part of the 29th Division....

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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....

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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....

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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....

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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....

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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

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10 p.m.

“God save the King” sung, and then off to bed!...

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January 15th.

Woke up at twelve midnight; ration train arrives with rations for to-morrow, in case we cannot get on....

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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....

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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 horror

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