Away beyond the heights we have taken to-day the country is very pretty with plenty of trees and vegetation. Here I saw dead and wounded Turks in abundance, especially at some of their own wire entanglements, several wounded being stretched out on the wires. Their wire is very barbarous and has long, closely set spikes, and the position must have been anything but comfortable.

Another counter-attack—the third—has just been made, and one of our battleships has joined in.

The Dublins, whose officers I have associated most with, have only three of these left out of twenty-seven. I came across two of these to-day—Padre Finn, R.C. Chaplain, whom I knew well and greatly respected, I found at the edge of the sea, with his clothes thrown open exhibiting a wound in the chest. And in the village, all huddled up among long weeds and nettles I found a lieutenant who sat at my table on the "Ausonia"—Bernard. In both cases death must have been instantaneous.

Here comes a fourth attack. Our boys are to have a night of it.

To-day only about eighteen shells were fired at the "River Clyde" all from the Asiatic side, only one hitting. We were putting wounded on board at the time and most of the shots were directed against these operations.

I have had no sleep since I left Tenedos, but to-night I feel very fresh, although the day has been long and busy.

All who know are quite satisfied with to-day's progress, and the hope that the worst is over cheers one. To-morrow we will have to move on, we must keep the Turks on the run. Some of the prisoners taken to-day are German.

(Being unable in my letters to my wife to give a full account of all that was doing, my diary was meant to fill in gaps, and as I had sent home a fairly full account of the landing much is omitted here, and I will give a more extended description as seen by myself. About this time in particular my diary had to be written at odd moments, and it was rare that I could go far without being disturbed, and writing a few sentences half a dozen times a day, or even oftener, often ended in a jumble.)

Of the five British landings the one at Sedd-el-Bahr (V. Beach) was the most difficult and disastrous.

On the 24th of April we were still lying at Tenedos, and in the afternoon were transferred to the "River Clyde". We learned the previous day that we were to land from this old coal boat that had been rendered so peculiar with her great, gaping holes, and khaki splashes on her starboard side. She had been an object of curiosity to us in Lemnos harbour, no one having any idea of her purpose.

Before dark all the men were served with tea and food, which we were told was to be their last solid meal. Soon after this the men retired to rest in a hold near the stern which had been allotted to the West Riding Engineers and ourselves. The officers took up their quarters in the stern deck house, where we had cocoa, tinned meat, etc., after which we too tried to make ourselves as comfortable as possible in the most uncomfortable of all quarters, most shutting their eyes and pretending to be asleep.

Our nerves were now fully strung, we knew we were on the very eve of the landing, which we were assured was to be rendered easy by the Navy, which had promised that their bombardment was to be so terrific that nothing the size of a cockroach would be left alive on the peninsula. We soon learned to our cost how difficult it was to substantiate this assertion.

From Tenedos we were but a small party of ships. In the pitchy darkness we had fallen in with the bigger fleet coming direct from Lemnos, and as we crept along, every ship in total darkness, we could just make out other ships alongside us. One with big hull and unusual length of guns was immediately on our port. At close quarters there was no mistaking this for anything but a dummy warship.

After a time the searchlight on the point of the peninsula could be seen sweeping its rays in long, regular flashes across the sea. By this time those ships that had furthest to go were ahead of us to the right and left. Just as the inky darkness was beginning to be dispelled there was a change in these lazy flashes. We were detected. At once they changed their long, comprehensive sweeps into sharp jerks from one ship to another as each hove into the rays. The searchlight soon went out, while hurried messages were no doubt being flashed over the wires to Constantinople and many points in our immediate neighbourhood, announcing our long-expected arrival.

Soon the guns began to roar, the first I heard being to our left up the Gulf of Saros, but in a few minutes all the ships had joined in the chorus, from what was afterwards known as Anzac all round the point and some way up the Dardanelles. A grand roar such as the world had never heard. The peninsula was quickly one dense cloud of poisonous-looking yellow-black smoke, through which flashes of bursting shells were to be seen everywhere. It was truly a magnificent sight, and the roar of the guns stirred one's blood like some martial skirl from the bagpipes. The feeling one had was a longing for them to hurry up and do their work, and let us get at the Turk at close quarters.

Our old ship crept slowly in through the ring of warships, took a circular turn just as we were passing through the line—apparently we were in too great a hurry—then we straightened our course and passed close past our covering ship, "Queen Elizabeth," the finest ship in the whole Navy, and which had been detailed to look after us. How her guns roared as she poured out broadside, as we passed by her port side, straight in on full steam for the strip of sand under the village and fort of Sedd-el-Bahr.

Unable from our hold to see properly what was doing, I had spent most of the time on deck, and when about 200 yards from land I darted down below to warn the men to lie down in case we struck rock, when the impact would have been violent. I held on to a stanchion. We were fast in the sand before I was really aware that the ship was aground—there to lie for four years, to be shot at constantly whilst we occupied Gallipoli, but in spite of all her buffeting to serve many uses, and finally to become an object of veneration, "as holy as Westminster Abbey" some one says of her in "The Sphere". For the 2100 of us on board there was to be no retreat whatever happened. We had crossed the Rubicon and burned our boats.

On board we had the 1st Munster Fusiliers, two companies of the 1st Dublin Fusiliers, one company of Hants, 100 marines, a few of the Signal Company, the West Riding Engineers, and 124 stretcher-bearers of the 89th Field Ambulance.

We had been dragging along huge barges on either side, enough to form a couple of gangways, had they only behaved as was intended. When the ship struck, the momentum these had on should have been enough to keep them on their way till they grounded ahead of us, drawing but very little water as they did; but somehow or other this part was a failure, they grounded too soon, then broke away from each other. The men had then to get ashore in open boats manned by the marines we had on board. This was at once pushed on, boat after boat left the ship's side for the beach, perhaps 30 yards off, terrific machine-gunfire sweeping each boat.

The first few loads escaped with comparatively few casualties, but soon the fire was so hot and accurate that practically not a man got to the shelter of the 10 to 12-foot high sandbank beyond the narrow strip of sand. About 300 yards to our left was a high projecting rock, a continuation of the high ground that closed in that side of the long slope of V. Beach, and from here came that infernal shower of bullets that was causing such terrible havoc. From the "Clyde" one could easily tell where the bullets were coming from by their sputter in the water.

A constant stream of shells was being kept up all the time on this rock from the ships. The whole rim of V. Beach, as it stretched backwards for 500 or 600 yards, was searched time after time by high explosives, each shell bursting with accurate precision 5 or 6 feet under the crest. But the mischief was not coming from this crest, it was from that infernal rock alone, but in spite of all their efforts our guns could not silence this machine-gunfire.

It was an extraordinary sight to watch our men go off, boat after boat, push off for a few yards, spring from the seats to dash into the water which was now less than waist deep. It was just on this point that the enemy fire was concentrated. Those who got into the water, rifle in hand and heavy pack on back, generally made a dive forward riddled through and through, if there was still life in them to drown in a few seconds. Many were being hit before they had time to spring from the boats, their hands were thrown up in the air, or else they heaved helplessly over stone dead. All this I watched from the holes in the side of the ship, but when not otherwise occupied, from the deck where I could see on all sides.

But soon we of the Field Ambulance had other work to do. Many of the boats had all their rowers killed and never returned, others were able to push back, generally with most of their marines laid out, but with sufficient left to man a boat. Back they came to our starboard hole, and the wounded were lifted up to us and attended to. Repeatedly the whole of our floor was covered with wounded and dead men; a pinnace would arrive from a ship and relieve us of our wounded, but we filled up again almost at once.

Along the water's edge there was now a mass of dead men, on the sand a mixture of dead and weltering wounded, while a fair number had reached the sandbank just beyond, where, under an enfilading fire from the rock, they scraped themselves into the recesses. Boats from the other ships were being towed in in threes by pinnaces, till close to the beach when the pinnaces wheeled about, and for the last short distance they had to trust to their oars. Those landing to our right and left as they came in from the other ships were faring no better than those from the "Clyde". One boat half-way to the rock, and which had been left stranded, had three men caught in the festooned rope that runs round the gunwale. Into this they had dived, probably as the boat heeled over to that side and the rope had floated outwards, and there they swung for the rest of the day, two not moving a muscle and evidently dead, but for long I could see the other poor fellow stretch out his arms time after time, but before evening he too was still.

They still kept splashing on between the boats and the sand, dived forward and fell dead at once, or were drowned, till at last it was seen that it was useless to continue such slaughter to no purpose, and the landing at this point had to be given up for the time being.

After the hellish morning we had had, the afternoon thus became comparatively quiet. Those who were still unwounded made for the ruins of the round tower of the fort, slightly to our right. Round this pile of stones they peered, looking for the Turk, who was always found, but here there were but few shots exchanged, as the Turks advanced our men made a rush backwards, or to the sands below, in time to prowl forward once more to have another look, and make the same rush back.

Then came night with its full moon. An attempt was made to land more men about 8 o'clock. These were fired on and again we had to desist.

About 8.30 an officer on shore made a dash for our ship, and on describing the terrible condition and suffering of the wounded who had been in the sandbank for about fourteen hours, I decided to go to their assistance. We had previously been officially warned that it would be impossible for any of the Ambulance to land before morning, but heedless of this I set off alone over the barges and splashed through the remaining few yards of water. Here most of those still alive were wounded more or less severely, and I set to work on them, removing many useless and harmful tourniquets for one thing, and worked my way to the left towards the high rocks where the snipers still were. All the wounded on this side I attended to, an officer accompanying me all the time. I then went to the other side, and after seeing to all in the sand my companion left me, and I next went to a long, low rock which projected into the water for about 20 yards a short way to the right of the "Clyde". Here the dead and wounded were heaped together two and three deep, and it was among these I had my hardest work. All had to be disentangled single-handed from their uncomfortable positions, some lying with head and shoulders in the tideless water, with broken legs in some cases dangling on a higher level.

At the very point of this rock, which had been a favourite spot for the boats to steer to, there was a solid mass of dead and wounded mixed up together. The whole of these I saw to, although by this time there was little I could do except lift and pull them into more comfortable positions, but I was able to do something for every one of them. My last piece of work was to look after six men who were groaning in a boat stranded close to the point of the rock. Three lay on each side with their legs inwards; a plank ran the whole length of the middle of the boat, and along this as it rested on their legs, men had been running during the landing. Getting on this plank some of them howled in agony and beseeched me to get off. I then got into the water and as I could do nothing more for them, my dressings being finished some time before, I gave each a dose of morphia by the mouth.

I had just finished and was standing waist-deep in the water when the Turkish counter-attack commenced with a volley from the distant end of the fort, not over 300 yards off. The only person the Turk could see was myself, the sandbank protecting the others from view, and at least seven or eight bullets spluttered round me in the water. I had been well warned that this counter-attack would take place at any moment, but I never gave it a single thought. It was in anticipation of this that the others clung to the shelter of the sandbank and I was left to work alone. I immediately splashed for a small boat that formed the end of one of the gangways, and into this I hauled myself. On looking at my watch I found it was just midnight, and that I had thus been at work for three and a half hours.

Midnight had evidently been chosen by the Turk as the hour at which to attack, and also by us to make another attempt to land men. At this moment a body of our men were coming along the gangway, the first of them being close to this boat which was on a slightly lower level than the barges that formed the bulk of the gangway. The five foremost threw themselves into my boat and we lay stretched across the seats, the men on the barges lying down at once where they were. Here none of us had any protection, and it was a miracle any one of us escaped, the fire from machine-guns and rifles was so terrific. Each bullet as it struck the "Clyde" drove sparks, while the old ship was ringing like a great bell. Two of our six were hit, the man stretched alongside me fatally. A seventh man in the water hauled himself in beside us, and as he was getting over the gunwale shouted, "Oh! I am hit". Hit or not hit we could not pay the slightest attention to each other now, all we could do was to lie low.

All this time I was expecting a rush for the "Clyde" by the Turks, and the boat I was in would be the first part of the gangway they would reach, and I could not help wondering what it would be like to get a bayonet through my stomach, but the feeling that this would certainly happen was not half so terrible as I should have expected. I had my revolver in my hand all the time, and it was a comfort to think that I would almost certainly account for two or three Turks before I experienced this new sensation.

The fire was kept up for about four hours, mainly on the side of the ship. As soon as there was a lull an officer in my boat shouted out. "This won't do, we must now land, follow me." He got up and splashed ashore, but the men, thinking he had been too hasty, preferred to wait a little longer after the Turks had ceased fire, but soon they began to move and dash singly for the land. I wished to get on the ship, and not half liking to get into an upright position either, I crept through and over those still on the barges, amidst much cursing from my paining the wounded, who must have been numerous.

I had had a strenuous and exciting day and night, and I must say I felt it a relief when I hopped through the nearest hole in the "Clyde". It was now 4 o'clock, and I shivered with cold. I had been soaked over the head, and lying four hours in the open boat in a cold night it was impossible to keep warm. A big, black cloud had floated up over the moon, and we had a fairly sharp but short shower of rain. By this time the moon was nearing the horizon, and it was when another cloud came over her face that I succeeded in reaching the ship.

I found they had had a fairly trying time here too, although the ship's plates were thick enough to resist bullets. The noise of 100,000 bullets showering on the sides of the "Clyde" had caused a deafening din, and many had the wind up badly, not knowing what was going on outside.

The behaviour of the "River Clyde" had been a great puzzle to the Turks. She was not long aground when the guns on Kum Kale, across the Dardanelles, opened on us, and this fire was kept up the whole day—on us and us only as far as I could make out. It took them some time to get our range, and for a considerable time we were not hit, all the shells being shorts or overs. At last they got us, the first shell that hit going through our hold at an angle of 45 degrees, coming through the deck over our heads, and going out at the junction of the floor and side wall. In its course it struck a man on the head, this being splashed all through the hold. Another man squatting on the floor was hit about the middle of both thighs, one leg being completely severed, while the other hung by a tiny shred of skin only. He fell back with a howl with both stumps in the air.

In five minutes a second shell entered our hold, wounding two or three where we were, mostly by the buckling of the floor plates, then passing down below to the lowest hold where many men were sheltering under the water line. Here six or seven were laid out.

After this we had many narrow escapes, but I believe only two other shells actually struck the ship that day. By good luck none exploded in their passage through, otherwise the casualty list would have been very heavy. Many had been hit and killed on deck by machine-gun bullets, and many bullets had found their way through the small openings cut for working the twelve machine-guns that were placed there.

(I have the kind permission of the author, a scholarly and much-respected member of our Corps, to insert the following poem which appeared in "The British Weekly" and one of the Aberdeen papers.)

THE FACE OF DEATH.

(Dedicated to Lieutenant George Davidson.)

We shall not be the men we were before, No, never while we draw this mortal breath: For we have probed existence to the core, And looked upon the very Face of Death.

Upon our famous collier, "River Clyde," We sat as men who wait the summons dread. Brave soldiers fell, defenceless, at our side, We, too, might soon be numbered with the dead.

With fateful frequency the shells did burst Around and near the members of our Corps: Within our hearts we asked, "Who'll be the first To converse with his comrades never more?"

O never, never from our memory's page Shall be erased these moments of despair: An hour seemed an interminable age, But, in His mercy, God our lives did spare.

We care not what the worldly wise may say, We owe deliverance to the God of Heaven, Whose Power Omnipotent the worlds obey, 'Gainst whose decrees mankind in vain hath striven.

Had He but chosen that our hour had come, No scheming had availed our lives to save: 'Twas not the hour to call our spirits home, The Lord must take, as 'twas the Lord that gave.

And not in vain were we to death brought nigh, For He whose presence came our hearts so near Hath taught us we can ne'er His Will defy, But evermore should live in reverent Fear.

And men have scaled the sacred slopes of Prayer Who ne'er before aspired to heights above: And find the Universe divinely fair Because 'tis governed by a Heart of Love.

GEORGE STEPHEN.

89TH FIELD AMBULANCE, R.A.M.C., GALLIPOLI, 24th May, 1915.

(The following is taken from my diary and dated August 3, 1916, just after we had landed in the Ypres salient to which the remains of our Division went after being wiped out in the great Somme fight the previous month:—

"I have to-day received a copy of the Aberdeen 'Free Press,' dated July 28, where there is an article on Gallipoli by one of our transport men, G. Burnett, who is now a lieutenant in the Scottish Horse. It runs: 'It is scarcely fair to single out officers and men who did gallant service that first week, but I feel that I ought to mention the names of Lieutenant George Davidson, and Private Gavin Greig. Lieutenant (now Captain) Davidson gained the D.S.O. while Greig was promoted sergeant shortly afterwards. We were told that Lieutenant Davidson led a bayonet charge, but he certainly did go into Sedd-el-Bahr, revolver in hand, to look for curios when there was yet great danger from snipers. And he used to go up towards the Turkish trenches, gathering flowers which he would show us on his return. Every man of us would have followed him anywhere. I recollect going out to help the bearers to take in some wounded, when the party of which I formed a member fell in with Lieutenant Davidson. "Oh," he said, "would you men like to look for wounded on the hill-side?" "Yes," we answered. "Well, follow me," and we did until an officer forbade us to go any further.'"

The D.S.O. never materialized. I am assured a Cairo paper announced that it did, and I was often congratulated on the honour. But, as Artemus Ward would say, "Please, Mr. Printer, put a few asterisks here".)

April 28th.—Yesterday was spent dodging shells, with a short advance in the evening, and I had not time to write up my diary. At the present moment I am out reconnoitring alone, my post being the top of the high cliff west of our landing place, where the snipers gave us so much trouble, and I sit on the slope of the two gun battery which has its big Krupp guns dismantled, the result of the naval battering a few weeks ago.

A great advance on Krithia has begun, the various combatant units having already moved off, or are busily preparing. Those already over the ridges near the south point of the peninsula are having the attentions of the Krithia guns, a constant stream of shells coming from there. Many are also landing about our beach where the enemy knows large bodies of troops are still landing. All our sea monsters are busy off the whole point of Gallipoli, so far up the Dardanelles, and round the west coast. The air vibrates, and the roaring echoes all round never cease. And over all is a brilliant, scorching sun, the air otherwise a dead calm, and not a ripple on the Aegean. In spite of this calm a terrific day is in progress for the Turk and us, but we hope to make a great advance before night towards the capture of the forts at the Narrows. All round where I sit the ground is ploughed up with great holes, some beside this battery the largest of any, big enough to completely hide a horse and cart. Pieces of shell of several hundredweight lie about. The precision of our gunfire has to be seen otherwise one could not believe how accurately they can hit a small object miles off. The very birds have got accustomed to the din, and on the face of the rocks where I sit is a pair of exquisite birds—probably jays—flitting about as though nothing unusual was going on. The variety of birds is not great, but all are new to me and have interested me greatly, so also have the flowers, which are very fine. I was specially taken with a big light purple rock rose, nearly three inches across, and in great abundance.

From this place of vantage I have watched our beach for some time, but as our services are not likely to be much needed here I must return to our Ambulance which lies to the east of the rock, and we must follow our Brigade (86) shortly.... Back and seated here again. The van of the Munsters arrived at this spot before I left, and dodged and ducked at every shell. On Sunday and Monday they had 286 casualties, including most of their officers. They still stream past just behind me, with the Lancs. and others. The Lancs. had suffered very badly at W. Beach, while the Dublins lost 550, with twenty officers out of twenty-three. Four Dublin officers sat at my table on the "Ausonia "—two are dead, the other two wounded.

April 29th.—I had no time to finish my account of the day's doings yesterday. It was too soon for our Ambulance to go out so I spent part of the forenoon at the General's Observation Hill with General Reeks, who was afterwards joined by General Hunter-Weston. By way of excuse for being there I was waiting to see how our attack on the Turks was getting on to see when I could get off with my bearers. The A.D.M.S. Colonel Yarr, was also present. By 5 a.m. the attack had stretched right across the peninsula, the French on our extreme right, next the Hants and Lancs., with Munsters and Dublins on the left. A furious cannonade went on for many hours, we advancing slowly till we were near the foot of Achi Baba, when the Hants ran short of ammunition and had to retreat, the French of course retiring also. Things were really looking bad for a time, and rumours of defeat were soon afloat. Ammunition at last coming up, we could get on, but during the retreat which had to be carried out over an open piece of ground, the want of shelter was the cause of very heavy casualties.

By 1 p.m. wounded began to pour past our camp from the 88th Brigade, and, although it was not our Brigade, I went up to their front with all the bearers, Morris remaining behind. We were able to do a lot of work, collecting the wounded beside a water supply, nearly two miles from where we started. After a time I left the men where they had plenty of work, and went forward by myself for some distance, past the "Five Towers," meeting scores of walking cases and assisting where I could. Shells, especially from the Asiatic side, were numerous, three big ones bursting quite near me. After a time I ordered the men to load their stretchers and had some trouble with a General who insisted on our remaining, but about this time we were to go out to our own Brigade, and I marched them off all fully loaded. Things were not looking too well and the General wished to get the wounded collected as quickly as possible. But we had to go, we had been ordered to a point further to the left "about 4 o'clock".

The A.D.M.S. had seen Morris and suggested that I should not go out again, so I remained behind and formed a Divisional Collecting Station for all cases that passed the lighthouse. Morris now went out with his men, mine remaining to assist me. We soon had several hundreds through our hands, largely stretcher cases which we arranged in rows in front of the ruins of the lighthouse, till we had more than we could do with, and soon had to forward most of our cases to W. Beach. At midnight we still retained about thirty-five cases, and all had to be nursed and protected from the bitterly cold wind and rain as best we could. The men willingly parted with their own coats and ground sheets, and some even their tunics. We all spent a most miserable night, and I never all my life felt the cold so acutely. But by morning, in spite of this, most of the wounded had recovered from the initial shock and were much brighter, and we had them forwarded to the 88th H.Q.

The chief reason for our not retaining over night a much larger number was that most hopeless accounts of the battle were being received from the wounded, that all our line was in retreat and that before morning we would be forced back to the sea, if not to our boats. I called for volunteers, at the suggestion of Major Bell, to go out and assist, and a number went off at once with their stretchers and did yeoman service, some not returning till 3 a.m. The Turks had been mutilating the wounded—at least so it was said—and we were anxious none should again fall into their hands.

Through the night firing was heard a very short distance off, but this was only from a few snipers who had somehow got through our lines.

By daylight the weather got warmer, and except for naval firing the 29th was a day of rest. Whyte had been detached from the stretcher-bearers before the landing and was in the tent-subdivision that landed at W. Beach. He wished to have a little more excitement and he and I exchanged places, I now joining Thomson at W. Beach. Thomson, Whyte, and their nineteen men had done much work at the landing and had a very hot time. After four days and nights of hard work, although I could not say I was tired, I felt that a rest might be advisable, but the thought of leaving the bearers, even for a day or two, was depressing.

April 30th.—A slack day in a way, although I have been on my feet since early morning. A great number of shells have landed near our camp at W. Beach at various times to-day, coming from Krithia or Achi Baba. It is strange how many shells may land in the midst of closely packed men and horses and little or no damage be done—but there are exceptions.

In the afternoon a hostile aeroplane flew over us—not the first time—which dropped three bombs at an anchored balloon we have floating just off the coast. It missed and received a fierce cannonade from a number of warships but escaped, apparently untouched, and was able to report to the Turks that our landing places would make a splendid target, and the firing, which had been fitful before, now became continuous for a time. One man only was hit. About 12 yards from the opening of my dugout one plunged into the ground with a terrific crash. Thomson and I reconnoitred for a mile or so to the north to view a spot to which we had been ordered to shift our camp, probably to-morrow.

Last night, not being altogether in the open, I expected a comfortable night, but it was intensely cold, as the nights here always are, the very hot days making the cold noticeable. By day the sun is always scorching hot, and I am absolutely nut-brown and my nose painfully burned.

On all sides I still hear of fresh casualties. The battalions I have been connected with have been nearly wiped out—the Munsters and half the Dublins at V. Beach, the Lancs. and the other half of the Dublins at W. Beach, and the Royals at X. Beach. Our total casualties are put at over 4000. We must have reinforcements before we can do much more, and within the next two days 20,000 are expected from Egypt.

Last night when some one shot a dog at Sedd-el-Bahr the French thought the Turks were on them and they opened fire on their own men, several being killed and wounded.

May 1st.—More or less idle all day, all resting before the proposed attack on Achi Baba. In the afternoon we had a visit from an enemy aeroplane again, which dropped a bomb 40 yards from my "funk hole," and 4 yards from what had been taken for a pile of ammunition boxes but was really provisions—only damage, a big hole and a vile smell.

May 2nd.—Very fierce fighting all last night and the whole of to-day on the south slopes and ridges of Achi Baba, the Turks first charging and repulsing the French, Munsters, and Lancs. The firing from the sea, the French 75's and our 60-pounders was incessant, especially during the night. The Turks were finally driven back, but Krithia and the hills are still in their hands. I spent most of the night watching the progress of events, while the bearers, to whom I am unfortunately not attached to-day, were out at 1 a.m. Our casualties are not excessive considering the nature of the fight, while the Turks are said to have lost thousands from our artillery fire. Getting impatient at being out of it I succeeded in getting eight of the tent-subdivision out as bearers at 1 p.m. and I visited a good deal of the battlefield, as far as our reserve, where I found the Indians waiting for night duty and a likely attack from the Turks, or, as is half expected, we may offer a vigorous offensive.

Yesterday V. and W. Beaches had a hot attack by shell fire from the Asiatic, Krithia, and Achi Baba guns, about fifty shells landing in W. where our Ambulance has now formed its base. The damage done was slight. Two shells in quick succession exploded exactly over the heads of Thomson and myself when we were crossing the beach, both times something hitting me about the shoulders. These shrapnel shells are doing little harm, I had likely been hit by pieces of the material (a resin) in which the bullets are embedded. The smell was the worst of them.

Most of our transport came ashore to-day for the first time, and we are now eager to have our mails which are on board the "Marquette," but I doubt if anyone will take the trouble to send them over to us.

At 8 p.m. Thomson, myself, and fifty-six bearers set off to bring in wounded from a point 3 miles north of our Beach, and very nearly in a line with the Turkish and our firing lines. It was moderately dark when we started, but such a large body of men might have been visible to the enemy at some distance, and we spread out into a long line. All went well, but at several points to which we were directed as our destination we were always told the wounded were further on, and we began to think we were never to find them. We were getting very near the Turks' lines, and Thomson and I had various deliberations about the advisability of going further, but I was always determined to go on. At last we got a guide, but his idea of the whereabouts of the wounded was most hazy; all he knew was that they were collected in a nullah somewhere not far off. We came on a nullah at last and walked along its high steep banks, calling if anyone was at the bottom, in a voice not too loud owing to our proximity to the Turks. Just as we found them the fighting on our immediate right became very violent, the artillery and rifle fire being a perfect roar. Star shells were thrown over us, and we hid in the nullah while we were loading the stretchers and raising them to the top of the bank. Each stretcher squad made off at its hardest as soon as its patient was passed up. Thomson and I saw them all off, then had to cross an open piece of ground where three bullets were fired among our feet evidently by a sniper who was no distance away. This made us hurry still more, then the nullah had to be crossed to the south side. I stood in the middle of it, half-way to the knees in water and assisted ten stretchers across. Things all the time got hotter and hotter, the various batteries all belching forth at their hardest, star shells and rockets got still more numerous, and a searchlight from the Dardanelles side of Achi Baba swept the whole valley as far as our camp on W. Beach. It was a terrifying night and I was very happy to get all the men landed in camp at 10.15 safe and sound. Most of them enjoyed the little bit of sport, but Thomson overheard one of them remarking that although Lieut. Davidson didn't seem to know what fear was he had no business to bring them there. The bearers were under me and I was responsible, and I admit the charge was just; we had gone too far at such a time.

May 3rd.—Only occasional firing to-day. I went out with Kellas and Agassiz to show them the way to a point fixed on as a dressing station. After much wandering about admiring the flora of Gallipoli with Kellas we chose a spot which is unfortunately near one of our batteries. An officer there told us they intended to give the Turk a hot night and this will draw the enemy's fire about our new station, and as this is the first night ashore of these two officers I hope they will enjoy it. They arrived from the "Marquette" this morning along with Lt.-Col. Th. Fraser.

We had our usual visit from an enemy aeroplane this morning. Repeated shots went after it but away it flew towards the Narrows. The Asiatic guns have given us no trouble for two days. Commander Samson is said to have reported that two of these are disabled.

May 4th.—As far as the weather goes every day has been perfect since we came to Gallipoli—maximum of sun absolutely, and cloudless sky by night always, except on two occasions.

We still wait for reinforcements which, however, are arriving, many French troops landing at V. Beach. Our men are due from Egypt to-day. Last night the artillery and rifle fire was again constant, especially on our right, where the French lines were again driven in by the Turks, but during the day they are said to have recovered their lost position.

Two aeroplanes passed over us to-day, one firing three bombs, the other two—no damage. Our aeroplanes were also active, circling time after time round Achi Baba at a height of perhaps 5000 feet. From 110 to 120 shots were fired at one of ours, all missing. An aeroplane came down just behind our camp for orders. We had no aerodrome nearer than Tenedos before. Here we have prepared a landing place, which is beautifully level, but being exposed to gunfire we cannot retain our machines over night, all have to return to Tenedos.

We have had notice this afternoon that our Brigade, the famous 86th, no longer exists as a Brigade. After its wonderful feats of bravery we have heard this with the greatest sadness, but some of the battalions being reduced to a fourth or a fifth of their original strength, and the officers killed and wounded in a still greater proportion, there was no help but to amalgamate with the other two Brigades of our Division—87th and 88th. The Company of Hants who were with us on the "River Clyde" did well. No unit in the whole Division receives greater praise for its work than the Royal Scots (Queen's Own Edinburgh).

According to the original programme the French were to land on the Asiatic side and advance up that side of the Dardanelles, but this they either failed to do or we had enough work for all on this side, and the right wing of the advance was assigned to them, and this they still hold. From the point of Gallipoli to the top of Achi Baba is a distance of 5 miles, and before we take that it is expected that several thousand of our men will bite the dust.

The troublesome gun somewhere near Kum Kale has been more successful to-day I hear, her bag being three men and nine horses on V. Beach. Well do I know the whizz and thud of her shells—sounds all their own. This gun is mounted either on rails behind rising ground, where she can move sideways after firing a few rounds, or is on a disappearing platform.

May 5th.—The attack on Achi Baba was to have commenced to-day at 10 o'clock, but the first cannon roar was not heard till 11, when all belched forth at the same minute. There seemed to be batteries everywhere, the French 75's being specially noticeable all day, along with some other field guns of theirs which had a peculiarly sharp bark.

The Ambulance was unable to do anything till afternoon, when we got in touch with the Regimental Aid Post of the Lancs. and with the Drake and Plymouth Battalions, whose wounded we were responsible for. With us all went well, although some stretcher squads I was with had a narrow escape, two shrapnel shells bursting immediately over our heads and kicking up a dust all round us.

Our transport men, who had nothing to do with carrying the wounded—by hand at any rate—requested me to get them some excitement, and "the hotter the better," and their deputy gave me a list of those eager for this. I took them up the lines as far as we were allowed, and it was with difficulty I kept them from going still further when they heard that out in the open there were wounded who could not be reached by the Regimental bearers on account of shrapnel. When we reached our own front line we found there was a small party of men along a water course still further out. Mainly for a "lark" we determined to go out to these to see if they had any wounded. The water course was dry except for green, stagnant pools, and coming on a deep and very filthy one I decided to mount the bank and make a rush for it. All made similar rushes, one at a time, and all of us were fired at at short range. We reached the small outpost of about a dozen men lying on their stomachs and got roundly sworn at, the small hole they were in could not hold us all and we had to show ourselves, which brought a torrent of bullets about the ears of all of us. It was a very enjoyable and exciting little outing. These men would have gone all the way to the Turkish lines with pleasure.

Those in authority are well pleased with the progress made, the left wing being pushed well forward. The weather during the day was bright, but windy, and with horses and wagons at the gallop the dust was very troublesome, the whole scene being often blurred. Towards evening the cold was intense. What wind we have had here has always been from the north, and at night it might be blowing over snow.

May 6th.—A furious attack was commenced by us at 11 p.m. on the Turkish right, while the French attacked their left. Judging by the increase of the Turks heavy fire they must have brought up more heavy guns. Rumours about Krithia being captured floated in, but I could never believe this, our pouring a constant stream of shells into the village proves that it was not in our hands. The truth seems to be that the Royal Scots pushed into it, and, while following the retreating Turks into a wood on the left, had one or more machine-guns turned on to them which mowed down over 200, while the remainder had to retreat.

One of our men got wounded to-day by a shrapnel bullet which followed round the bend of one of his ribs.

I paid a visit this afternoon to our old ship, the "River Clyde," and during the ten minutes I was there three shells were fired at her. During my short absence from W. Beach for this purpose three had landed there, presumably fired at two of our aeroplanes which had alighted behind us. Only one of the shells did any damage and it smashed a limbered wagon to matchwood. All came from Asia.

May 8th.—My goodness, such a rattle. Since Sunday, April 25, I doubt if I have heard its equal.

Krithia is not yet ours in spite of the awful loss of life its attempted capture has cost us. Batteries, right and left, in front and behind all commenced a simultaneous roar at 5.30 p.m. A fairly hot fire had gone on since 10 a.m., but 5.30 had been fixed for a more furious cannonade, timed no doubt with an infantry attack on Krithia. The whole of that part and the whole face of Achi Baba reek, with denser clouds, every here and there. The roar is simply grand, and one cannot help glorying in the tremendous power of man's devilment. I wish they could make twice as much noise.

May 9th.—I had to stop the above account of the day's doings suddenly and go out with the stretcher-bearers when we had a terrible time—hard work up to 1 a.m. and most of the time to the music of bullets about our ears. And amidst all the din and roar of battle a nightingale sang the whole day and still more sweetly all through the next night, perched in a clump of trees we had repeatedly to pass on the way to the Regimental Aid Posts of the Lancs. and Plymouth and Drake Battalions—such a contrast of sounds!

Later.—It is now 7.30 p.m. and the sun has gone down in a red glow behind the rugged mountains of Imbros as viewed from the entrance of my dugout. It has been a glorious day, uncomfortably warm, but calm and without dust, which has been disagreeable for a day or two. I have just had a bathe in the Aegean, which I was much in need of, this being the first time I have taken off my clothes since I left Lemnos. Walking along the beach I picked up a photograph of a chubby baby, the darling of some one no doubt. He will miss this link with home.

The Turks have had little stomach for fighting to-day. Sniping has gone on, of course, and occasionally a regular fusillade, but to us the day on the whole has been peaceful. From 5 a.m. we have been very busy among the Australian wounded, these being the principal sufferers in yesterday's fight, owing, it is said, to their charging with the bayonet at an inopportune moment. Many of their senior officers passed through our hands, and their men, fine, big fellows, in large numbers.

Thomson and I were in charge of our dressing station at the "Five Towers" from 9 a.m. yesterday till noon to-day, and were busy the whole time, except from about 1 to 5 a.m. to-day, when we lowered ourselves into a trench and tried to sleep.

Last night I started to go as far out as possible with five stretcher squads, but in the dark it is difficult to move, nearly every spot is taken up by men, horses, and transport, and you are continually challenged by sentries. After showing our men across a brook with a dark lantern, some others crossing with stretchers asked for a light, and as soon as I threw a flash on the water a bullet whistled past me from a sniper who must have penetrated our front line. I heard the whistle of many a bullet at close quarters yesterday, and to-day big shells have fallen on all the four sides of our dressing station, coming from Achi Baba.

Yesterday when the battle raged at its worst a telegram was handed to me, and read: "Good luck and fondest love—Mabel," and the date was April 2 (March 16 it should have been). This had followed me all the way from Avonmouth where it failed to find me as I was leaving for this expedition.

The amount of horrors Thomson and I came through yesterday and this morning was most sickening and depressing to both of us. The Australian Aid Post was a perfect shambles, about an acre of stretcher cases, horrible wounds, and all the surroundings soaked with blood. But such brave fellows!

May 10th.—We were very busy last night erecting tents for wounded, being the overflow from the casualty clearing station, which, along with the hospital ships, is absolutely full. We had sixty-seven to find shelter for and succeeded. Two died during the night, and nineteen more in other parts of the camp. Thomson and I were still on duty and we were busy changing dressings, setting fractures, etc., up to 2 p.m. to-day, when an order came to evacuate completely to a hospital ship which had arrived. Welcome news! This gave us an afternoon's rest which we much needed. I spent the time making "couples" for our dugout, which was arched over before with two stretchers interlocking at a slope.

The chief topic of conversation to-day is the brilliant dash of the Australians on the 8th, in their bayonet charge over 300 yards of ground without cover. The Turks with five machine-guns mowed them down, but they dashed on. Their casualties were about 2000. We were all eager to assist them, their own Ambulances being unable to cope with the work.

May 11th.—What we know as "Helles" is the point of the peninsula as far north as Achi Baba. It is five miles long, and varies from two to four in width. The whole valley is saucer shaped, with a more or less complete high edge, except at a small part on the Dardanelles side, where the land shelves to the sea at Morto Bay, this low lying part being moist and fertile, with fairly heavy timber and huge downy topped reeds 12 feet high. Across this valley there has once been an aqueduct—perhaps centuries ago—the "Five Towers" being the remains of the structure. While Achi Baba remains in the hands of the enemy there is not a safe inch in what we occupy, the whole being within easy gunfire.

Thomson and I are at present at the Five Towers Dressing Station for twenty-four hours' duty. From the amount of heavy gun ammunition that is being hurried past us we expect a heavy bombardment this afternoon, with a repetition of the trying work we had when last on duty.

A Frenchman has just come into our station with half a loaf under his arm. Great excitement! We were all willing to purchase it at any price, but he handed it over to one of our men who had been hobnobbing with him in the morning. All are deadly sick of army biscuits, the only form of bread we have, hard as the nether millstone and tasteless. The only decent food we have is McConnachie's ration of meat and vegetables, which is excellent cold or hot, or as soup.

7.30 p.m.—Had a weary day—little doing. Thomson in very low spirits, thinking everything is going wrong. News we get from a padre is that in France everything goes badly. Pirie, M.O. to the Lancs, has just looked us up and reports no progress here. We are certainly making little speed, and it is now announced, whether correctly or not, that Achi Baba is to be besieged into submission by starvation if necessary, owing to the great loss of life a direct attack would entail. In the afternoon I went out with a few bearers to the Lancs. Aid Post to find they had gone into reserve for forty-eight hours, a rest they much needed. Shells were coming fast and furious round us, a battery we had to pass being the object of attack. Two big shells fell very near our dressing station this afternoon, a pile of stores being taken for ammunition boxes, the first shell landing among these with terrible crash, and destroying a lot of jam. Rather a hot bombardment of Krithia goes on to-night, while a number of Tommies are enjoying a game of football close to our camp.

May 12th.—At 8 p.m. yesterday a message reached us that the 29th Division had been withdrawn to give them a much-needed rest of forty-eight hours. We accordingly packed up and returned to our camp at W. Beach, and lucky for us we did, as it rained heavily during the night, and we had shelter against showers in our dugouts. On the whole very little fighting went on to-day till 6 p.m. when our big guns all along the line bombarded Krithia and the face of Achi Baba.

When studying our camp fires this morning before daylight I concluded that we really had made but little progress since April 28, and a Lancs. officer I saw this afternoon agrees with this conclusion. Still we are said now to have about 100,000 men here, while I cannot believe the enemy has anything like that number, but while they are on the defensive, with their well-planned trenches and the best positions, and possessing, as they do, a large number of machine-guns, the cost in life entailed by an open attack would be very costly to us.

Three shells giving out coal-black smoke, and bursting with a terrific crash, were fired at our beach to-day, but, as far as I know, without damage. They all burst high in the air and with an unusual sound. (The first of the "Black Marias" or "Jack Johnsons" although we had been accustomed to other forms of high explosive shells.)

The following "special order" from General Sir Ian Hamilton of to-day's date came this afternoon: "For the first time for eighteen days it has been found possible to withdraw the 29th Division from the fire fight. During the whole of that period of unprecedented strain the Division has held ground or gained it, against the bullets and bayonets of the constantly renewed forces of the foe. During the whole of that long period they have been illuminating the pages of military history with their blood. The losses have been terrible, but mingling with the deep sorrow for fellow-comrades arises a feeling of pride in the invincible spirit which has enabled the survivors to triumph where ordinary troops must inevitably have failed. I tender to Major-General Hunter-Weston and to his Division, at the same time my profoundest sympathy and my warmest congratulations on their achievement."

"(Signed) IAN HAMILTON, General."

May 13th.—Resting all day—but already have had enough of the prescribed forty-eight hours' rest. It was besides rendered uncomfortable by a very hot shelling in the afternoon. It is said the Turks have placed a new disappearing gun in position, which is doing this, and is firing high explosives with jet black smoke. They have our range to an inch from Achi Baba. At least twenty-four shells were fired at our Beach with a very creditable bag—three men killed, two mortally wounded, twelve severely wounded, and about fifteen horses and mules killed. I saw the remains of some poor brutes that had been standing in a group when a shell fell among them. There was really nothing left but a large red patch. Numerous pieces of shrapnel fell among our tents. A piece whistled between Thomson and myself on our way to attend a wounded officer near the lighthouse.

Later in the day I heard the Turk had got a larger mixed bag than I have stated. I now hear as a fact that sixty-four horses and mules were killed on our Beach.

H.M.S. "Goliath" was sunk by a torpedo at the mouth of the Dardanelles at 2 a.m. to-day; 200 are said to have been saved which means a death-roll of 500 or 600.

We hear that one, if not three, German submarines have passed Malta. The big fleet lying off the coast has always been brilliantly lit, but to-night all are in absolute darkness, except the hospital ships which are still showing their long rows of green lights.

May 14th.—The shelling we got yesterday has made us all think, and we all set to to-day and dug ourselves in deeper, the wagons going to Sedd-el-Bahr and bringing beams and boards from the ruins, and with these we are to make roofs strong enough to resist splinters. By 3 p.m. some of us had nearly finished and were getting disappointed that our funk holes were not being put to the test. By 4 o'clock we got more than we wanted, then before 5 one of our aeroplanes came to grief immediately behind us. Then commenced a terrible cannonade on this new target, and one big shot alighting just inside the entrance of one of our operating tents it was blown into tiny shreds, and ten stretchers were riven into matchwood. Strange to say, although this was in the middle of our camp not a soul was injured. The excitement was of course great, every little bit of shell and every tatter of the tent were carefully gathered to be kept as souvenirs. Three men and a number of horses had been killed in the afternoon's work. Many of the shells to-day were bigger than usual and some think the "Goeben" is the culprit. She could easily fire from the Dardanelles over the east ridge of Achi Baba.

May 15th.—A quiet day in camp: little firing by either side; three "Black Marias" reached us—no damage; a Taube fired three bombs—still no harm. Rumour says one of our flying machines reports the Black Maria gun was silenced by our fire, and her ammunition blown up this afternoon. Her last shot was at 1 p.m. and it looks as if this might be true.

By evening rain clouds appeared in the north and I have been preparing my dugout for a wet night.

May 16th.—We have just returned from church parade which was held at 9.30, amidst a continuous rattle of rifles to the front, the booming of howitzers on the right and left, while just behind us lay the "Swiftsure," which had evidently got word in the middle of the service to open fire on some particular spot. Her guns roared till the concussion made the leaves of our hymn books flutter. While writing a Jack Johnson fell very near me (so close that in my original diary my pen made a big dash across the page). How helpless one feels! Now comes another in the very middle of W. Beach—a very big fellow too—and still another. We are to have a day of it. Eight of these brutes now in a few minutes.

The C.O. has gone to a meeting at H.Q.; all the other officers are wisely at the edge of the sea under cliffs, while I am in my dugout too lazy to join them—but I may be forced to go yet, it is folly to sit here in the line of fire.

Major Ward of the 88th Field Ambulance, which is alongside us, has just taken a photograph of a bursting-shell at 70 yards, which he joyfully declares is "absolutely it". He got well battered with flying dirt.... The shelling got too hot for my continuing my notes and I was forced to close for a short time.

Here we are shut up in the very point of Gallipoli, 100,000 of us, and nearly as many horses and mules, every inch within easy range of the enemy's guns, and for three days now he has peppered us more furiously than at first. For three weeks and a day we have had an almost continuous roar of cannon, sometimes many hundred shots per minute, at other times with a lull of a few minutes. To-day and last night the howitzers have been unusually busy, and I believe an attempt is to be made this coming night to straighten our lines. The horns of the line, especially the left, which is held by the Gurkhas, is too far forward for the centre. This centre is directly opposite Achi Baba, and is exposed to the whole opposing line, and has less help from the fleet than the flanks. It is held by the flower of our troops, and these will make any sacrifice to do what is expected of them. May we soon have a little more breathing space than this fouled little piece of the peninsula affords us.

May 17th.—Three different spells of Black Marias to-day. One killed three men and wounded nine. We have several others wounded and a number of horses and mules killed. Altogether not a very pleasant day.

In the afternoon Thomson and I went to Sedd-el-Bahr and photographed the "River Clyde," Major Frankland's grave, the whole of V. Beach, etc., and brought back shell cases of the French 75's and 65's. Before this, while helping Pirie to build his dugout, Kellas shouted to me to look up, and I beheld what I at first took to be a huge flock of enemy aeroplanes, and expected a shower of bombs, but they turned out to be cranes—fifty-five of them in solid formation. They were an interesting and beautiful sight. They hovered over us for a considerable time, and two of our men stupidly fired several shots at them which got us into trouble with the powers that be. They had never taken into consideration the danger from dropping bullets where there was such a congestion of humanity.

The day has been fiery hot as usual, with the usual glorious sunset behind the mountains of Imbros. Yesterday Stephen and I studied the Plain of Troy, the monument of Ajax, and the town of Troy itself—the old and the new—all of which are visible from the rising ground behind Sedd-el-Bahr.

May 18th.—Black Marias paid their visit earlier than usual, three bidding us good morning at 6 o'clock. All got into our clothes at once, so that now at 7 p.m. we have had a long day. Curiously these "coal boxes" have not been seen since, and they never trouble us after this time of night.

About an hour ago I was watching one of our ships shelling a gully I once visited on a memorable night, and got into a shallow trench and watched from there. I was out in the middle of the valley where I could easily be seen from Achi Baba and a shell came singing straight at me. All the time shells had been passing high over my head but my ear at once detected the change of flight and that a low one was certainly coming my way. I had just time to throw myself flat in the trench, which was about eighteen inches deep when the shell burst in a straight line for me. I raised myself intending to bolt when I heard the song of another at its heels. I again fell flat, but as soon as it burst still nearer than the last I sprang and was just on my feet when a third burst three or four yards to my right. The concussion and shower of earth and stones sent me flying, and I peeled the palms of both hands and sprained my right wrist. Then I made a sprint for my funk hole at record speed, arriving quite out of breath after covering about three-quarters of a mile. I felt that turning a big gun on a solitary individual was not playing the game. I was wearing a waterproof cover to my cap which had got bleached almost white, and I may have been taken for some "big pot," as I sat on the edge of the trench with this unusual head dress, peering through my glasses.

May 19th.—Am feeling very tired, the result of my bad tumble, and my wrist feels stiff and tender. No doubt my behaviour made the Turk think I was a superior officer and worth a shell or two. With my glasses I had examined very carefully the whole length of the lines, then stepped into a half-filled-in trench and sat on the edge for some time, watching operations at the gully I have mentioned. The second shell was so near that I felt certain the third would have me. A fourth shell followed and burst, but by this time I had picked myself up and was at full gallop, and paid no heed to its whereabouts. The whole four were fired in five or six seconds. (I got the fright of my life; I felt that they were determined to have me, but the fright was entirely due to the fact that I was alone. Never before or afterwards did shells, however near, cause me the slightest discomfort.)

A camp story has it that a mule had to be shot the other day because its cry was so confoundedly like the sound of an approaching shell and caused needless alarm. This is presumably only a story, but it is extraordinary how often one fancies one hears the song of a shell. One day just before tea we were treated to a Jack Johnson, and during our meal in the tent those of us who had not made off to our funk holes ducked at every sound under the table, or behind a biscuit tin or any other flimsy object utterly useless to give cover. Each time we raised our heads we had a good laugh at our stupidity.

Those in the firing line are pitying us at the base to which nearly all the shells are directed. Padre Hardie (afterwards V.C., D.S.O., M.C.) told me he had a major to tea the other day when the Jack Johnsons started, and he bolted in the middle of tea, saying he could not stand the life here, and made off to the firing line which he thought much safer.

I asked a man to-day if he kept a diary. "No," he said, "there's naething to say, I dee naething bit sleep, jink shells, and rin to the Beach." It is amusing to see the "Beach Subdivision" move off when the shells start, all pretending they are off for a quiet stroll, and saunter away with their hands in their pockets.

May 20th.—Still in reserve and absolutely idle. I was up early, being requested by an officer of the 88th Field Ambulance to view his tent which one of our water-carts had backed into and upset a number of boxes of breakables, which he was terrified to look into, especially one which contained several bottles of whisky. This gave me a long day, and as a heavy cannonade was in progress it gave me an opportunity of watching it. We have had no heavy shells at W. Beach (now known as Lancashire Landing in honour of the brilliant work by that battalion on April 25) so far, but we must not brag, they may give us a visit to-day yet. Shrapnel we have had—but we do not care twopence for shrapnel.

6.40.—We have had no shells since I wrote the above, for which we are thankful. When examining the situation before breakfast I felt that the whole valley up to Achi Baba was to be ours before night. Advances all along the line have been made, some units having gained about 700 yards, the French also taking a trench which they afterwards lost. This is the usual way with the French, they have repeatedly broken our line across the peninsula.

The Turks have to-day used their heavy guns much more freely than on any previous day, and doubtless have inflicted considerable damage on our troops, but the range they have been firing at pointed to their having removed their guns further back, which points to their expecting to lose Achi Baba, which they have certainly held with the utmost fortitude. I am attributing the peace we have had to-day at Lancashire Landing to this fortunate event, if my conjecture is right.

I visited the "River Clyde" to-day to find she has a number of new holes punched through her, those on the water line having completely flooded her. Her stern now rests on the bottom, and the lowest hold is full of water. All this time only one shell has actually burst inside the ship, and it entered a cabin on the starboard side, blew all the fittings to pieces, chunks flying through everything, some entering the engine room where they perforated and carried away pipes, and blew the roof of the cabin off. An officer showed me the effects of the rifle and machine-gun bombardment on the night on which I spent four hours in a boat and watched the thousands of bullets striking fire over my head. Many had actually perforated the steel plates, 9/16th-inch thick, and there were deep dints innumerable. We had twelve machine-guns on board that memorable day, the one in the bow being managed by the son of the Earl of Leicester. This gun was said to have done brilliant work. A large pile of empty cartridges still lies where the gun was posted, and I carried away a few of these as the only memento I possess of April 25, barring the memory of a hellish day and night.

To-day we felt that we were probably beyond the reach of the enemy's big guns, and a load is apparently off every one's mind. Many sang late into the night, and various hilarious games were indulged in, the one giving most fun being a bull fight, where one man held the end of a string about three yards long and tied to a peg, and carried a jug with a stone as a rattle, the other with a similar string having as a weapon a small bag stuffed with hay. Both were blindfolded, and the man with the bag let fly at the spot he thought the sound came from, the hit being usually many yards wide of the bull.

The casualties among the Turks up to May 8 are said to number 40,000. Since then the Australians have accounted for another 7000. To the present date the total is probably not less than 60,000. We ought to be well enough pleased with our work.

May 21st.—Had a walk round Tekke Burnu, the S.W. point of Gallipoli, where we have two 5-inch field guns. An officer to whom I spoke said he was the first to locate the whereabouts of the gun that threw the Jack Johnsons. We had all guessed from their whistle that they came from the right ridge of Achi Baba. Two of the shells fired at this battery failed to explode, and this man had the holes carefully exposed for their whole depth, and two poles placed in these pointed exactly to the same spot. Each of these shells had penetrated to a depth of 8 feet in very hard clay.

May 22nd.—About 1 p.m. there seemed to be a strange stir among our transports. I noticed no fewer than six make off in a body towards Lemnos, while Thomson remarked that a destroyer had been going backwards and forwards among the shipping off the point of the peninsula. We did not guess the reason of this till all at once I noticed a warship fire a shot towards Imbros. This was followed by others, and the splashes showed they were firing at something in the sea, no doubt an enemy submarine—which proved to be the case. About six shots in all were fired. Three destroyers were flying about in all directions, absolutely at full speed. Two turned and made for the spot where the submarine had been seen. It is a beautiful sight to see these boats turn in their own length when at full speed. From the rocks at Tekke Burnu I watched for two hours the manoeuvres of these and four warships. An anxious night will be spent by our naval brethren. Several other transports have disappeared and gone to the safe anchorage of Lemnos. A large four-funnelled French steamer had just arrived with troops who had no time to disembark, and she has turned tail and gone after the others.

May 23rd.—1.15 p.m. Am sitting near the top of "The Gully". This runs north and south on the west side of the peninsula. I am at a spot slightly north of Krithia, and in the very middle of our firing line. All the tops of The Gully, on both sides and along its ramifications, are lined with our men and all are blazing away at the hardest, while the Turks bullets keep up a constant whizz over our heads. The Worcesters have just gone into the trenches to relieve some other unit. One of the Hants men I have been sitting beside and talking to was in our hold on the "River Clyde" when we landed exactly four weeks ago. He tells me how gloomy his battalion was over the death of their C.O. that day—Colonel Smith-Carrington, "a grand fellow, the best man that ever lived," as he put it.

Wearying to death after twelve days of idleness I set off after church parade to visit the Hants Dressing Station where I knew Pirie was placed. I went along the Krithia road till I came to The Gully I once reached late one evening, when Thomson and I were sniped at. Here I chanced to meet my old cabin companion, Balfour, who directed me to the very top of The Gully where I came across a battery which again directed me further to the left. Here three bullets flew past me, a gunner saying these stray bullets were doing a great deal of damage. Balfour also told me that they had lost two men yesterday from the same cause.

At last I reached The Gully which is several miles long—over three—and averages 100 yards in width at the top. All the slopes are one solid mass of shrubbery—laurel, juniper, dwarf conifers, holly oak, and brilliant flowers innumerable. I brought back a bunch of Cytisus whose individual flowers might have been our broom (C. Scoparius).

A road has been made the whole length of The Gully, and the whole way is occupied by our troops, especially Indians, many of whom were engaged in their ablutions as I passed. The sides of The Gully would average 100 feet in height, many parts being higher. The sides slope steeply in parts, in many places are quite perpendicular or over-hanging, the walls being the usual hard, marly clay, while I noticed broad layers of conglomerate and sandstone also occur. I was charmed with the whole place, and when describing it at the mess I was thought to be romancing. The heat in the depths of The Gully was very intense and without a breath of wind.

May 24th.—A little rain fell in the morning, and it was more or less cloudy during the day. We watched a fierce thunderstorm, which came round the south side of Imbros, up its east side, then it turned west towards Samothrace. Much shelling to-day, but mostly short and some way from our camp. I hear of no damage.

May 25th.—Had another walk to-day to the top of The Gully with Kellas, Agassiz, and Thomson. Plenty of shells over our heads. Twenty-six shells were fired this morning at several aeroplanes that had landed on our aerodrome. Two were more or less damaged, one with a hole through its petrol tank.

As we were returning from The Gully and were ascending the high bank of Gully Beach I saw something was wrong out at sea, three or four ships being apparently huddled together in one mass. Through my glasses I saw the stern of a ship in the air, preparing for its final plunge to the bottom of the sea. In three minutes or so she had entirely gone. Strange to say what we had been watching was the last of the "Triumph" which had been torpedoed by the submarine that caused the excitement the other day. She is said to have sunk in twenty minutes. We have not yet heard how many perished in this most regrettable disaster, but if it is true that her magazine blew up, as we hear, the loss will likely be heavy. H.M.S. "Triumph" did much useful work out here. This is the second warship we have lost since we arrived in Gallipoli.

May 26th.—Yesterday we opened a dressing station one and a half miles up the Krithia road. It was the duty of Fiddes and Whyte to be posted there for twenty-four hours, beginning at 3 p.m., but the latter having been kicked by a horse yesterday I offered to take his place. I am there now sitting on the edge of a deep funk hole which I have strewn with a thick layer of thyme, meaning to have a pleasant night between "lavender sheets," but I am told by Stephen and Thomson that there is no sleep to be had out here owing to the terrible din that goes on. At present—7.30—there is a violent interchange of shells going on, the enemy's mostly flying high over our heads on the way to our Beach. The aerodrome beside it has been very furiously attacked during the last two days with considerable damage.

Beside us is the grave of a Turk who smells as all Turks do. Our men, I fancy, think they do not deserve much burial. This reminds me of a Turk on the top of whose grave I lunched with Pirie up in the firing line last Sunday. A man the day before was digging a funk hole, and coming on something soft he plunged his spade into it. The smell was so terrific that he threw his spade and bolted, and the Turk had to be covered up by sand thrown from a distance of several yards. Then the night before one of our men, when it was getting dark, saw a suspicious object slipping down the side of The Gully, as he thought, so he proceeded to stalk it through the dense shrubs that clothe all the slopes of The Gully, and, on getting close enough to get a view of it through the bushes he recognised the Turkish uniform and sprang on the man like a tiger driving his bayonet clean through him. The Turk had been dead for nearly a month, and his assailant, like the other man, had to make a hasty retreat.

We are to have a very lively night, that is evident. The Turks usually cease firing their big guns by this time of night, but their shells are still flying thick. The British guns are at present quiet, but the French 75's are barking furiously. It is a delight to hear their sharp, clean bark. The enemy's machine-guns have also been very active this afternoon, the crack, crack, crack, of the Turkish one being easily distinguishable from the noise made by ours. The day of our landing taught me this.

May 27th.—I must have slept three or four hours last night, but not soundly. There was constant rifle fire beside us with one big fusillade before midnight. But what annoyed me was the smell of the thyme and other sweet-smelling herbs I had made a bed of, covering all over with a new rubber ground sheet which was very odoriferous. The mixture of odours was not pleasant. I had trampled the plants with my boots to produce as strong a smell as possible, and succeeded so well that it actually made my eyes smart all night. I rose early and was over near Gully Beach about 6 o'clock. Since then shells have been flying on our four sides and high in the air, and I hear of considerable damage.

We are much upset by the news which reached us at 7.45 that at 7 another of our ships had been torpedoed, lying just off our Beach in full view of all there. It is rumoured that it is the "Majestic," but her name we are not yet sure of. The men who brought this news out to us say they saw the men on board line up before she went down, and dive into the sea. Terrible news!

May 28th.—Back at W. Beach. What we heard yesterday about the "Majestic" was only too true. She lies in front of our camp, about 300 yards from the edge of the cliff, a considerable part of her still above water. There is much discussion as to what part of her it is that is visible, but it appears to me to be the keel, certainly the ram is there. The killed and drowned are between fifty and sixty. Several I have spoken to distinctly saw the wake of the torpedo for many hundred yards. The "Majestic" was lying in the midst of other shipping—only supply boats of no great size, besides trawlers and destroyers, but a gap must have been left and through this the torpedo had found its way. The Admiral and Ashmead-Bartlett were both on board. The latter was on the "Triumph" when she went down two days before.

The "Majestic" was able to fire five shots at the submarine when she rose to find her bearings, which she did about a mile off, but whether struck or not she managed to discharge her deadly bolt, which went home right amidships, and in about eight to ten minutes the "Majestic" turned over and sank. Her torpedo nets were out, and as many were scrambling up the side of the hull, as she turned over, the nets on the starboard side swept right over, and must have accounted for many deaths.

It is said that the form of torpedo used is most efficient at ranges of 3000 yards or more, this long distance being necessary to get up full momentum. One of the camp sanitary men, who tells me the story, was on the beach as the men swam ashore, and one sailor was no sooner on his feet than he said: "It was time the damned b—— was down; she was twenty-five years old; any of you chaps got a clay pipe, I am dying for a clay pipe"—all said in one breath. The "Majestic" is said to have been built in 1902 and was an old boat, but her armament was quite serviceable.

An enemy aeroplane crossed over our heads at 7.15 this morning, and dropped a bomb, presumably at our C.C.S. and just missed it. Three men were standing near; all were knocked over, one dying soon after.

May 29th.—This forenoon I walked out to White House Farm, which is about 3 or 3-1/2 miles up the centre of the valley, and is within a few hundred yards of our firing trenches. It was rumoured in the evening that these front trenches had been taken by the Turks. At the White House there is the finest specimen of a fig tree I have yet seen, being large and spreading, and growing in a piece of good turf beside a well. In that part the whole ground is strewn with bullets.

May 30th.—I have not been out of camp to-day. The men in our dressing station came in at 3 a.m. with a long tale of the fury of the shelling out there, many casualties occurring round it. Evidently there is no better place to be had, but the part devoted to the wounded runs in such a way that it can be directly enfiladed by gun and rifle fire from Achi Baba. Another trench at right angles to this could easily be broadened and deepened to hold all the wounded and a whole tent-subdivision.

Three shots were fired from our battery on Tekke Burnu about 6.30 p.m. and at once all the destroyers darted out to sea. Evidently a submarine had been sighted. It is now getting dark, and the sea is covered with our mosquito craft darting about in all directions.

We employ several hundred Greeks, mostly road making. They receive 2s. 6d. a day and their food. All those working at the Beach struck work to-day, demanding higher wages, and retired to their shelter holes in the cliff. A company of Dublin Fusiliers was called out, and fixing bayonets they kicked the mutineers out of their holes, and all were driven into a corner at the foot of the rocks, the open side shut in by a line of bayonets, and there they are to be kept, without food and water till they come to their senses. The Greek nation has always been greedy, always unreliable, and the most notorious liars on the face of the earth.

May 31st.—This has been a very quiet day, the Turks and ourselves having fired comparatively few shots. Although there has been no hard fighting lately, really little more than sniping, we still have a casualty list of some size. Those leaving for treatment on the boats or at the base hospitals of Malta and Alexandria have a daily average of about 125. This includes sickness as well as wounds.

June 1st.—There was much noise last night after all, there being much gun and rifle fire, especially on our centre, but with few casualties, as far as I can learn.

It has been known for two days that the Turks are to make a determined attack on us to-night, for which we are no doubt fully prepared. Since 5 this evening both sides have been very liberal with their shells. Krithia and its neighbourhood, as well as the right ridge of Achi Baba, has been reeking from the discharge of our and the French shells.

It is said that the Turks and Gurkha trenches are so near each other at the top of The Gully that the two are connected by a tunnel through which they hobnob, and that the Turks have asked the help of the Indians to murder their German officers, then they would hand over the Dardanelles to us without further trouble. A mere story of course, although one firmly believes that it is these savage officers who are forcing the Turks to fight, under threats that they will shoot them if they refuse to go forward.

A few shrapnel shells were fired half an hour ago at the top of our Beach, in resentment of our Ambulance men gathering on the sky line to watch the shells bursting on Achi Baba. This made them beat a hasty retreat. But on the whole the day has been very quiet.

June 2nd.—It appeared in "Orders" to-day that we held an advanced dressing station 100 yards on this side of White Farm, and as no one understood what this referred to, the C.O. after consulting with the A.D.M.S. (Col. Yarr), who could throw no light on the subject, asked me to go out and investigate the ground to see if such a station might be established there. As a big engagement is anticipated within forty-eight hours such a place would be useful. I started at 2.30 with Kellas and Agassiz who were going out to our present dressing station, but on reaching that they proposed to go along with me, as they had never been in that part of the country. All went well on the way out, only an occasional stray bullet being heard. On reaching "Y Battery," about 100 yards from White Farm a gunner joined us and took us quickly over the remaining short distance, where stray bullets are apt to be too plentiful. But worse, a sniper several hundred yards off had the exact range. He took us into a vineyard behind the farm, and pointed out to us all our advanced trenches, warning us not to shake the vines as that might attract fire, and on no account to show ourselves. We returned to this man's battery, and as soon as I started off with Agassiz the sniper had a shot at us, his bullet landing in a tuft of grass a few feet to our right. I thought it was some animal and proceeded to stir it out of the grass, but Agassiz declared it was a shot. In a second or two another kicked up a dust beside us, which settled the question. We scattered at once, but three other shots came after us before we got out of sight behind some small trees. From these we watched Kellas sauntering along, hoping he would also have to take to his heels, but the sniper left him alone.

I had next to visit the 88th Brigade H.Q. where I explained to General Doran that the spot mentioned for our dressing station was much too dangerous. He agreed at once, and said even where he was, on the side of rising ground with its back to the enemy, was unsafe, and that one of his sergeants had just been shot through the knee lying in his dugout.

June 4th.—To all appearances this is to be a great day. At 11 a.m. to the minute about 150 field guns and howitzers opened on the Turkish trenches, and now at 11.20 all is one great roar. Eight aeroplanes are circling about, two big battleships with seven destroyers appeared out of the haze, coming from Imbros. These are on the constant move, for submarines will be about for certain, and we must not give them more fixed targets, they have already had too many. Pandemonium will reign in a few minutes. We have waited long for this, and all are overjoyed.

I have been round the C.C.S. and Ordnance Stores collecting all the stretchers I can lay my hands on. Apparently we do not expect the Turks to be the only sufferers to-day.

12.10.—Achi Baba and the whole Gallipoli point reek as they have not reeked since April 25. The battleships keep moving and belching out their deadly hail, encircled always by the destroyers, while an aeroplane hovers, at a low height, over and around them, peering into the depths of the Aegean in case a submarine should come sneaking up. The French guns are very busy.

6.30 p.m.—Dressing St. Krithia Road. I came out here about two hours ago, with six squads of stretcher-bearers. We cannot advance yet, things are too hot, rifle fire being still a constant rattle, especially on our left. When I arrived the French were very active on our right, but judging from their comparative quietness now I think they may have seized at least part of a great gully which had been immediately in front of them all this time, and which has contained one or more Turkish batteries. These have annoyed the French for long—and us. The front of the hill is now fairly quiet, but we are firing huge shells into Krithia and that end of Achi Baba. We know from the wounded, who have been coming in for some hours in a steady stream, that our line is greatly advanced, some of our battalions having taken as many as five trenches.

About 8.15 I set off with thirteen stretcher squads to the dressing station of the 88th Field Ambulance, which we found two miles up The Gully. It was getting dark when we started, and was pitch dark, there being no moon, when we reached that point. The order we had got was to send up thirteen stretchers at once, and we interpreted this to mean the full complement of bearers as well, but these were not required. The great battle was still raging, and bullets were flying across The Gully in thousands. During the day there had been numerous casualties from these in the depths of The Gully. On the way back the whole place was packed tight with wagons of every description, and pack animals taking up ammunition and stores for next day, and it was often with the greatest difficulty we got through the blocks. Having to cross a level piece of ground from Gully Beach to our station, and this being swept by bullets, which were passing among us, we had many narrow escapes, but no one was hit. At our station, which was now in the line of fire for stray shot, we heard bullets pass all night long. A bullet went "phut" into the ground at my feet as I lay on a stretcher. I merely drew up my feet and tried to sleep, but being saturated with perspiration and generally uncomfortable I never even felt drowsy. Then about 3 in the morning a more resounding shot landed in the same spot as the last—both certainly within 2 feet of me. I now got up and sat till 6 in a corner more protected from the N.E. which appeared to be the direction of the bullets.