September 23rd.—As it was getting dark last night the A.D.M.S. ordered me to join the Lancashire Fusiliers at once, and to remain with them, they having no Regimental M.O. I hurriedly put everything necessary into my pack, and with Conroy, as servant, set off to the slopes of Hizlar Dagh. I reached my post in half an hour, and was assigned as my quarters a scraping in the earth not a foot deep. Here I spent a most wretched night, an icy cold wind blowing down the depression in the hill where the Battalion is encamped. I simply shivered and shook till the sun rose at 6 o'clock, when I felt too cold to wash and shave, but so did every one. I breakfasted with Lt-Col. Pearson and his Adjutant, Captain Johnson (killed three months afterwards), and at 10 held Sick Parade. The Turks can fire straight along our hollow, and General de Lisle made a wise proposal yesterday to run a long series of terraces crossways, each with a back about 7 feet high and a trench 7 feet wide in front. If this is continued to the foot there should then be room for 5000 troops. The Turks have not yet found us out, although they gave us a few shells yesterday, otherwise they could have made it too hot for us to continue operations. All have been busy to-day digging, picking, and quarrying stones, and already we have fairly safe trenches for one company. The Lancs., who have a large number of miners in their ranks, have been selected to do this, job, otherwise they would have taken up a position half a mile further back as was first intended.

In the afternoon I strolled down to our Advanced Dressing Station which is only half a mile off, at the foot of the hill. Stephen had walked out as far as this with me last night, and to-day I find the place in charge of Sergt.-Major Shaw. Agassiz had paid them a flying visit very early this morning on his way to the C.C.S., he too being sick. All our original officers are now away or at present ailing except Q.-M. Dickie and myself, and it looks as if he and I were to be left alone in a few days.

Later.—Had a note from Stephen saying Fiddes has gone off sick along with Agassiz, and that his own temperature is 101—this looks bright.

September 25th.—After writing the above two days ago, and about 10 p.m. when I had retired to bed, the Adjutant announced to me that another M.O. had been found and that I was to be relieved. This had been arranged owing to the shortage of officers in our Ambulance. I therefore left the Lancs. yesterday morning, Touhy, an Irishman, taking my place. I was enjoying myself thoroughly with the Lancs., and regretted this change as we were going into the front line in a day or two. Colonel Pearson is very popular with every man in his Battalion and is a most charming man, and I regretted leaving him.

Stephen went off sick to-day. Hoskin joined us yesterday, being detached from hospital work at Imbros. He is a good fellow, and eager for work and still more for excitement.

This morning I went up to our Advanced Dressing Station at the foot of the hill. It has now to be run without a permanent medical man. I saw the sick and wounded who had come in; took the Sick Parade of the London R.E.'s who are at present without an M.O.; returned and had our own Sick Parade; attended the sick in our hospital; saw several relays of Royal, Dublin, and Munster Fusiliers; returned to the dressing station at 6 p.m. and saw some fresh cases of sick and wounded; besides other duties, and altogether had an unusually busy day. Something of this sort will now go on daily until the D.M.S. sends us more officers.

There was fighting all along the line last night, especially about Anzac where we hear the Australians advanced half a mile.

The R.C. Padre who is attached to the Munsters, and has messed with us for the last week or so, leaves us to-morrow to our general regret. He is the most amusing man I have met in the army. Now that the hardiest of us, although we are still carrying on, are far from fit, and our spirits none of the best, we will miss him sorely.

September 27th.—I have had a very busy day especially at the dressing station. A messenger came from there a few minutes after midnight, and I had to go up to see some Munsters who had been wounded two hours before in a scrap with the Turks. As I tramped back alone in the dark (this is entirely against orders) the frequent ping of bullets was not too comforting, and as I neared our base several shells came about, at no great distance, when I found myself pushing my fingers inside my shirt to make sure that I had my identity disc round my neck, a habit I have got into when alone and in a hot corner. When I returned in the evening I found still another officer had been attached to us—Stott. The padre told us many amusing stones at dinner. He said he knew one of the Dewar family who always began his speeches with the remark that he was not a speaker but a "doer," and ended by saying, "I must now do as the lady of Coventry should have done, and make for my 'close'".

The Regimental M.O.'s are too lenient—that is my experience at any rate—and send too many away to the base hospitals, and to-day Hoskin and I returned ten of their cases to their lines, which we have the power to do. Probably 150 a day are leaving Suvla alone on sick leave, many with mere trifles, and a large number through sheer funk—I approve of getting rid of these, they are worse than useless, they cause panic very often. Last night we had two cases of acute insanity from this cause, both boys of nineteen, and to-day I sent off one of seventeen with the same trouble.

September 28th.—Last night about 7 a furious attack was made by the Turks which lasted half an hour. A gun behind Sari Bair, which has bothered us before, threw about twenty shells round our base, their objective being either the road in front of us, or the ships behind. Pieces were flying about in all directions. This was followed by a quiet night, only one shell going over us and out to sea about midnight.

8.15 p.m.—I have come out to our dressing station for the night, and am in a newly made dug-out, which has been deepened and heightened by myself since I arrived here three hours ago. Its back towards the enemy is 7 feet high, dug into a bank, with a high parapet of earth and a stone lined face. (It is never advisable to build with stone, a shell landing among stones can do a great deal of damage. In this case I could not do otherwise, sand bags were very scarce by this time, and it was with great difficulty we got any from the R.E.'s for the protection of our patients. A little after this date these stones of mine were sent flying.) It is of course open to the heavens where the stars are unusually bright to-night. It promises to be a warm night, the wind being S.W., very unlike what we have had of late when the winds were from the north and keen by night. Just as it was getting dark—before 7—I watched an aeroplane, evidently in difficulties from its low flight and with its engine knocking badly. It descended on a wide dusty road behind our base, when I expected the Turks to open fire on it, as they once did on a similar occasion at Helles, but they have left it in peace.

General Percival, our Brigadier, paid us a visit here a couple of hours ago, and I tried to get the date of our next stunt from him but failed. I admired his caution—if he knew. He tells me a special telegram came from Kitchener to-day announcing the capture of 23,000 Germans in France, and forty guns, and more coming in all the time.

One can do little here after dark—and so to bed. Between mother earth and myself is a ground sheet, near my feet my pick and spade, handy if I should feel cold and wish to do some digging during the night, as I may do when the moon rises about ten; beside me a miserable candle lamp and my revolver, and after getting into my heavy overcoat, with my pack for a pillow, hard though it is with mess-tin, jug and other such like material inside, and a blanket over my feet, I hope to get a few hours' sleep.

October 1st.—During the last few days I have been very busy at our dressing station preparing for the big attack which we know is near and to be on a big scale. We are told that next time we must push through and seize the Turkish lines of communication. We did some heavy work, and as I had been the Engineer of the alterations and earth works I felt responsible and was more on the spot than I would have been otherwise. I thoroughly enjoyed it all the same, and all the while did my full share of navvy work. We had large numbers of sick and wounded to see to at the same time, Hoskin and I seeing about 100 a day between us. I was roused one night to see a case of snake bite, the first I had seen or heard of out here—and I had my doubts about this case, although the man declared he had none.

We had orders the other day to change our base to a site well up the side of Hizlar Dagh, well back towards Divisional H.Q. where we should be fairly safe from gun fire, although in full view of the Turk, but we now have faith in his respect of the Red Cross. The winter rains are probably not far distant now, and here there should be no danger of being washed away. I am there now, our men having pitched two tents yesterday as an experiment to see if the Turks would leave them alone. Stott and I came up to it last night after dark. Everything is very simple—so much so that we had to forage to get some food. In my pack I luckily had a tin of cafe-au-lait and one of us had a mug so we stirred up a spoonful in cold water and both pronounced it remarkably good—as everything is when you are almost dying of hunger and thirst. Stott, a famous raconteur, contributed to our amusement with drawing-room stories till 11 o'clock when both fell asleep.

This morning I wandered out of our tent about 6.30 to find a very thick mist, the first time we had seen a trace of this. The tents were soaked and the ropes as tight as fiddle strings.

We had been here about ten minutes last night when a rifle shot went off behind some bushes beside us, followed by howls from some one in agony. A soldier lay on his back with his rifle beside him, his left foot merely held on by his puttee. We learned that at the end of the war he had to undergo some years of penal servitude for some offence, and his comrades, I see, are convinced that this was an intentionally inflicted wound. I have never before seen a man shoot off more than a finger or toe, carrying off a foot shows that the man has plenty of pluck of a sort.

October 2nd.—A terrifically hot day.

Everything seems to be upset to-day. We have been slaving and preparing for a big stunt, and now it is said that no such thing is in contemplation. In my opinion this change of plan is due to the position Bulgaria has definitely taken, or seems certainly about to take, in the present troublous times.

For some strange reason she has taken the side of Germany and Turkey. We must reserve our strength, according to a statement made by Sir Edward Grey in the House of Commons, as we have promised to assist Servia with troops should this eventuality come about. We half expect some of us will be withdrawn from here and landed in Greece or wherever it is most suitable for a march on the Bulgars. Many of us would go right gladly, the monotony of living all these months on a small patch of ground gets more irksome as time goes on.

I am now at the dressing station, having come out for twenty-four hours' duty. We have a collecting station, where we keep a few stretcher squads, half a mile in front of this, and this is to be withdrawn to a site near our old station in Azmak Dere, but slightly further forward, between the Green Pool (a filthy hole full of frogs and tortoises) and the end of a communication trench. I had to inspect the situation this evening, and marked off the boundaries, and to-morrow our men start to dig themselves in. The position is very exposed and I reported that I did not like it. Three artillery officers who passed said they were to plant a battery a few yards in front of us, and they thought the place anything but safe. However, the spot was chosen by General de Lisle and there is no getting away from it.

October 3rd.—Dressing station. I was up to-day at 6.30 and at once set to work with pick and spade, not stopping till breakfast was announced at 8, when Morice, the cook, brought me three huge slices of bread, two chunks of very fat bacon, and a mug of black dixie tea that had boiled for a full hour, all on such a lavish scale that at ordinary times they would have taken away my appetite; but not so to-day, I devoured the lot and never enjoyed a breakfast more in all my life. I next had a large Sick Parade drawn from twelve units, and returned to their duties several who were on their way to the C.C.S. with very trifling ailments. This will put up the backs of the Regimental M.O.'s, but in such serious times, with our numbers getting more depleted every day, manners must not be considered. I mentioned this subject to the A.D.M.S. to-day, and he backs me up and is to see what can be done to check this wastage.

Padre Mayne held a short service under the tarpaulin-covered space we reserve for patients, his congregation being twelve poor beggars on stretchers waiting to be sent down, and about twice that number of sick walking cases. The wounded tried to cheer up and suppress their groans, but these occasionally got the better of them. Then I returned to my spade and worked till 12.30.

I returned to our new base for lunch and am now sitting on the edge of a dug-out in the setting sun, which has annoyed us all day. It is a most glorious evening, not a breath of wind, and deep down below me the Aegean glistens without a ripple; all is at peace, except the big guns, and they are very busy, the ships having fired incessantly for the last two or three hours at the Sari Bair ridge. The Anzac guns are also very active. But the Turks are at present lying low and not making a single reply.

I was explaining the position of our collecting station to the A.D.M.S. to-day, telling him about the proposed battery in front of us, and the preparations to build a bridge over the gully just beside us. He had not heard of either of these, and he now thinks our site will have to be given up for one further back. To-morrow the C.O. and I go over to inspect the ground on this side and report.

Our magnificent dressing station, over which I have taken no end of trouble, is to be given over to the 88th F.A. Their Colonel jokingly thanked me for all we have done preparing for him—we give it up with regret.

October 4th.—The day opened with a violent bombardment about Anzac and the adjoining end of Sari Bair, this spreading gradually along the ridge to our right centre. The C.O. and I should have started for the centre of the line after breakfast but this journey had to be postponed till eleven, when there was again quietness, and before lunch we surveyed the ground already occupied by our men in digging, and other probable sites behind that in case we should have to retire further back. The position we do not consider good, but we can find nothing more suitable, and we examined the ground all the way back to Hill 10. The work must therefore go on as arranged. We passed Azmak Dere, the warm spot we held so long, and Col. Fraser had a look at it for the first time.

Col. Riley, D.D.M.S., to-day says we are to retain our present dressing station, and being Divisional and not Brigade troops, it does not matter which Brigade we serve. Still we hope in our present position to be able to attend the sick and wounded of our 86th Brigade, and are willing to take all others who come our way. The 86th have moved from our extreme left—where we are—to our right centre, hence the re-arrangement of Ambulances.

October 8th.—Daily writing of these notes gets monotonous as there is nothing much doing. Artillery duels are constant, and during the last few days the naval guns have fired more than usual. Occasionally a Taube flies over us and drops bombs, but such things are now not worth noting.

Four new officers joined us yesterday—Captain McLean, Lieutenants Russell, Campbell, and Hodgkinson, and to-day Lieutenant Fyfe, so that we now have ten medical men in our unit, or one over strength. Forty medicos landed at Suvla yesterday, fifteen at Anzac, and fifteen at Helles, and more are landing to-day. More than enough surely, but all units must be very short.

The Turks used poison gas to-day for the first time. Tomlinson of the Lancs., who told me his experience, says it made him feel sick and his eyes smarted, but his respiration was not affected. One or two men were overcome by it but none fatally. Curiously the evening before all our naval and field guns were bombarding Jeffson's Post, the front line of the Turks on Hizlar Dagh, and on climbing to the top of the hill behind our camp to see what was doing the smell of chlorine was well marked, although I was nearly a mile from the above place. The shells were bursting well over the Turks who had to fly into the open where our machine-guns got them. (The smell of chlorine probably came from chloride of lime somewhere near, this being much used as a disinfectant.)

October 11th.—The statement that the Turks used gas the other day now turns out to be false, it was ordinary lydite the Lancs. mistook for one of the new fangled German devices. My apologies to the Turks.

Yesterday we had a visit from General Sir Julian Byng, our Army Corps Commander (formerly in the 8th Army, we are now in the 9th). He roughly inspected our camp, and the C.O. being in undress and unshaved I had to take the party round. Sir Julian was complimenting the Turks on their straight fighting.

October 13th.—A day of intense cold after a still colder night. Last night while we were at dinner a terrific rain came on suddenly, and when I got over to my tent it was to find my bed soaked through, as was almost everything I possessed.

To-day we had a lecture on the hillside by Sir Victor Horsley on surgical wounds in warfare, mainly of the head. A very good lecture it was.

This afternoon one of our aeroplanes came down in the Salt Lake. It was well shelled and must be useless for the present. The two aviators were seen leaving it amidst a storm of shrapnel, one evidently getting hit, he was seen applying something white round his leg.

This is one of the great routes for the migration of birds. Yesterday and several times to-day I saw flocks of geese flying over our heads and steering south, likely on their way to the Nile and great African lakes. During last night they kept up a constant cackle as they flew over us.

October 14th.—Geese in large flocks are crossing to-day, mostly in V formation of twenty-five to thirty. A good many are in two V's and some of the largest flocks must number about 500. Many thousands must have crossed before 11 a.m. when they suddenly came to an end.

A shrapnel shell struck the back of my dug-out at the dressing station two nights ago, blowing all the walls down. Two of our new officers were in it at the time, one being rather badly hit on the head by a flying stone. He is besides badly shaken and has had to go to a hospital ship. The other was blown right into the trench in front, got well shaken up and had a hand cut, but he looks on it all as a bit of a joke.

October 15th.—I have been off colour for some little time, and I question if I'll be able to carry on much longer. Of the ten officers we had the other day only three are quite fit, and most of them landed but a few days ago.

October 16th.—This morning, about 4 o'clock, the orthodox hour for attacking being one hour before dawn, a furious gunfire opened on Sari Bair, which I got out of bed to watch. Many shells were bursting simultaneously all along the ridge and down this side of the hill. It is hard to say whether the Turks or the Australians were the assailants, but I noticed in the forenoon the Turks were shelling a spot near the bottom of a gully which crosses Sari Bair, and which a few days ago was in their own hands. All forenoon a most interesting shelling went on in these hills and foot hills, but after watching it carefully I cannot satisfy myself that there is any material change of position. The Turks and ourselves have fired many thousand shells to-day, and the Turks have kept the end of Sari Bair held by the Australians enveloped in a continuous smoke.

About three days ago the Turks had placed a new gun of large calibre in the line of Hizlar Dagh, and its huge shells come screeching over our heads on their way to Little West Beach at all hours of the day and night. Its first day's bag I hear was forty-one, and its second eighteen. This is the busiest landing place we have, men in large numbers embarking and disembarking all night long.

A Turkish aeroplane crossed over our camp about 10.30 a.m. flying so low that, when I heard it in my tent, I said to myself only one of our own machines could fly at that height. It must actually have gone right over an anti-aircraft gun on the top of Hizlar Dagh, almost immediately behind us, and before this fired a shot it was allowed to go nearly a mile. Then it opened fire and shells went after it in quick succession, but every shot burst, as is almost invariably the case, hundreds of yards behind it. The machine glided gaily along past the point of the bay, straight over the British lines to Sari Bair, rifle shots being fired in a regular fusillade. It turned, perhaps three miles from here, went to its right, came straight over the warships in the bay towards us, all the time flying at the same low elevation. It then went to the east right over our centre lines where all our infantry opened on it, but it never veered from its straight course. I was watching all this with an officer of the London Territorial Fusiliers, and asked if he thought there could have been 20,000 rounds fired, and after thinking a little he said there must have been twice that number. At least fifty shells also went after it. I hope the aviator got a V.C. or its equivalent on his return to his own lines. Our shell fire was atrocious; I felt so thoroughly ashamed of it that I hoped the Turks were not watching the puffs of smoke as the shells burst a good quarter of a mile behind their mark. When the machine came within range again on its return journey the anti-aircraft gun opened fire on it again and did no better than at first, but at the very end there was a distinct improvement. I can't think how all these shots at such a short range could have missed a vital spot. The man's sailing over us a second time was the coolest act I have ever witnessed, and I would have been sorry to see him drop.

As McLean was coming in from the dressing station after dark last night two bodies of troops passed each other, a sergeant of one shouted to a ditto of the other, "Are you the West Ridings?" "No," was the reply, "we are only the bloody Monmouths walking."

Lt-Col. Fraser, our C.O., who has been ailing for some time, left for hospital to-day. This leaves me as C.O. of the Ambulance, Dickie and I being the only officers remaining of the original ten.

Up to the present time our losses are six killed (including one officer), two died of disease, and either twenty-four or twenty-five wounded (including two officers). (This is an under-estimate.) Sickness has also been excessive, and we cannot have more than a third of our original men. We have had four drafts, mostly Englishmen.

October 19th.—Walked to our new dressing station this forenoon and examined "well thirty," this being by order of the S.C. of the Engineers of our Brigade. I was presented with a bottle of water thick with blue mud. Being intensely thirsty I adopted the only test available and drank it off, and promised to report if it had any bad effects.

In the evening another draft of thirty men reached us, this time from Swansea. Every man is turning up his nose at the thought of a Welsh detachment.

Had a long interview on many subjects with the A.D.M.S. (Lt-Col. J.G. Bell).

A large flock of geese crossed this morning, but I have seen none for the last day or two.

October 21st.—Preparations were made to meet a Turkish attack yesterday, which was some great feast or fast day with them; however, it did not come off. Dickie thinks such exertion on either a feast or fast day would have been a mistake. Then at night when there was a full moon we half expected this attack, and an Engineer officer at present at H.Q., who called to see me yesterday, said he was always to keep his boots on at night after this, as he said he had no faith in the troops we now have in our front line being able to check any sort of attack.

Another of our heroes, Nightingale of the Munsters, left for home yesterday in bad health, but greatly against his will. He pleaded to be allowed to go back to the trenches, but we were partly influenced by a letter from his C.O., who requested that we should give him a rest as he had been on the peninsula since the landing. Almost without exception those who get a chance to go home go with the greatest pleasure, and it is refreshing to come across one who is really not suffering from "cold feet". All are more or less ill I admit.

October 24th.—A particularly cold, wet and rough day. According to an article which appeared in the "Westminster Gazette," and was reprinted in our local "War Office Telegram," there is always a cold rough snap from October 20 to October 25. The first date was correct, and I trust the latter, which is to-morrow, will be as accurate, for we are miserable. Geese are crossing in very large numbers to-day.

The thirty Welshmen who were attached to us were exchanged for an equal number of the 4/1 Highland F.A. from Aberdeen. Our men had taken to the Welshmen and were sorry to part with them, especially as they were doing excellent work.

October 25th.—The above weather forecast was wonderfully accurate, the cold snap ran from the 19th to 24th. Yesterday opened rough, wet and cold, but later in the day the wind fell to an absolute calm and the temperature rose. To-day is ideal, not a breath of wind, a few fleecy clouds, and delightfully warm. Geese are flying south in thousands. Where do they all come from?—the lakes of Norway and Sweden, Finland and Northern Russia, or where? Their destination is no doubt that delectable country for the winter, Africa. Yesterday the A.D.M.S. thought I required a change and recommended me to go there also, but I refused absolutely. I prefer the hardships of Suvla and it may be the Balkans, to a life of ease and comfort in the hospitals of Alexandria. Had things not looked so bad here I might have accepted such an offer, but now that the outlook is as bad as could be, and the danger to ourselves gradually thickens, it is out of the question. Mackensen is said to be in Servia and pushing south rapidly. He has an army of 216,000, while the Servians can oppose them with only 80,000 or 90,000. French and British troops have been rushed north from Salonika, and we are in contact with the Bulgars, if not the Austro-Germans. All here expect to be ordered to the Balkans any day; at Suvla we are now being wasted, all we can do is to hold up the Turks which is not good enough.

October 26th.—We hear to-day that the "Marquette" which brought us from Avonmouth to Alexandria was torpedoed two days ago, on her way to Salonika. About 1000 troops were on board, and 600 are said to have been lost, including thirty nurses. The "Marquette" sent out the S.O.S. signal, but the submarine came to the surface and signalled, "No assistance is required".

October 28th.—Nothing much doing except artillery fire. According to evidence given by the Turkish prisoners our artillery fire does little harm, they are so well dug in, one Battalion putting its daily casualties at six. Yesterday about mid-day every Turkish gun opened fire on our trenches from the extreme right to the extreme left and along Anzac, and all at the self same moment. We wondered what it meant and whether it was preliminary to a wild assault all along our lines, which was to drive us into the sea; one would have expected something extraordinary to follow, but in less than fifteen minutes it was all over. No doubt they caught many of our men in the open, sitting smoking on their parapets and such like, and 100 or 200 may have been knocked out. We are continually being caught napping, and one shell often lands in the middle of an unsuspecting group and plays terrible havoc.

I see in G.R.O. (General Routine Orders) that General Sir C.C. Munro takes over command of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force from yesterday's date.

November 2nd.—The weather on the whole gets colder and more bracing, sometimes too much so, but by day it is occasionally uncomfortably warm. The Turks and ourselves keep shelling each other as of old.

I am now feeling so very much off colour that I know I ought to go home, but I am unable to tear myself away from Suvla in case I should miss the chance of going to the Balkans. Still, I am afraid I will be left behind if our Ambulance was to go. During the summer I had two months of dysentery. Since then I have never felt quite fit although I have carried on the whole time, and for the last three weeks I have had an attack of jaundice, of which there has been a very widespread epidemic. (This epidemic was afterwards proved to be Paratyphoid.)

November 7th.—For some days the weather has been perfect, bright and warm as midsummer, and the nights cool without being cold, but with dews heavy enough to drench the tents.

To-day we had the most deliberate shelling the Turks ever gave the Red Cross. So far they have shown us more or less respect, in fact no one could find fault hitherto; when shells came among us, there was always some excuse for it. To-day I think they must have been retaliating for some mischief our guns had unintentionally done to their Crescent. The 88th F.A. is encamped alongside us, and six big high explosive shells fell among the two of us, costing each of us a tent, but strange to say no other casualty occurred. All, including about sixty sick, made for our two big trenches which we made some time ago in case anything of this sort should happen.

November 8th.—A Medical Board was summoned for this morning for the examination of a well-known rascal, and being one of its members I had an opportunity of a talk with the President, our A.D.M.S., Colonel Bell. I represented to him that I had long felt I would be compelled to leave the peninsula, although much against my will, but after three months' illness my strength had got so undermined that I could stand it no longer. I took no care of myself, otherwise I might have felt better now, but since I landed on April 25, I have not been a day off duty. As Colonel Bell remarked, I should have left Suvla long ago. I am now writing on a hospital ship, trying to feel that I have done my bit.

Dickie, who also goes on sick leave, and I decided to go forthwith, so we packed up all our belongings. We boarded a lighter at the C.C.S. and came out to the hospital ship "Rewa". The evening as we came out was beautifully still, with a little haze hanging about the foot hills, chilly, and we were glad to put on our overcoats. I felt depressed at being forced to leave, and cowardly when I thought of those left behind; still on gazing around I felt astonished I had been able "to stick it" so long. The monotony lately has been very trying; living on a small piece of ground with the enemy in front and the sea behind, and no progress being made, could have been nothing else.

November 9th.—Went to bed early last night and had a. talk with Major Turner of the 53rd C.C.S. who was in bed alongside. Talking about our being shelled on Sunday he said his hospital was twice shelled, getting three shells each time, and they were informed, with apologies, by the Turks that they were retaliating. On one occasion one of our naval shells landed in the middle of a Turkish Ambulance. This confirms my theory that our shelling was an act of retaliation for something or other. Although the door and port-holes were open last night I was greatly oppressed by the closeness of the atmosphere, due to my revelling in the open air for many months.

November 10th.—We lay at anchor outside the boom of Suvla Bay till mid-day to-day, when we had got on board nearly 500 sick and wounded, and we set sail for Lemnos. Our boat is so coated with barnacles that her speed is reduced from 18 to 12 knots. Two monitors were firing at Achi Baba as we came opposite it. Each had two guns and the four were fired together. We passed close to one which gave a magnificent roar, the like of which I am not likely to hear again for many a day.

The sick officers occupy one table in the saloon, the Staff eating at a separate table. The latter a well-fed, happy lot, the others yellow and jaundiced, and looking very weary.

November 11th.—We reached Lemnos yesterday at 6 p.m. and anchored in the outer harbour with four other hospital ships and many transports. Our boat has orders to proceed to Alexandria and we are again on the move, leaving at 9 a.m. to-day.

November 13th.—We reached Alexandria at 11 a.m. taking fifty hours from Lemnos. On the pier at which we drew up stood a train refulgent in stars and crescents. This was soon filled, and passed off, into the unknown—likely Cairo.

Next, how was I to get a wire off? Quite easy, said some one. You see that lady along there with the green umbrella, that is Lady C—— who meets all boats and looks after such things. Lady C. soon gets off a bale on which she has been sitting, and stalks slowly down our way, gets a bundle of what turns out to be telegram forms and awaits the hoisting of the gangway, a great lumbering affair which it takes an army of multi-coloured Egyptians to shove along on its wheels. Then they swing it round, amidst great shouting in chorus, and nearly catch her ladyship's shins in so doing, but she is wide awake, jumps back, digs the hand that is not holding the green umbrella into her waist, her head jerks a little, and I can imagine she is consigning all these Egyptians to a certain place. She comes on board where all are very deferential, and she is asked to lunch with us but declines.

November 14th.—Ras-el-Tin Military Hospital. Towards evening several officers were brought to this hospital yesterday. We enjoyed our ride through the streets, all gay with the brilliant colours of the East. At last we entered a big gateway and landed in an exquisite garden. At the distant end of this is a tall lighthouse, the hospital being at the very point of a long promontory on the east side of the harbour entrance. The garden is full of palms and flowers of the most brilliant hues.

A medical fellow came round and gave me an overhaul this morning. He tells me my heart is dilated—hence my severe breathlessness. I was told I must go to England, but need not expect to get away for a fortnight or so. The hospital is very airy but uncomfortably warm.

November 18th.—I am already feeling much better. I have a wonderful appetite and am thoroughly enjoying the good things set before me. My weight is now 10 stones 1 lb., and I must have gained at least 2 or 3 lbs. since I left the peninsula. I am still over 2 stones under my usual weight. I took a walk half-way up the promontory to the Khedivial Palace where I hoped to walk through the gardens. I had seen in the papers that the Sultan was up the Nile, but the two Egyptian N.C.O.'s at the gate refused to admit me, one saying, "de Sultan is in Alexandria". "Nonsense," I said, "he is up the Nile." "No, no, no," said the black, "de Sultan is here," pointing over his shoulder to the palace.

November 19th.—At mid-day I was ordered to pack up as I was to start for home. At the docks I was put on board the "Rewa" where the officers and nurses greeted me as an old friend. I learned that our destination was back to Lemnos, where I would be trans-shipped to the "Aquitania" which is booked to sail on the 22nd.

We sailed in the afternoon. The sea is rough, spray splashing all over the ship, the windows of the music room have to be kept shut, and it is hot and stifling—and I melt.

November 21st.—We reached Lemnos to-day after a run of forty-five hours from Egypt, a distance of 580 miles. The object of the "Rewa's" trip to Alexandria was to get drydocked and have her hull scraped. We could have done the trip in a few hours less than we actually took, but all last night and to-day we have had a furious gale in our teeth, which made us drop 4-1/2 knots per hour. The decks have been swept by the waves all day, and the awnings blown down more than once. We now lie in the outer harbour, while the four great funnels of our next boat can be seen towering over the hills that form the south side of the inner harbour. The cold is intense.

November 22nd.—We spent the night at anchor outside the boom. They commenced to raise the anchor at daylight, but were stopped by signal, so that now at 10 a.m. we lie here waiting orders. The cold to-day is terrific. The wind is probably stronger than ever and goes whistling through the rigging. Our latest orders are to lie here till the gale moderates.

3 p.m.—During the forenoon the "Olympic" passed close to us as she entered the harbour, and is now anchored near the "Aquitania".

November 23rd.—We raised anchor about 7 and moved straight out to sea for 2 or 3 miles when we thought we were to go home on the "Rewa," which had been spoken about as possible, but it turned out we had only gone out to bury a man who died last night. We turned and were soon manoeuvring to get alongside the "Aquitania," but after very nearly giving her a bad bump we had to sheer off, and we have again anchored and wait for that tantalising wind to moderate.

In the afternoon we made another attempt to get on board the "Aquitania" and again failed.

November 24th.—After two hours fiddling about we managed to attach our fore and aft hawsers to the "Aquitania," and after breakfast we went on board our new home. This magnificent boat had 2300 patients last night and expects 2000 more to complete her load. She has a crew of 1000, thirty-six medical men and a large number of nurses. The "Aquitania" was at first a troopship and mounted four 6-inch guns, and has carried 7000 troops at a time, besides her crew. The distance from Lemnos to Southampton is 3080 miles, and with her proper coal, a mixture of Welsh and Newcastle, she has covered that distance in 4 days 18 hours. But for coal she has to rely mainly on the inferior stuff she picks up at Naples.

The fittings in the wheel house are most ingenious. For example, should fire break out the captain has only to open a cupboard which tells him where it is, and by touching a button he can flood any one of the six watertight compartments. A fan works automatically in this cupboard every five minutes, and if there is smoke in any compartment it is sucked up its corresponding tube. There are thirty-eight electric clocks on the ship, and as the time has to be changed continually as we go east or west, by moving the hands of a clock in the wheelhouse the hands of the thirty-eight move in unison.

We hear Greece has been presented with an ultimatum demanding her to come into the war on our side, otherwise to demobilise within two days. Another story says she has already joined the other side, and that our fleets have been engaged.

November 26th.—The Germans are at present accusing us of carrying troops and ammunition on our hospital ships, an excuse given out to the world for sinking the first good prize of the sort they come across. Of the sixty-four hospital ships we are said to possess the "Aquitania" would make the most desirable capture, and our most dangerous spot is the Aegean, from behind any of whose numerous islands a submarine lying in wait may dart out.

We are now approaching Sicily on our way to Naples. We cannot go through the Straits of Messina after dark, and our quickest and cheapest way is to anchor for the night, but the danger of attack prevents this and we have to go right round the island. We are doing about 20 knots against a stiff head wind. When pushed beyond this the consumption of coal is out of all proportion to the increase of speed, and being in no hurry they prefer to stick to what is called her economical speed.

November 27th.—I have been talking to an officer in the smoking-room who, like myself, was waiting for the library to open. He wished to hand in "The Life of Oliver Goldsmith," by Washington Irving. He says he is descended through his mother from Goldsmith, and he had taken out this book to find where Irving put his birthplace. "At Pallas," as he expected, "they all do so; even Johnson, who wrote his epitaph, made the same mistake." Goldsmith's father was rector of Pallas, and his wife had gone home to her parents at Elphin, in Roscommon, and it was here this great writer was born.

Naples Harbour. We arrived at this historic place at 6.15 p.m. We began to get in among the islands of the Bay between 4 and 5, but daylight soon began to fade and we did not get a good view of our surroundings. The first land we approached was Capri on our left, an island famed for its wines. On the other side was a small island, little more than a huge volcanic rock, with the gleaming white houses of a small town half-way to the summit. We could see Naples away at the top of the Bay, large houses all the way up the high rugged hills on which the town is built in the shape of a horseshoe. Behind the houses on the sea front rises mighty Vesuvius, her highest peak covered with snow, and belching out volumes of smoke which roll down the side of the hill and stretch out to sea in one big dense cloud. The whole town is most brilliantly lit, the glare of street lamps being a relief after Gallipoli.

We had some mild amusement to-day. These submarines are still a terror to those in charge of the ship. All the invalid Tommies are in hospital dress, trousers and jacket of light grey, and a brilliant red cotton handkerchief round the neck. All officers who wished to go on deck were ordered to wear this dress on account of the German publication that we carried troops, and if spies saw a lot of officers in uniform—and we'll have spies among the coal-heavers—there might be some faint reason for their pretended suspicions. After tea we donned our new garb, and about twenty of us collected on the wheelhouse deck. Out came a sailor who shouted, "No one but officers allowed here, away you go". Then in a few minutes out came another, "Now you privates, clear out of this; this is only meant for officers". The disguise was apparently complete, and the two poor sailors were the only ones who did not enjoy the joke. Our service caps were also forbidden, and we had all sorts of headgear. I had a long scarf wipped round my head in turban fashion and was said to be the worst looking ruffian of the lot.

It was bitterly cold on deck, and about 2 p.m. we had had a shower of hail. The hills beyond Naples are covered with snow.

November 28th.—On looking over the rail on my way to breakfast I found we were coaling at the hardest on both sides of the ship, barefooted coal-heavers, all at the gallop, carrying their baskets of coal from the barges and tilting them into shoots down among the lower decks. Bum boats, not unlike those of Malta, swarmed about the harbour, loaded with merchandise, such as oranges, tobacco, picture post cards, and beautifully finished models of mandolines and guitars, the vendors yelling at the pitch of their voices. Their transactions were carried on away down on E. deck, and even at that low level a bamboo rod twice the length of a fishing rod, with a bag at the end, had to be hoisted to reach their customers. You bawled out your order, put your money in the bag, and your goods appeared in a minute or two.

Another of our leviathans came in this morning to coal, the "Mauretania," a Cunarder like ourselves. She is a big boat but is dwarfed by the "Aquitania". I notice her bridge is on the 7th storey, ours is on the 9th.

The air is sharp but it is bright and sunny. Vesuvius and the magnificent city of Naples stand out clear in all their glory, and away to the north one gets a good view of the lofty Apennines, all with their peaks covered with snow, and over these the wind blows icy cold.

6 p.m.—We were allowed to tramp the boat deck in our hospital garb until mid-day when the O.C. the ship took it into his head to have us removed below. Now that it is dark we are allowed up again, and one is tempted, in spite of the cold, to remain there and admire the city which is a beautiful sight even at night. Vesuvius is in one of her quiet moods and gives out no glow from her crater. On the top of the hill behind the city is the Castle which reminds one of Edinburgh, and to the left of it towers Bartalini's hotel with its numerous storeys, a place where, an officer tells me, "you can get a hell of a good lunch, but you have to pay for it". There are trees everywhere among the houses. Many with tall, branchless stems and a spreading top, evidently of the fir family. Lombardy poplars and tall dark cypresses are everywhere.

Between us and this old Castle, at the water's edge, stands a lofty stronghold, black and forbidding, and I believe many atrocities were perpetrated here in the days of Garibaldi. Its high castellated battlements look as if they had a history.

We finished coaling about 3 p.m. and expected to get off at once, but no, the ship had snapped one of her cables and we could not sail until the 20 ton anchor and 50 fathoms of chain were fished up, and apparently this had not been done before dark, and we must now lie here till to-morrow. The harbour has a rocky bottom, and if an anchor catches behind a rock such an accident is apt to occur from a sudden jerk, and this is the second time it has happened to our boat in this self-same place.

November 29th.—Our whistle began its terrific row at 4.30 this morning. Its blasts are most unpleasant and seem to affect the stomach more than the ears. We began to circle round the "Mauretania" about 8, and by 8.30 we had cleared the breakwaters and were going down the Bay, the morning gloriously fine, almost a dead calm, and the houses and rocks sparkling in the sun. The whole forms a magnificent picture. "See Naples and die." We sailed close in to Ischia and we could see the terraces where the vines grow, beginning at the top of the perpendicular rocks and ascending the hill-sides like a giant's staircase. We pass a big liner flying the French flag, and she dips her stern flag as a salute.

At 8.15 p.m.—We passed Sardinia, but all that was visible was the revolving light of the lighthouse on the south point. There is now a strong gale, and we pitch and roll a good deal. But the wind is soft and warm, blowing from the African desert instead of the snowclad Apennines.

November 30th.—A beautiful day and warm.

I have been having a talk with one of our two captains of the ship. He tells me we have the most powerful wireless installation afloat, except on the big battleships. In Lemnos we can easily pick up the Poldhu messages, although our receiving distance is given as 2000 miles only. We can send out messages to a distance of 500 miles, but the only one allowed just now is the S.O.S. Between Lemnos and Sicily we received a message saying that submarines were operating all round Sicily, and the Consul of Naples warned the captain of another dangerous spot which we are at the present moment approaching. This boat was once fired at by a torpedo as she was entering Lemnos, and at the time was steaming slowly to let the "Mauretania" pass outwards, when another torpedo was fired at that ship, which also missed.

Our numbers on board are 3873 invalids, and the crew and all other staffs at least 1400, or a total of 5273. We have 106 boats, each capable of holding from fifty-six to sixty-nine, so that all could be accommodated in these—if we had time which is never the case in an emergency.

Noon.—Our wireless news for the day has just been posted up. There is nothing much in it except the news that "Sicily is literally besieged by German submarines". Germany says she has accomplished her immediate object in the Balkans, whatever that is, but I understood this was to join hands with Turkey which she has not yet done. Austria is said, on the authority of "The Tribune," to be asking for a separate peace, and at home, considering the reliability of this paper, they think there may be some truth in this.

December 1st.—The steward when he brought me tea at 6.30 this morning, said "Gib." was in sight. On looking out I could see rocks but not "the rock". But it soon appeared and I got hurriedly into my clothes and quickly swallowed breakfast and was on deck with my glasses. Here was the rock close at hand, a brilliant morning, the sun lighting up the side we were nearing, a big mushroom-shaped cloud floating on and obscuring the summit. This side is bare and black with its acres of concrete rain catchments, the only means of water supply. Last time I saw it it disappointed me, but now we headed straight round its projecting south point towards the harbour and had a glorious view of the razor-backed hill, the point bristling with guns, walls, and forts, and all along the west side buildings in white and ochre, with red roofs, all lit up in bright sunshine; plenty of trees about, palms and others, and green grass which is always a surprise to me after the barren peninsula. At the northern point of what is quite a large bay lies the harbour full of shipping, its one entrance guarded by a most powerful boom. The view all round is not much behind Naples—the rock with its large and beautiful buildings; across the bridge, connecting the rock with the mainland, the Spanish town; to the left the snow-white town of Algeciras, famed for its bull fights. Behind all the great towering, rugged mountains of Spain.

We lost two hours here waiting for orders, but by 10 we had turned our head for the Atlantic, and were soon going full steam ahead. The 970 miles from Naples we covered in forty-eight hours, at economical speed. Our speed and size dwarf everything we come up against.

Before sunset we passed a small tramp steamer which halted, as we also did, and for long signals were carried on between the two of us. The passengers were unable to read these, but they must have been very important when a ship like the "Aquitania" came to a dead halt.

At Gib. we had been told that a rumour had reached England, and appeared in the "Daily Mail," that the "Aquitania" had been torpedoed.

December 2nd.—The air is soft and balmy, a few drops of rain have fallen, but the lower clouds fly fast as if a breeze was brewing.

6 p.m.—We have had a stormy afternoon, a driving rain and a 50-mile gale as reckoned by the captain. As I came along a passage a cupboard door flew open and scores of dishes fell out with a crash. In the wards bottles and tables are flying all over the place. As I was steadying myself on deck the ship's whistle gave a blast that seemed unending. There was a rush from below to the boat deck, but as there was a thick haze we decided it was only a fog signal. "Fog signal," said the captain, "I call it a d——d fool's signal. This boy," pointing to a very guilty looking little chap, "placed his back against the whistle lever, and the d——d fool never noticed he was raising hell."

December 3rd.—All last night the rolling had been particularly bad, so much so that the ship is pronounced to be much too top-heavy. I had slept straight on till 5 and did not feel a particularly heavy roll at 2 a.m., which every one is talking about, and which had tumbled a lot of people out of bed. One old sailor says he got a terrible fright, he thought the ship would be unable to right herself from her great weight, and he fled on deck expecting the worst.

4.45 p.m.—A revolving light can be seen through the mist but must be many miles off. At 3 we had all been warned off the deck as a message had been received that we were again in a danger zone. We are now near our haven, and if that light is from the Needles another hour should take us there.

Later.—We anchored off the Solent as it was getting dark. In time a pinnace came alongside, presumably a pilot came on board, so we up anchor and are now moored inside the outer boom.

December 4th.—As soon as it was daylight we began to move, and went slowly up the Solent in a drizzle and thick mist; ships no end at anchor all the way; past Netley Hospital facing great mud-flats; New Forest stretching away to the left; Cowes in thick haze. When nearing Southampton four tugs came alongside, two were attached to the bow, the other two on guard crept along with us. At last the docks appeared, we were hauled round by our tugs and went in stern first. The four tugs then arranged themselves along our starboard side, got their noses up against the "Aquitania's" ribs and butted her up against the quay wall.

7 p.m.—I expected to get off hours ago. The Military Landing Officer says the best he can do for me is to send me to Glasgow. I know what Glasgow is like in a drizzle at this time of the year—"coals in the earth and coals in the air," as some one says. It has rained all day, is foggy and altogether British, unlike anything I have seen for a long time. I can understand how our colonials come home and curse our leaden skies.

December 5th.—Sunday. We left the "Aquitania" at 10 last night, many hundreds being left on the boat for discharge next day. They had poured out of the ship by two big gangways the whole day long, straight into the private station of the Cunard Line. In half an hour we were all in our cots, round came an orderly asking what we would have to drink, tea, cocoa, or oxo? I asked if that was his full list. "Yes," he said. "No, thank you, I am going to sleep."

We reached Yorkhill Hospital, Glasgow, this forenoon, and found the town in 2 inches of snow—real white snow too.

December 7th.—Was examined by a Medical Board at 4.30 p.m. and just managed to catch the 5 o'clock train for Aberdeen. Am now in Perth where we have been kept standing for some time. The three men forming my Board said I had a well-marked heart murmur, and all three solemnly shook hands with me. Evidently their impression was that I was going home to die. They do not know how much I have improved since I left Gallipoli. I feel myself that I'll soon be at the Front again.

(Feeling ill and almost useless I had intended to ask for sick leave from the A.D.M.S. a fortnight before I actually left.) On going to H.Q. for this purpose I met Col. Bell who said he had intended to look me up to let me know the result of a conference the previous evening, when it was announced we were to evacuate the peninsula. This was a strict secret, but I had to be told about it so that we might begin at once to get rid of as much of our equipment as we could spare. After such an announcement I felt it would be cowardly to miss what all considered would be a terrible experience, and the object of my errand was not mentioned. Such an eventuality was often discussed; we felt that our remaining there for the winter would be a mistake, and no one ventured to put our losses at less than 50 per cent. of all our forces should it be attempted.

The preparations for the evacuation had been carried out with the utmost efficiency, so much so that our losses were perfectly marvellous—six casualties at Suvla, Anzac, and Helles combined. (Suvla and Anzac were evacuated on December 10, 1915, and Helles on January 8, 1916.)

1916.

March 2nd.—On February 21, I received a long telegram from the War Office, ordering me to hold myself in readiness to embark for the Mediterranean at an early date to join an overseas unit. This order pleased me, as my last Medical Board threatened to put me down for a home job, which I told them would not be at all to my liking, and I was glad to find they had carried out my wishes and allowed me to go in for General Service once more.

Then on February 28 I had the order to report myself 10 the Military Embarkation Officer at Devonport by noon on March 1. After a tiresome journey of twenty-two hours I reached the docks and was directed on board the Anchor Liner "Transylvania". Three medical men were down for duty to the troops on board, these numbering over 3000, with Lt.-Col. Humphreys as P.M.O.

We have some heavy work allotted to us; the order to inoculate all the troops against cholera, which means two injections for each man, is a big job in itself. Many have never been inoculated against enteric and these have also to be seen to.

The "Transylvania" is a big boat of 15,000 tons. We lie in the bay although all has been in readiness for twenty-four hours, and we believe the delay is due to the fact that there have been several casualties in the Channel, within the last few days, from mines that have floated down from the Dover end, and we are likely to lie here till the Channel is swept.

My first thought about our ship was that she was such a big target that a torpedo could hardly miss her, and as yesterday was the date the German threat to sink every armed ship at sight came into force, our danger is no doubt great. (She was afterwards torpedoed in the Mediterranean with the loss of 402 lives.) All are ordered to put on our life belts, and even as we lie here many are going about with these cumbrous things on, but most are content to carry them under their arms.

A meeting was held yesterday, and crews of two N.C.O.'s and thirteen men were chosen to man each of our fifty-five boats in case we should get holed, while the rest of us have to scramble into the nearest boat that has not its full complement.

March 3rd.—We still lie in Plymouth Bay. Rumour says two German cruisers have broken through our cordon and are somewhere on the prowl. This is the latest reason I have heard for our still lying here.

A corporal shot himself this morning, the result of a letter from his sweetheart who dreamt that she saw him badly wounded, with his head swathed in bandages. Stupid fellow, superstition should have told him that this meant a wedding. He made a clumsy job of it, and a big mess in the Orderly Room where it happened.

2 p.m.—At noon we cast off and in less than an hour had sailed through the tortuous waterway and were out in the open sea. We have two destroyers ahead and one astern. All are happy at the thought of being on the move, lying in the bay was getting irksome. All have now taken to their life belts. As a precaution against a surprise we have a submarine guard of 200 men on duty at a time. These parade the top deck with their rifles.

March 4th.—Our escort left us last night at 7. Few are thinking of submarines as is proved by two out of every three appearing for breakfast without their preservers, or war babies as they are often called.

March 5th.—Yesterday afternoon while I was busy inoculating down in D. deck six short blasts were given by the whistle, denoting danger, when all had to rush to their allotted posts at the boats with life preservers on. I guessed it was only practice, which is invariably carried out the second day a troopship is at sea, and as I had only four more injections to give, and these four men had not heard the signal, I finished these, detaining my orderly who got as white as a ghost. All must have got into their places quickly, all were in perfect order when I reached the Orderly Room, the post of all officers not in command of boats. An officer tells me that on his last voyage an important and very stout Colonel was in his bath when the alarm sounded. He obeyed the order to fly absolutely at once, getting into his life belt and taking up his station without another stitch on.

To-day I was in my cabin when I heard a terrific roar. Thinking a torpedo might have hit us I put my head through the port-hole and saw several getting into their belts, so I made for the deck to find our big gun was practising on a barrel that had been dropped astern. Such practice is usually carried out several times on a trip.

March 6th.—We are nearing Gib., and as the danger gets worse here our zig-zagging has increased. It rains hard, with a fairly thick fog, and is altogether disagreeable. The M.O. for the crew had to be locked up to-day and has a military guard placed over him. He had been threatening all about him with a big amputating knife.

6.30 p.m.—Just passing "The Rock". It is dark and a brilliant searchlight has been fixed on us. Once more in the Mediterranean, and I expect I have a long, trying summer to spend somewhere in its neighbourhood.

March 7th.—Another dirty, wet day.

March 8th.—It still rains and we have a violent gale, and as we zig-zag this at times catches us full on the port side and the ship rolls badly. She creaks from stem to stern.

We are nearing Malta and are warned to look out for submarines which are more active here than anywhere. Each of our fifty-five boats is to have its crew of fifteen posted on deck to-night, and many of the officers say they are to sleep in their clothes.

March 9th.—The sea has been very rough ever since we entered the Mediterranean, and to-day has been the worst. We were opposite Gozo at noon, then skirted the north of Malta but made no halt. Now we zig-zag so much that we have no idea whether we are bound for Salonika or Egypt.

March 10th.—On the whole we now go south so that Alexandria is likely to be our destination.

March 12th.—When I woke this morning I found we were lying outside Alexandria. We soon afterwards entered the harbour.

Hinde (one of our M.O.'s) and I were ordered to report our arrival to the A.D.M.S., Arsenal Buildings, and getting into a "garry," with our baggage mountains high, and a dirty native on the top of all, we left the docks. Cabby did not know the Arsenal and we took this native because, after infinite jabbering, he declared he knew it. But instead of taking us about a mile along the quay he landed us in Place Mahomet Ali, miles off. He was a beast this guide, ready to swear he knew everything, a filthy, thick-lipped pimp who offered his good services again when night came. "Sir will have a fine evening to-day," he began, then detailed all the beauties he was to show us, in spite of our violently swearing at him and his ancestors for centuries back. After inquiring at half a dozen places we found the office of the A.D.M.S., and a man, springing forward to assist us out of the garry, hoped I felt quite fit again. This was Dorian, one of our Ambulance, who had been sent here sick, and was acting as orderly to the A.D.M.S. Here we were ordered to report at the Officers' Rest Camp at Mustapha, five miles off.

We wandered about for a time, asked for the Post Office which was closed by this time, being Sunday, then we asked for the telegraph office and were directed everywhere but to the right place. Question an Egyptian he will direct you anywhere, ask him for some place that has no existence on the face of the earth and he will show you the way with absolute confidence.

We got out to Mustapha about 6 and reported ourselves at the office of the adjutant of the camp. All details as they arrive go to Mustapha or Sidi-Bishr. About 200 of us dined together and had a good dinner, most of us washing it down with the beautifully clear water of the Nile.

Mustapha is a typical African camp, planted on sea-sand, but not so barren as my camp of twelve months ago at Mex. Here we have a good many date palms and other trees, and wherever a little irrigation is done there is a profusion of flowers.

March 13th.—I am directed to report to the O.C. "Camp 2," to whose company I am accordingly attached while here. My duty is to hang about his lines and take an interest in what the men are doing up to noon. This is a mere formality so that the authorities might know where to find us should we be wanted. To-day I came straight away and went to a mosque near by, where I was refused admittance unless I removed my boots, which I did not care to do, although I was assured the floor was most clean. It is usual to supply visitors with slippers big enough to go over their outdoor boots, but none are kept here. I wished to borrow a pair from a row on the door step, the owners of which were inside at their devotions.

A flock of about 300 cranes flew over us an hour ago, all bound for the north, reversing the course I watched them taking last autumn at Suvla. The morning is intensely warm, and I sit in my tent minus my tunic and with shirt sleeves rolled up. A few days ago I left 6 inches of snow in Aberdeenshire—and almost as much in Devonshire.

When I landed yesterday I heard that my old Division the 29th, had already started for France, and that the remainder sailed one of these days. Those still in Egypt are said to be at Suez, and I must see what I can do to join them. I am told that once you are cooped up here you may be forgotten for months.

March 14th.—I reported myself at my company office at 9, inspected the kits of a few men, and since then have wandered about like a lost soul, hot and gasping for breath in the furious heat and glare. There is a big house beyond us called Pasteur Villa, tumble down and uninhabited, with a large disordered garden of several acres, with an abundance of palms, cacti, etc., with high walls on which lizards sport, chasing each other up and down. The bigger ones are nearly a foot in length, with big ugly heads which they twist about in all directions while their bodies are kept fixed. They keep a guarded eye on you and allow you to get within a reasonable distance, but if you go an inch beyond that they are off like greased lightning. They are equally at home on the face of the smooth wall with their heads upwards or downwards, have well-spread out legs and long sharp claws, and whether going up or down are always at the gallop.

There is a most persistent rumour that the 29th Division sails for Marseilles this week. When strolling about after dinner in the cool of the evening I stumbled across an office of the 29th just beside our camp. Here I was told that although they had heard this rumour they personally believed that it would likely be another week or so before they left. Anything rather than be stranded here for several weeks doing nothing. Several remarked that I would be a lucky beggar not to have to go to France. I hear most of the troops now in Egypt are likely to go there, as though Turkey was not expected to give us much more trouble.

March 15th.—One of my old Ambulance men, Davidson, recognised me on parade this morning and watched for an opportunity to speak to me. He is on his way home and left his unit only twelve days ago. He says the Ambulance expected to start for France two days after he left. Lt-Col. Bell, our A.D.M.S., on Gallipoli, is now in command, and as he is a most able and genial officer I must do my best to join my old unit at Suez should it be still there. (Col. Bell took over command of the 89th F.A. a week or two before this date, and was with us till the end of the great Somme push of July. He was a most capable C.O., strict but much respected by the men, and under him the Ambulance attained a high degree of smartness and discipline such as it had never reached before.)

March 16th.—I have spent the afternoon with Hinde at the Nuzha Gardens, the Kew of Alexandria. On getting beyond the town we came to a broad, well-made road, bordered on both sides with orange trees, and extending behind these the eternal palm and fig trees. This passed Lake Hadra with its swampy edges full of long reeds and rushes, its waters a dirty green, beloved by noisy frogs, with an abundance of bird life, among which we saw two king fishers, and several times big lizards darted across the road and mounted trees like squirrels.

The Gardens are particularly fine, the plants mostly tropical. I noticed here that the new date crop is already well advanced. Our home bedding plants, such as geranium, verbena, nemesia, were all in full bloom and the soil and climate seemed to suit them. There was a large rose garden, but the flowers were nearly over for the season, and the blooms were but poor specimens, nor was their method of culture conducive to the growth of prize flowers; the plants were mostly 3 to 5 feet high, thick stemmed, old and branchy.

March 17th.—Still hearing rumours that the 29th goes to France one of these days. I thought it was about time I was stirring up the authorities, so I called at the adjutant's office at the Base Depot. He was out, and on asking if there was any one else I could see, an orderly said, "Of course there is the Colonel," in a tone of voice that denoted that he would be a bold man who tackled him. However, I dared to face him and found him a most charming man, but he could do nothing for me directly, but advised me to go to the H.Q. of the 3rd Echelon, Hotel Metropole, Alexandria, and ask for Captain B——. On such an introduction I was received there with open arms, a 'phone message was sent out to my depot, and I was assured everything would be cut and dry before I could cover the four miles tram ride back to camp. This I found carried out to the letter, and I am now on the point of starting for Port Said to join my old Ambulance.

Hinde and I spent the afternoon visiting Pompey's Pillar and the catacombs. At the latter we had to go down and down a long spiral staircase which ended at two fine pillars, all cut from the solid rock. Most of the larger rooms were family vaults of kings and others, mostly of the Roman period. All the sarcophagi and recesses had been rifled and the mummies taken to museums, but some still contained large quantities of bones. One good specimen of a skull bone I slipped into my pocket to find on my return to camp that it was reduced to what resembled coarse oatmeal.

March 18th.—Last night all men belonging to the 29th Division—and there is a large number here on their way back to their units after sick leave—were ordered to fall in at 6.30 p.m., and from then till 10.30 they were kept at their post. This long delay was merely for the purpose of preventing their wandering away and getting too much drink before their departure. We were booked to start soon after midnight. We had a heavy train with about 600 on board, mostly in cattle trucks.

I could see little of the country till dawn when we were passing through a most fertile, well-watered region; date palms in thousands; native villages of mud houses, the whole usually surrounded by low mud walls; hundreds of water wheels driven by oxen, the water drawn from a canal we were skirting.

We cut across, striking Suez Canal at Kantara. The last 20 miles or so was by an absolutely straight single track, through a sand desert, without a trace of animal life, and with only scattered clumps of fibrous vegetation. On looking forward one could see the sand flying like snow drift in front of a gentle breeze. This must continually block the line. The only surfacemen I saw were old fellows in dug-outs about a mile apart, each with a plentiful supply of great water jars. As we neared the Canal vegetation got rather more plentiful, with bushes resembling clumps of whin in the distance. Then houses, camps, and khaki, strings of camels led by natives in long white robes. We had struck the Canal; tramp steamers were passing through, and numbers of native boats were moored to the edges. Along the Canal were armed men, field guns studded about, and on the other side bigger guns in emplacements. The railway from Kantara to Port Said runs along the west bank, and within a few yards of the water's edge, and along this bank trees and shrubs form one continuous thicket.

We had much shunting on reaching Port Said before we got the train alongside the docks, amidst the awful shrieking of our most unmusical engine whistle. The Egyptian is notorious for his love of this fiendish noise, one blast is never sufficient at any time, but he gives shriek after shriek till you feel inclined to kick him off his engine.

We boarded one of the old Gallipoli lighters which were specially built for the landing, and were delivered three months after that event. This took us out to the "Lake Manitoba," an old tub that could barely do ten knots. As we drew up to the ship some one away aloft shouted, "Three cheers for Captain Davidson," which call was heartily replied to, and on looking up I found a lot of our men leaning over the rail and waving their helmets. I felt at home again on recognising this as Sergeant Stewart's voice and seeing "kent faces". On ascending the gangway, McLean and Russell gave me a warm reception. These are the only two officers remaining of the nine I left behind at Suvla in November last. Colonel Bell was soon found when I got another hearty handshake. He had heard of my arrival at Alexandria some days ago, through Colonel Humphreys, P.M.O. of the "Transylvania," who, being home on ordinary leave, had gone straight to Suez, and he said he had been wondering how he was to get a hold of me. Our new officers are mostly Scotch. The N.C.O.'s and many of the men I have had a talk with, and I am proud to find they are pleased to have me back among them, and I am just as glad to see them; the dangers we have come through together will always be a link between us. Sergeant Gilbert said the men had given me a ringing cheer at Suez when they heard I was in "Alex.". The men are looking extremely well, totally different from what they were when I left them. They are fat and bronzed, and say they feel very fit. They have had next to nothing to do since the evacuation in December, since when they have been stationed at Lemnos, Alexandria, and Suez.

March 19th.—We still lie at Port Said. At first the delay was said to be due to our waiting to have a big gun mounted at our stern, but this operation was finished in the morning, and now at 2 p.m. there is no sign of our moving. We have at least a dozen ladies and children on board, the impedimenta of officers returning from India.

March 20th.—We left last night after dark. The precautions against attack are very slack on this boat. There is of course a man in the crow's nest, but the submarine guard practically does not exist, the men pile their arms and wander about as they like. They are certainly particular about showing light after dark; by 6 p.m. all port-holes are closed, and every cabin has its iron deadlight down. After 7 o'clock dinner all the electric lights in the whole ship are switched off, which is quite unnecessary; on the "Transylvania" we got absolute darkness without such drastic measures. You have to go to bed in the dark, no candles being allowed, the only lights being an oily lamp in the smoking-room, and one in each long passage.

We have had a stiff gale most of the day, with waves washing over our foredeck. Although we pitch badly I was never in a ship that rolled so little.

March 21st.—A beautiful day with the sea like a mill pond. In the morning a destroyer was seen astern, convoying a large transport. They forged along till they came abreast of us where the ship remained, the destroyer going some distance ahead and keeping there for the afternoon. Towards evening we had five other ships in sight.

March 23rd.—The M.O. of the ship has just told me as a great secret that the "Minneapolis" was torpedoed two hours ago, at a spot we crossed yesterday about 10 p.m. He also says we have had a bad reverse in France—another absolute secret, and I had to promise not to breathe a word before my informant would tell me the news.

Later.—The above news could not be kept secret long, all knew it by afternoon, even the ladies from whom we wished to hide it.

March 24th.—As we approached Malta yesterday afternoon a big steamer coming from there wheeled round and returned to port; a destroyer dashed out and passed us at full speed, while we received orders not to enter Valetta as had been previously intended, but to go ahead at full speed. All this, we discovered by evening, was due to another transport, name as yet unknown, being torpedoed 60 miles east of Malta. We had crossed the spot very shortly before and must have had a narrow escape.

A great tug-of-war has been in progress for the last two afternoons. Our unit, which is the largest on board, had four teams, two of them managing to reach the semifinal rounds when their opponents knocked them out, but only after a severe effort.

We hear this morning that a third trooper was "plugged" somewhere in the course we have covered. If we are bound for Marseilles, which it is taken for granted is our destination, we are not taking the direct route. I am Orderly Officer for the day and having to inspect the men's breakfast I was up early—even earlier than was needful, but I was flooded out of bed as soon as scrubbing the decks commenced; half a bucket of water came through my port-hole during a roll of the ship. On looking out I could see land on our port side, which turned out to be Cape Bon. At noon we are skirting close in to the African coast. Either we intend to go through Gib., or we will go straight north to Marseilles, well to the west of Sardinia. Being now a long way west of Malta we feel that our chances of being torpedoed are perhaps less, but the neighbourhood of the Balearic Islands is considered anything but safe.

March 25th.—6.30 p.m. Darkness is coming down and the captain says that if we are not attacked within the next half-hour he will consider us practically safe. The danger of a night attack is almost negligible.

The weather gets much colder as we go north. We are about opposite the north of Corsica, and a cold wind bears down on us from the Continent. Two small birds have accompanied us the whole day, resting in the rigging at times, but spending much time on the wing. I cannot make out what they are, some say chaffinches, but that is certainly a mistake, they are too small. A lark fell on deck in the forenoon utterly exhausted, lying for some time on its breast with wings spread out. It disappeared among the lifeboats and has not been seen since. A whale, or probably two, was seen spouting a few hundred yards distant. Some said they saw their backs, but I could not say I was fortunate enough to see more than the jets of water which were repeated several times. Porpoises have been plentiful all the way from Egypt.

March 26th.—Marseilles harbour. I woke at 2 and thought we had reached our journey's end, but I could feel that the screw was still revolving, though slowly. Evidently we were killing time, there is no chance now-a-days of entering a harbour during the hours of darkness. By 6 we were steaming slowly into the fine Bay of Marseilles, high rugged rocks on both sides, in front of us the town with its surrounding girdle of limestone mountains.

("The Incomparable 29th" was a name well earned by this famous Division. The Gallipoli landing could only have been made by well-seasoned troops. Many and many a time I have heard the Anzacs wax eloquent over their doings. As fighters no troops in the world can surpass, or perhaps equal, the Anzacs, but they always declared they could never have done what the 29th did. The red triangle, the badge of the Division, they had a great love and respect for, and, although not over-fond of saluting, no officer with this on his arm was ever allowed to pass without a most deferential salute.

The casualties of the Division on the peninsula exceeded 600 per cent., having been practically wiped out time after time. I afterwards served with them in France and Belgium till early in 1917, when I went to the Base and remained there till I was demobilised in June, 1919.)



ABERDEEN: THE UNIVERSITY PRESS

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