Part 12

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 manœuvres 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!