Part 19

6 p.m.--I took the temperature of the air to-day for the first time and found it 92.5--not the hottest day I have felt here, still uncomfortably warm. Walked over to Y. Beach in the forenoon, and up The Gully later, meeting the Hants and Worcesters marching down with their full kits--all off to Lemnos or somewhere out of the reach of shells. These are the very last of the 29th Division to leave except the three ambulances.

July 17th.--W. Beach. Returned from Aberdeen Gully to-day. Last night the Asiatic guns were troublesome about W. Beach, also a Taube which dropped bombs about the ammunition dump. By shell or bomb a fire was started that cost us 1,000,000 rounds of rifle ammunition.

I had an order in the forenoon to inoculate the H.Q. Staff against cholera. On going over at 6.15, the appointed hour, I found General Hunter-Weston had gone some hours before, along with Col. Yarr, to Lemnos for a much-needed rest. I inoculated two other Generals and forty-five others, finishing up with a dose for myself.

One of our men had a letter from a friend who is with the 2nd Highland F.A. in France. He spoke about them retiring out of shell fire for a rest, and after pitching camp a shell fell in the next field. They then struck camp and went back another 5 miles. "Good God," some one heard him declare, "an' here's his, we could na gang five inches."

July 18th.--Last night about 11 o'clock seventeen shells came over from Asia, and one hit a huge pile of cartridge boxes and set it ablaze. It burned furiously, with a very alarming sputter, bullets flying everywhere, although their velocity was not great. They were flying over our heads and we had to go underground. Several about the fire got rather badly wounded. When fully alight the noise was the most earsplitting I ever heard, not that it was so very loud, but there was something painful about it. This pile was composed of cartridges taken off our own dead and wounded, and those picked up about the trenches, where a sinful waste goes on, although I believe the big half was captured Turkish ammunition. Many millions were burned.

In the morning I was asked to spend the day at H.Q. to relieve Col. Yarr's successor. Major-General Stopford (afterwards in command at the Sulva landing) was acting as G.O.C. Everything seems very quiet at present, as if we were to be in no hurry to make another attack--a pity, I think.

At 9.30 p.m. I went over to the "River Clyde" to guide an ambulance that was coming out from England. They landed at midnight, and are to encamp with us--we fondly hope and believe for the purpose of relieving us. Asiatic shells were flying as they landed, and for some hours afterwards, an unfortunate and alarming experience as all were raw to warfare.

July 19th.--For some days we have been looking for orders to go somewhere for a rest. The order came suddenly to-day at 8 p.m. and we were ordered to be on board at 10 at V. Beach. A tall order indeed, all had to pack up and stow away what we were leaving behind. The most of B Section was at Aberdeen Gully, 4 miles away. Word was sent to these, but the note miscarried, and by the time they were able to come in it was long past midnight.

July 20th.--Last night C Section was sent off in advance, A following about 11 o'clock. We hoped to get off quickly, the object of the rest being to take us out of shell fire. We had to pass along the road at the top of the lighthouse cliff, and C Section, as they waited for us beside the "River Clyde," observed a signal about the time we had been passing that point. The Kum Kale guns gave us what they considered a fair time to cover the remaining piece of ground, and just as we were coming up to the "River Clyde," under whose shelter we were to embark, we heard the whistle of an approaching shell. We lay flat but there was no time for shelter. Instead of one shell, as we thought, four (some say six) burst simultaneously about us, all high explosives. Not a man was hit, which was an absolute miracle; all had burst beside us, and actually among us, as I thought. I rushed back through the dense smoke and dust, expecting to find terrible havoc in our ranks, and found the men had bolted to shelter, leaving their packs in the middle of the road. I shouted but got no reply, but in twos and threes they collected near the pier, and rushed along to the side of the boat. Other men had been passing along this pier when the shells burst, and a number were killed and mangled, one of the barges being simply splashed with blood. All this was most unfortunate, but it did not end until we got sixteen shells in all. The officers after the first salvo sheltered at the entrance of a deep dugout owned by a Frenchman. Whenever he saw the flash of a gun over the water he shouted "Kum Kale" and pointed to his dugout, when we dived down in beautiful style, tumbling over each other down the dark steps. At last our mine-sweeper came in and we boarded her about 1.30 a.m. to-day. She took us beyond the reach of the guns to the "Osmanieh," a fine boat of the Khedivial mail line. I had had practically no sleep for the last three nights, and I was soon on the top of my bed half undressed and fast asleep.

We breakfasted at 8 as we were entering the outer roads of Lemnos. Here we had two more transfers before we landed on the most inhospitable looking shore we had ever seen. We soon wished ourselves back in Gallipoli with its shells. The wind blew, and such a dust. All the land round the harbour, and far inland is one large camp. The harbour is covered with battleships and transports, most of the former flying the tricolour flag, and among the others are many of the largest liners in the world, the "Mauretania" with her four funnels being one of them. We trudged on for 1-1/2 miles through the most terrible dust, underfoot and in the air, and took possession of a rushy piece of ground, the only natural piece we could find, all the rest being under cultivation of vines, French beans, maize, and other crops. It is a god-forsaken place in the meantime. We could get nothing to eat or drink, but finally, after 4 o'clock, we managed to "borrow" sufficient water to make tea. After a meal of bread, and a small tin of salmon between us all, we felt a bit revived, and the desire to return to the shells of Gallipoli lessened. But we are ordered to strike camp, we are interfering with the privacy of some fellows who have the honour to belong to H.Q. of the 87th Division, and we must be off to-night.

July 21st.--I expected to have to go to bed hungry last night, but Pirie of the Lancs. called and asked Kellas and myself to dine with him, so that I finally went to rest under the stars feeling quite comfortable. I spread my two coats on the ground, thought twice about undressing, but, wishing to have a good sleep, got into my pyjamas, and with a single blanket over me slept till about 3 a.m. when I woke up feeling bitterly cold. We are now encamped in the midst of vineyards, where there is an excellent crop of grapes, but they are sour and unripe. I got hold of a Greek yesterday and asked him if he could bring a supply of fruit to us in the evening. He did a big trade among the men with oranges and lemons, and when he saw me produced a special sack with some really fine pears and oranges, and a huge red-fleshed water melon which we had for breakfast, in spite of the warning that we were to guard against all sorts of fruit, but melons in particular. This morning I gathered a supply of French beans and think a good dish of green food will benefit our health. Except at H.Q. I have never had an opportunity of anything of the kind.

The 29th Division, which left Gallipoli less than a week ago, are ordered back already, before they have time to benefit much by the change. An officer of the Dublins was lamenting about this to me, and compared his men with Kitchener's army, which is largely represented here, being on their way to the Front for the first time. All the old campaigners are thin, hollow-eyed and haggard. I know I myself have lost over a stone weight, and feel very tired--to do anything is an exertion.

Here the heat is intense, and we have not a particle of shade, there being no trees where we are, but this morning we are arranging about tents, and in a few hours we may be able to escape from the sun's perpendicular rays. I hope within the next day or two to explore part of the island and its villages. The natives are inclined to be very friendly, the Greek who brought me the fruit absolutely refused payment, saying, "It's for the commander, he take Constantinople and me give him this". I promised to take it in less than no time. If I could fulfil my promise the Greek would have the best of the bargain, but this has been characteristic of the race from all time.

Towards evening Thomson and I walked to Mudros by a back road, and were fascinated with the primitive ways of the natives. Their mode of threshing in particular interested us. We wandered through the village, meeting crowds of native men, women, and children, the men mostly squatting in front of dirty cafés, or lounging inside, sipping, as far as I could make out, syrup and soda water. This love of syrup I have seen in Holland and Belgium and in France, and I fancy is universal in hot countries. We visited the church, which I had been in three months before. An old verger--for such I took him to be--took us round, a venerable old fellow with kindly eyes, and long beard, long robe, and tall brimless hat. He pointed out everything, talking a mixture of French and Greek; showed us the Bible on the altar, a beautiful silver covered tome, the various pictures, etc., and the pulpit of the "Episcopos". "Oh, the bishop," said I. "No, no, Castro Episcopos." He meant the Bishop, who perhaps pays the place periodic visits, his palace being in Castro, the largest town on the island. A candle--a mere taper--had been lighted for each of us on entering, and was set in a circular candlestick. For this performance we were expected to pay of course. Before leaving I dropped a piastre (2-1/2d.) into a plate, and handed Thomson another, but he finding he had three British pennies dropped all in, greatly to the delight of our guide into whose pocket all this wealth went. "Merci, merci," says the old chap who dives for another candle, and lit a second for the good of Thomson's soul.

July 22nd.--Thomson and I set off after breakfast to Rosapool, a village to the N.E. On the way we studied the method of threshing the wheat, which seems to be occupying the full time of every member of the families at this time. The threshing floor on which the operation is conducted is twenty yards across, circular and laid with flat stones. About sufficient sheaves to form half a dozen of our "stooks" at home is evenly spread on the floor, while a pair of oxen draw a sledge made of two stout boards, about 5 feet long, turned up at the point, and studded most carefully with flints projecting fully half an inch. The driver, who is usually a woman, stands on this and directs the cattle round and round, prodding them freely with a goad. Some of the larger floors have a second team: several I saw to-day consisting of two donkeys and a pony. These were not muzzled like the oxen, they had no sledge, their hoofs doing the work, and they were kept going round at a good pace. The winnowing follows, after the whole is reduced almost to snuff. This is carried out by throwing shovelfuls in the air, the slight breeze we have to-day carrying the pounded straw away and leaving the heavy grain.

Rosapool is off the beaten track and is not much spoiled by the present influx of men. We managed to get a drink of excellent beer--Pilsner, from Athens--the old fellow who served us explaining that he had no right to let us have it, but as soon as a military policeman who was standing at his door, moved on we were placed on chairs at a small table and had our repast. We visited the church which was not unlike the bigger one at Mudros. With her head on the doorstep was a wizened old woman fast asleep, guarding three piles of salt she had laid out to dry in the sun. She got on her haunches, mumbled to us in a friendly way, and showed us how she worked her spinning machine, which she had with her. This consisted of a pole about 2 feet high, with a base which she clutched with her great, coarse, bare toes, and as she teased out the wool from the bunch at the top she twirled a short spindle with her right hand making a remarkably even thread.

We next climbed a hill near this, which we found rough and rugged, as every hill here is. It was scorched absolutely brown, thistles--especially yellow-flowered ones--alone showing signs of life, along with a pretty, dwarf Dianthus. The rocks are covered with an orange-coloured lichen which gives them a warm colour. When lying on the top I could almost imagine myself in Scotland, if I kept my eyes above the villages and valleys, and viewed the hill-tops only. Away to the north of us was a large, pure white lagoon, shut off from the sea by a sandbar. No doubt this was a layer of salt formed the same way as the inland lakes with their salt we were accustomed to at Mex, and it was likely from this the "old wifie" had got her salt.

Every village has its fig trees, the largest under 20 feet high, their large leaves rich green and luscious. Almost every house has one or more of these. There is but one pattern for their houses, a square box two storeys high, often with a bit of balcony covered with vines. The general colour of a village is grey, cold, and forbidding, but this is relieved by the fig trees, and the bright green and blue paint many use on their doors and windows. Everything is primitive, and long may it remain so; all seem happy and contented on the small pittance any of them can earn. There is no attempt at farming on anything but the smallest scale.

Was it in Lemnos, the Ægean Isle, Milton lands Satan when thrown out of Heaven?

We hear that Achi Baba was to be stormed to-day, but we do not believe it. Big gunfire is distinctly heard at this distance (over 40 miles) and we have heard but a very few shots. Last night the booming was constant for a time.

July 23rd.--To-day we had a route march of nearly twelve miles, the first since we left England. We went through Rosapool to the northern shore of Lemnos, where the men bathed and rested for an hour. We found a fine beach of silver sand. We reached camp a little after 2, with excellent appetites. By a little clever manœuvring--and with the aid of Sergeant-Major Shaw--Kellas and I managed to reach Rosapool while the men rested outside, and we had a long, cooling drink of Pilsner.

July 24th.--Went over almost every street in Mudros this morning. There were five of us, and we made many purchases for our mess--white wine, plums, Turkish delight, preserved fruit, tomatoes, etc. In the evening Thomson and I inoculated every one in camp against cholera--my second dose.

July 25th.--When we landed at Lemnos we chanced to meet Padre Komlosy, who has looked us up in camp a time or two since. He had a service at 10 for us and the Welsh Fusiliers who are on their way to Gallipoli for the first time. These Welshmen wear a cockade of white feathers in their helmets and the officers three black ribbons down their backs, from below their coat collars. Padre Hardie also visited us in the evening.

H.Q. of the lines of communication is on the "Aragon," a magnificent ship lying in Lemnos harbour. The "Aragon" is notorious for its number of monocles. Up to now any officer has been allowed to go on board to any meal on payment, but evidently that privilege is about to be stopped. If anyone went in his grimy, war-worn garments, and many now have nothing else, he was glowered at by these toffs, as if he had no right to be there. Besides, many officers who were not sick enough to enter a hospital, but too ill to carry on at the Front, were sent there for a rest. These too were attacked by these fellows and told that if they were ill they should be on a hospital ship or if not ill they ought to be at the Front. These men have no intention themselves of going nearer the Front, they are all fat and sleek and live on the fat of the land, are faultlessly dressed, and strut about with their monocles, looking with contempt on all the poor devils who are doing the dirty work. Every one is now up in arms against them.

In the evening the CO., Kellas, and I climbed a rocky hill of about 800 feet, lying to the east. The view of the harbour with over 100 big ships, and about as many small craft was very fine in its setting of rugged hills. We watched the sun go down in all his glory on the distant side of the island.

July 27th.--Still in Lemnos. There has been nothing doing to-day. We lie about camp a good deal where we have an abundance of light literature, sheltering under two large, double-lined Indian tents we were lucky enough to secure the day after our arrival. Yesterday we had a mail, which of course had to go to Gallipoli first, and was delayed at least a week by this short double journey.

At 9 a.m. Fiddes and I took the men for a route march through the village of Romano and up a hill beyond.

July 28th.--Another slow day. I amused myself in the morning with a fine specimen of a tarantula which I caught crawling up a tent. I had seen three others in Gallipoli but this was the finest of all. Kellas and I had a praying mantis in a large tin box with gauze as a lid so that we might watch him at his devotions. The mantis reminds one of a small, green monkey, the fore pair of legs being well developed and used in prehension. A large number of the insects we have are of the grasshopper tribe with well-developed hind-legs. The tarantula was put beside the mantis and he pounced on him like a cat at a mouse, seized him round the middle and with his great mandibles chewed right along to his head, squeezing every drop of juice out of him. Nothing was left but a few dry pellets. Kellas next gave him about a dozen flies and he found room for the lot. These he sprawled at with his fore-legs, rarely missing a dart, keeping his mouth open till a fly was grabbed and forced between his jaws. He has had another meal of flies and looks well satisfied with the easy way in which he has been able to capture his prey to-day, and is much inclined to sleep.