Part 23

Seeing some big black Arum lilies--known as the "Dead Turk" from its evil smell--with flowers about 2 feet long, I dug up two enormous bulbs this morning, one fully 6 inches in diameter. These, with other bulbs, I will send home. (They were not an acceptable gift, they were allowed to die owing to their horrible smell.) These were growing beside a well which was shelled a couple of hours ago, but I sneaked out in safety when this had finished. I heard this evening that I had been "mentioned" in Sir Ian Hamilton's first despatch. Two other medical men of our Division are also mentioned--Col. Yarr, our A.D.M.S. at Helles, and Major Lindsay of the 87th F.A.

August 26th.--Pottered about in the morning after seeing some batches of sick sent in by the Regimental M.O.'s, then walked to our base on Suvla Bay Beach. Fiddes and McKenzie, who joined our Ambulance two days ago, walked out with me. They dilated to Agassiz and myself about a great discovery they had made, namely, that excellent rissoles could be made of bully beef and ground biscuits. On their departure we decided to have rissoles for supper, so Agassiz prepared a frying pan and a tin of bully, while I with a pick-shaft ground up a couple of our flinty biscuits. We had them done to a turn, and felt much better for a decent feed. We then smoked and watched big, threatening clouds scurrying over the moon, and away in the S.W. constant flashes of lightning. The weather is changing, and the rainy season is not far off. Then what on earth is to come of us? We'll be washed out of the gullies, to be shot down in the open.

August 27th.--Agassiz and I returned to the base at 7.30 p.m. and were relieved by Fiddes and McKenzie. Plenty of firing by both sides, but nothing worth noting.

August 28th.--A day at the Beach--a weary place and I wish I was back in The Gully. Here we are encamped at the top of Suvla Bay, at the edge of a wide stretch of soft sand, which is dotted all over with men and their shallow dug-outs in the sand. We are protected by a number of Red Cross flags, several Ambulances and the C.C.S. These have never been shelled by the Turks, and one feels absolutely safe, but I miss the healthy excitement of our little Gully. As I watched the bearers and wagons being shelled during the last fight it struck me at the time that all the shrapnel might be coming from a single battery, and I now think there can be no doubt about this. It must have been a battery of four or five guns in command of a beastly German.

August 29th.--Sunday. Nothing doing--except that the usual artillery duel goes on, and a Taube crossed over us. These we occasionally fire at but never hit.

August 30th.--Feeling bored to death I took a pleasure walk out to our dressing station in The Gully, where Stephen and Thomson are at present on duty. After dark I returned alone, trudging first down The Gully almost to the Salt Lake, then cutting off to the right towards our base. It is very different from the great Gully at Helles (The Gully), being but a watercourse, averaging 8 to 10 yards in width and most of it not over 6 feet deep. It has huge clumps of rushes and lofty, graceful reeds which give it a tropical appearance, and in a few places are pools of dirty, green water that has not dried up since the last rainy season, and in these water tortoises and big green frogs live in hundreds. To-night it was rather weird as I came along, with the bull frogs croaking, and several other nocturnal animals making loud cries, down past the "Turk's grave," where a pile of dead had been collected in The Gully and a little earth thrown over them, and now the odour is so strong that one has to pass at the double, holding one's breath. The very earth over them looks wet and greasy as I noticed to-day. The whole Gully is full of dug-outs from end to end. These had been made on the first days of the landing and are now untenanted. Lying about unheeded is equipment of all sorts, which had belonged to our dead and wounded.

A Taube dropped two bombs at our ships to-day, but missed as usual. And our not firing at the marauder showed that we had not much faith in our own shooting. The warships and a monitor were busy towards evening battering some unseen object away beyond the mountains--perhaps the forts of "The Narrows".

We have two Welsh Ambulances beside us. The men move very smartly and are evidently well drilled. They are great psalm singers, and always at it.

August 31st.--The Australians over at Anzac seem very busy to-day. So also are the Turks whose shells are falling thick on land and sea, and our ships are firing at some target beyond Sari Bair (Hill 972).

We had a curious plague of midges last night: they attacked the lamp and table in our mess in thousands, and made things so unpleasant that we had to hurry from the table. These have never bothered us before, and I doubt if I ever saw a midge on Gallipoli before.

September 1st.--Agassiz and I came out to the dressing station as it was getting dark last night.

Two new officers and twenty men joined us yesterday--Captains Wilson and Tawse.

Wiseley, M.O. to the Lancs., passed through our station this forenoon, badly wounded in the head by a sniper. It looks as if it was all up with him. (He died before he reached the C.C.S.) Tawse followed from our base to take his place. Pirie of the Royals looked us up, and told us he was down for "mention" in the next despatch. We have all admired, and often spoken about, the good work and earnest devotion of Pirie, and are delighted these are to be recognised, even in this small way. We were talking about the huge bungle of the landing at Suvla. It seems agreed had it not been that two Territorial Battalions turned tail when faced by a handful of Turks things here would have been totally different, and the ridges which are not yet ours should have been taken and held the first day. A distinguished General is said to have remarked: "Had there been more sweat on the part of the men there would have been less blood". We have one excellent General here now who pokes his nose into everything, says what he thinks, whether polite or otherwise, and swears at large. He says that without a good backing of swears people will never believe you are in earnest. Only men of blood and iron are of any use at the present moment for filling our high places.

Pirie was telling us that they had two Australian snipers attached to the Royals, and one of their own men who had done a good deal of jungle shooting was an excellent sniper. One night he was out and had crawled to within 30 yards of the Turks' trenches trying to get as much information as possible, when lo, and behold! he found by his watch it was 5.30 and broad daylight. He had fallen asleep. However, by careful crawling he succeeded in gaining his own lines in safety. It is always by night these men work, and the Australian snipers get two days off every week to go to the base for a rest. This time is usually spent in their going somewhere else to snipe. Fighting to the Australians is great sport and nothing else.

In the afternoon an East Kent officer paid us a visit. He tells us that rumours of peace with Turkey are again afloat. We have heard this sort of stuff before and don't believe it.

September 2nd.--Agassiz and I had attended the sick of our Brigade during the day, and spent a quiet time about the dressing station, gathering enough brambles to make an excellent dish for supper, when suddenly at 7.30 the scene changed. First two cannon shots, the well-known signal for a Turkish attack, a short pause then a general cannonade from the Turks which was fast and furious. I do not suppose anyone could have guessed they had so many guns in position, but for half an hour--twenty-three minutes to be exact--they simply deluged with shrapnel our trenches on the hill on our extreme left (Hizlar Dagh), and rifle fire from both sides was equally furious. The part of The Gully we occupy as a dressing station runs north and south, and I could not have believed it could possibly have been enfiladed, but bullets, after the first few minutes, got diverted our way, and came right along our position in a most alarming way. All lay low at once, except our servant, Wallace, who had just removed our supper things and was sitting on the edge of a low trench leading into our dug-out when he called out, "Oh!" I turned round and said, "What's up?" "I am struck," he said, and fell into my arms. We laid him down on the floor of the dug-out, and in a few minutes he breathed his last. So ended the days of an excellent fellow. Formerly a ship's steward he had seen the world, and was a splendid servant and much liked by the whole Ambulance. This only added to the alarm that had seized us all, which was due to the very insufficient protection we had on the side the bullets were coming from. Agassiz and I lay hard up against the north side of our dug-out--little more than a few dry lumps of clay--while Wallace's body was stretched alongside us. As I have said, this attack ended in twenty-three minutes, but at 8.30 there was a second and similar one. We had all made up our minds that the Turks were to break through and would be down on us, and all had secretly decided what they were to do, and how much of their equipment they would take in case we were forced to retreat. All this fighting was but a very short way to our left.

This morning we sent Wallace's body back to our base, where it lay till the return of C Section at 7.30 p.m., as we wished to be present at the last rites, and we could only turn out in a body after dark. The moon was not due for hours, but in the dark, with only the stars for light, and a brilliant planet in the east, we listened to Padre Campion's short service. He, being an Episcopal clergyman, had to accommodate himself to us Presbyterians, and he recited "Abide with me," then read the piece, "I am the Resurrection," and ended with "The Lord's Prayer". Then back again to camp, supper, and general conversation.

Rumours reach us that the Germans are still being pressed back about Warsaw, that the Austrians have been defeated in Galicia, and the Turks in the Caucasus.

The Australians at Anzac are making steady, though slow, progress, which appears to be the only point where we can press on at all. The Marquis of Tullibardine arrived here to-day with a body of Scottish Horse--unmounted of course. Padre Campion says he was at Eton with this brilliant soldier.

September 4th.--A very moderate S.W. breeze is blowing to-day, and our pontoon pier of about thirty boats has gone all to pieces and lies on the sand. Its sole use was to get patients away from the C.C.S. to the hospital ships. This shows us the difficulties we will have to face in winter with our patients and stores--if we are to be here, which heaven forbid! Padre Dennis Jones has just told me that the betting is that the war in Turkey will be over in a fortnight. He also says he was in the trenches last night when word was passed round to prepare to meet a big Turkish attack after dark. This did not come off, last night was quiet except for an occasional spurt of rifle fire.

September 5th.--Sir Ian Hamilton is reported to have said that the war will be over in ten days.

This morning we have been notified that we go to Imbros, probably for a week, on the night of the 8/9th. This does not seem to give pleasure to many. It means a night spent in crossing, and being tired all next day when we will have to work hard to provide shelter, then returning before we get really settled down. If this order takes effect we will besides miss the "grand finale" which will be held among the forts of "The Narrows" (!!!)

There was much artillery fire by both sides yesterday, and this morning they have been very busy--they even managed to send two shells after a Taube, these bursting many hundred yards behind their objective. But it let the Taube see that we were not asleep at 7.30 a.m.

My friend Pirie, M.O. to the Royals, passed through this in the afternoon, having been wounded in the back while he was holding his Sick Parade--only a "couchy wound," such as the Irish pray to the Virgin Mary to send them at the beginning of a fight, so that they might escape something worse. Pirie walked in with his usual smile, and pleaded with us, before we knew there was anything wrong, "not to make him laugh as it was sore". (To everyone's sorrow, Pirie was afterwards killed in France.)

September 7th.--It was the duty of Agassiz and myself to take over the dressing station last night, and there we now are. After the experience we had last time when we did not feel over comfortable after dark and the bullets began to fly, we were glad to occupy the same dug-out during the night, for the sake of company. It is a most unpleasant feeling to find you are fired at when alone. I have noticed this especially when out a walk just as it is getting dark. You ask yourself how long you may have to lie, if you get wounded, before anyone comes your way. But even in daylight if shells are dropping about they are doubly terrifying if you are alone.

This Gully has been a most uncomfortable place all along, its banks afford little protection from rifle fire; they are too low for cross-fire, and a few days ago we found it could be enfiladed. At ordinary times we have only occasional bullets during the day, but as soon as the shades of night begin to fall they come in a constant stream, and we are only safe when we retire to the depths of our dug-outs--if our shallow pits are worthy of the name.

We keep wondering what sort of a holiday we are to have in Imbros. Are there to be plagues of flies and dust as in Lemnos? However, it will break the monotony which is getting very oppressive, and some of ours keep up a constant grumble at everybody and everything.

The nights are now very cold, but the heat by day seems about as intense as ever.