h of scrub that had just caught fire.
Signaller John Wilkinson and another member of the battalion plunged
into the thick smoke and brought out seven men. There was a burst of
shrapnel, and Wilkinson, at the crowning point of his noble display of
humanity, was killed.

When the wounded were brought down to the beach for conveyance in
lighters and mine-sweepers to the hospital ships anchored about a mile
and a half from the shore, the dead awaited reverent disposal. Of all
the tasks that had to be performed that night in the starlight this
was the pitifulest and most poignant. They were buried side by side,
at the foot of Dublin Hill. With the death of these young lads in
Gallipoli the light went out in many a home in far away Ireland.
Mothers were weeping in sorrow and disconsolation. The country was
torn by the conflicting emotions of pride in her sons and grief for
their loss. It can be truly said that these young Irishmen gave their
lives for civilisation and the freedom of Nationalities. But the
immediate inspiration of their bravery was love of Ireland, and the
resolve which sprang from it, that there should be no occasion for a
word to be spoken in prejudice of the fighting qualities of the race,
of the valour which Irish regiments have displayed on the battlefield
at all times and in every clime.

CHAPTER VII

IN THE REST CAMP

HOW THE LEINSTERS CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF THE NARROWS

For five days and nights the Irish troops who took Chocolate Hill, or
Dublin Hill, on Saturday, August 7th, lay in the captured Turkish
entrenchments before they could be relieved. The men were in the
highest spirits over their exploit. But they felt stiff and sore and
very, very dirty. They had sand in their clothes, sand in their hair,
sand in their eyes, sand in their mouths and nostrils, and their faces
and hands were black with the grime of powder and the smoke of the
bush fires. And now, upon all that, they had to endure the particular
discomforts and hardships which attend a campaign in a dry and torrid
land.

The greatest trouble arose from the scarcity of fresh water to
mitigate the tropical heat. The wells were few and far between, and
being within range of the Turkish guns, were, all of them, constantly
shelled. The quantity of water that could be brought to Dublin Hill
was totally inadequate to satisfy the demand. The supply was strictly
reserved for drinking purposes. Water was too scarce and precious to
be wa