yce was afterwards awarded the Russian Order of St George.

On the 15th August 1915 we were relieved by a Lowland Scots Brigade of
the 52nd Division, and moved to what were then called the Scotch
dug-outs, a bivouac about two and a half miles behind the fire trenches
upon the central plateau of the Peninsula. It was hot and dusty, but
five minutes' walk led the weary to the cliff. We used to go down its
steep side on to the coast road, full of soldiers of the Allied Armies,
of carts and mules with long tassel fly protectors, and of Indian or
Zionist muleteers. Across the road a lighter was moored, from which we
bathed happily in a peaceful sea, with the pale blue contours of Imbros
and Samothrace cut clearly against the sky, and our trawlers and
cruisers moving up and down on their ceaseless watch between Cape Helles
and Anzac. Here and here alone was it possible to forget the brown
wilderness above the cliff, and all the toil and bloodshed between
ourselves and the summit of Achi Baba.

Casualties are soon forgotten in war. In the dusty and exposed dug-outs,
which were now our refuge, men revived. After the recent losses, it was
good to see our clever Territorials transforming what looked like dog
biscuits into a palatable porridge, cooking rice and raisins, picking
lice from their grey woollen shirts, reading papers (all very light and
very old), grumbling, but ever cheerful. It was in the Scotch dug-outs
that we heard of the loss of the _Royal Edward_ and of the German entry
into Warsaw; but already mails and food held the first place in our
minds. Man readjusts his sense of proportion as he enters a theatre of
war.

On the 19th August, Colonel Canning became temporary Brigadier. I thus
became Commanding Officer in his absence. The same day we left our
bivouac, and after a long, hot, march, through the dusty gorge called
Gully Ravine, we relieved another unit in the firing line on the
northerly side of that great artery of British life and traffic.

CHAPTER V

TRENCH WARFARE ON GALLIPOLI

The routine upon which the Battalion entered at this stage remained
almost unchanged until the evacuation. Our Headquarters, where I slept
when in command of the Battalion during Colonel Canning's various short
spells as acting Brigadier, were usually in some heather-covered gorge,
opening upon a deep blue sea. Essex Ravine was a frequent site. The side
of this ravine which faced the north-east protruded beyond the sid