lies' line across the Peninsula, and here I saw the last phase of our
warfare on Gallipoli. Sir Ian Hamilton had gone. All ideas of a renewed
offensive had disappeared. After the 24th October the Turks enjoyed
direct communication with Germany, and at Cape Helles there was no sign
of revived strategy or rejuvenated tactics. Our work was simply to carry
on and hold out. Some of the other Divisions took steps to guard their
men against the menace of a "Crimean winter" by preparing sheltered
quarters. Great flights of geese used to fly in V-shaped formations high
over our heads on their way from Russia to Egypt. They were augurs of
our own eventual migration.

The new position of the Battalion was on Fusilier Bluff, a mile to the
west of the ruins of Krithia. The left ran straight down to the sea,
where monitors used to shell the enemy's positions, while destroyers
watched the flank, and at night played flashlights on the ravine that
divided us from the next bluff, where the Turks were entrenched. This
ground had been won in the brilliant British advance of the 28th June.
The Turkish line was close to ours, and our men were always on the
strain. Incidents were common. On the 2nd November a Turk crawled along
the beach with a white flag, and surrendered. At night the Turks built
up in front of their parapet, and two were shot by Sergeant Stanton. One
of our men was killed and two were wounded. On the 3rd, another man was
killed by a bomb, while the daily drain of sickness went on unabated.
General Elliott, at this period our Brigadier, was an energetic pioneer
of new methods and more vigorous tactics. He had the Mule Saps improved.

Even, however, in the secluded Headquarters at Bruce's Ravine I could
not keep my health, and Hummel's art was unavailing.

The average soldier on Gallipoli broke down after a month or two.
Comparatively few endured more than three months. Of our officers only
Scott (the Quartermaster) and Fawcus were on the Peninsula from start to
finish, though Colonel Canning, Higham and Chadwick had almost as fine
a record. Few of the sick came back to Turkey.

Some, like my first batman Dinsdale, died in hospital at Alexandria or
in Malta. Many went to England and passed into other units. Others
rejoined later in Egypt. Somehow, in peace times we had never imagined
that the Battalion could be so dispersed and broken.

My departure from Gallipoli is perhaps worth a description. Would that
the wounded her