ed, but I found them extraordinarily merciful as
compared with the enemy in Flanders."

Commander Wedgwood's first view of fighting at the Dardanelles was at
the so-called V beach, where a steamship, the "River Clyde," was run
aground to furnish cover for the landing of the British troops.

"This modern 'wooden horse of Troy,'" said Commander Wedgwood, "was run
ashore on a beautiful Sunday morning, 400 yards from the medieval castle
of Seddul-Bahr. I was on the vessel, but never noticed her grounding for
the horrors ahead of us in the shallow waters on the beach. Five tows of
five boats each, loaded with men, were going ashore alongside of us.
One moment it had been early morning in a peaceful country, with rustic
sights and sounds and smells; the next moment, while the boats were just
twenty yards from shore, the blue sea around each boat was turning red.
It was truly horrible. Of all those brave men two-thirds died, and
hardly a dozen reached unwounded the shelter of the five-foot sand dune.

"About 9 o'clock a dash across the row of lighters from the Wooden Horse
was led by Gen. Napier and his brigade major. Would they ever get to the
end of the lighters and jump into the sheltering water? No; side by side
they were seen to sit down. For one moment one thought they might be
taking cover; then their legs slid out and they rolled over.

"It was the Munsters that charged first, with a sprig of shamrock on
their caps; then the Dublins, the Worcesters, the Hampshires. Lying on
the beach, on the rocks, on the lighters, they cried on the Mother of
God. There, now, was Midshipman Drury swimming to a lighter which had
broken loose, with a line in his mouth and a wound in his head. If ever
a boy deserved his Victoria Cross, that lad did. And there was the
captain of the River Clyde, now no longer a ship to be stuck to but a
part forever of Gallipoli, alone with a boat by the spit of rock, trying
to lift in the wounded under fire.

"All these things I saw as in a dream. Columns of smoke rose from the
castle and town of Seddul-Bahr as the great shells from the fleet passed
over our heads and burst, and in every lull we heard the wounded.

"At 1 o'clock the Lancashires were appearing over the ridge to the left
from 'Lancashire landing.' "We saw fifteen men in a window in the
castle on the right by the water. They signaled that they were all that
remained of the Dublins who had landed at the Camber at Seddul-Bahr. At
3 o'cloc