lid mass of the enemy showed itself
crossing the green patch--and then the good _Queen Lizzie_ picked up her
targets--crash!!! Stop your ears with wax.

The fire slackened. The attack had ebbed away; our fellows were holding
their ground. A few, very few, little dots had run back over that green
patch--the others had passed down into the world of darkness.

A signaller was flag-wagging from a peak about the left centre of our
line:--"The boys will never forget the _Queen Elizabeth's_ help" was
what he said.

Jack Churchill was right. At 1.50 a wireless came in to say that the
Irish and Hants from the _River Clyde_ had forced their way through
Sedd-el-Bahr village and had driven the enemy clean out of all his
trenches and castles. Ah, well; _that_ load is off our minds: every one
smiling.

Passed on the news to Birdwood: I doubt the Turks coming on again--but,
in case, the 29th Division's feat of arms will be a tonic.

I was wrong. At 3 p.m. the enemy made another effort, this time on the
left of our line. We shook them badly and were rewarded by seeing a New
Zealand charge. Two Battalions racing due North along the coast and
foothills with levelled bayonets. Then again the tumult died away.

At 4.30 we left Gaba Tepe and sailed for Helles. At 4.50 we were
opposite Krithia passing "Y" Beach. The whole of the troops, plus
wounded, plus gear, have vanished. Only the petrol tins they took for
water right and left of their pathway up the cliff; huge diamonds in the
evening sun. The enemy let us slip off without shot fired. The last
boat-load got aboard the _Goliath_ at 4 p.m., but they had forgotten
some of their kit, so the Bluejackets rowed ashore as they might to
Southsea pier and brought it off for them--and again no shot fired!

Hove to off Cape Helles at quarter past five. Joyous confirmation of
Sedd-el-Bahr capture and our lines run straight across from "X" to Morto
Bay, but a very sad postscript now to that message: Doughty Wylie has
been killed leading the sally from the beach.

The death of a hero strips victory of her wings. Alas, for Doughty
Wylie! Alas, for that faithful disciple of Charles Gordon; protector of
the poor and of the helpless; noblest of those knights ever ready to lay
down their lives to uphold the fair fame of England. Braver soldier
never drew sword. He had no hatred of the enemy. His spirit did not need
that ugly stimulant. Tenderness and pity filled his heart and yet he had
the overfl