weakened
Brigade. On the British right the 88th Brigade pushed back the Turks
easily enough at first, but afterwards they too came up against stiffer
resistance from what seemed to be fresh enemy formations until at last,
i.e., about mid-day, they were held up. The Reserve were then ordered to
pass through and attack. Small parties are reported to have got into
Krithia and one complete Battalion gained a position commanding
Krithia--so Wemyss has been credibly informed; but things went wrong;
they seem to have been _just_ too weak.

Hunter-Weston is confident as ever and says once his men have dug
themselves in, even a few inches, they will hold what they have gained
against any number of Turks.

We have been handicapped by the trouble that is bred in the bone of any
landing on enemy soil. The General wants to strike quick and hard from
the outset. To do so he must rush his men ashore and by very careful
plans he may succeed; but even then, unless he can lay hands upon
wharves, cranes, and all the mechanical appliances to be found in an
up-to-date harbour, he cannot keep up the supply of ammunition, stores,
food, water, on a like scale. He cannot do this because, just in
proportion as he is successful in getting a large number of men on shore
and in quickly pushing them forward some distance inland, so will it
become too much for his small craft and his beach frontage to cope with
the mule transport and carts. Hence, shortage of ammunition and shortage
of water, which last was the worse felt to-day. But the heavy fighting
at the landings was what delayed us most.

An enemy aeroplane (a Taube) has been dropping bombs on and about the
_River Clyde_.

There is little of the "joy of the contest" in fighting battles with
worn-out troops. Even when the men respond by doing wonders, the
Commander is bound to feel his heart torn in two by their trials, in
addition to having his brain tortured on anxiety's rack as to the
result. The number of Officers we have lost is terrible.

Seen from the Flagship, the sun set exactly behind the purple island of
Imbros, and as it disappeared sent out long flame-coloured streamers
into the sky. The effect was that of a bird of Paradise bringing balm to
our overwrought nerves.

Have published the following order:--

"I rely on all Officers and men to stand firm and steadfast to resist
the attempt of the enemy to drive us back from our present position
which has been so gallantly won.