at "W" Beach. What a scene! An
ants' nest in revolution. Five hundred of our fighting men are running
to and fro between cliffs and sea carrying stones wherewith to improve
our pier. On to this pier, picket boats, launches, dinghies, barges, all
converge through the heavy swell with shouts and curses, bumps and
hair's-breadth escapes. Other swarms of half-naked soldiers are
sweating, hauling, unloading, loading, road-making; dragging mules up
the cliff, pushing mules down the cliff: hundreds more are bathing, and
through this pandemonium pass the quiet stretchers bearing pale,
blood-stained, smiling burdens. First we spent some time speaking to
groups of Officers and men and hearing what the Beachmasters and
Engineers had to say; next we saw as many of the wounded as we could and
then I walked across to the Headquarters of the 29th Division (half a
mile) to see Hunter-Weston. A strange abode for a Boss; some holes
burrowed into a hillock. In South Africa, this feature which looks like,
and actually is, a good observing post, would have been thoroughly
searched by fire. The Turks seem, so far, to have left it pretty well
alone.
After a long talk during which we fixed up a good many moot points, went
on to see General d'Amade. Unluckily he had just left to go on to the
Flagship to see me. I did not like to visit the French front in his
absence, so took notes of the Turkish defences on "V" and had a second
and a more thorough inspection of the beach, transport and storage
arrangements on "W."
Roper, Phillimore (R.N.) and Fuller stood by and showed me round.
At 1.30 p.m. re-embarked on the _Q.E._ and sailed towards Gaba Tepe.
After watching our big guns shooting at the enemy's field pieces for
some time I could stand it no longer--the sight seeing I mean--and
boarded the destroyer _Colne_ which took me towards the beach. Commodore
Keyes came along, also Pollen, Dawnay and Jack Churchill. Our destroyer
got within a hundred yards or so of the shore when we had to tranship
into a picquet boat owing to the shallow water. Quite a good lot of
bullets were plopping into the water, so the Commodore ordered the
_Colne_ to lie further out. At this distance from the beach, withdrawn a
little from the combat, (there was a hottish scrimmage going on), and
yet so close that friends could be recognised, the picture we saw was
astonishing. No one has ever seen so strange a spectacle and I very much
doubt if any one will ever see it
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