ine until we were forced back
by Turkish counter-attacks in the afternoon and evening of the 25th. The
whole stretch is now dominated by Turkish fire from the ridges, and
along it lie the bodies of those killed at the first onset, and
afterwards in the New Zealand bayonet charge. Several boats are stranded
along this no man's land; so far all attempts to get out at night and
bury the dead have only led to fresh losses. No one ever landed out of
these boats--so they say.

Towards evening we re-embarked on the _Colne_ and at the very moment of
transhipment from the picquet boat the enemy opened a real hot shrapnel
fire, plastering with impartiality and liberality our trenches, our
beaches and the sea. The _Colne_ was in strangely troubled water, but,
although the shot fell all about her, neither she nor the picquet boat
was touched. Five minutes later we should have caught it properly! The
Turkish guns are very well hidden now, and the _Q.E._ can do nothing
against them without the balloon to spot; we can't often spare one of
our five aeroplanes for Gaba Tepe. Going back we had some long range
shots with the 15-inch guns at batteries in rear of Achi Baba.

Anchored off Cape Helles at dark. A reply in from Maxwell about the East
Lancs. They are coming!

The worst enemy a Chief has to face in war is an alarmist. The Turks are
indeed stout and terrifying fellows when seen, not in a poetry book but
in a long line running at you in a heavy jogtrot way with fixed bayonets
gleaming. But they don't frighten me as much as one or two of my own
friends. No matter. We are here to stay; in so far as my fixed
determination can make it so; alive or dead, we stay.

_30th April, 1915. H.M.S. Queen Elizabeth._ From dawn to breakfast time
all hands busy slinging shells--modern war sinews--piles of
them--aboard. The Turks are making hay while the sun shines and are
letting "V" Beach have it from their 6-inch howitzers on the plains of
Troy. So, once upon a time, did Paris shoot forth his arrows over that
selfsame ground and plug proud Achilles in the heel--and never surely
was any fabulous tendon more vulnerable than are our Southern beaches
from Asia. The audacious Commander Samson cheers us up. He came aboard
at 9.15 a.m. and stakes his repute as an airman that his fellows will
duly spot these guns and that once they do so the ships will knock them
out. I was so pleased to hear him say so that I took him ashore with me
to "W" Beach, wh