January 7th
It is another beautiful morning, and the wind is in the north-east. We had some rain in the night, and in consequence the ground is rather muddy. All transport is now under the control of the VIII Corps Transport Depot. The shooting of those animals which it will not be possible to get off to-night will be begun and finished off to-morrow, and all vehicles left will be destroyed. This morning I walk up with Hyslop to D.H.Q. As we pass the Stationary Hospital we see a cluster of mules wandering about, grazing on the scanty grass that is still growing in odd patches on the plateau. We hear the whistle of a shell, which proves a very small one and a dud, and which falls in the middle of them with a “fut.” They jump about a bit, and then calmly go on smelling for grass. Soon after another follows, also a dud. Evidently the Turkish gunner who has fired is a sportsman, and has made a bet with another that he will get a bull’s-eye first shot. Soon after we hear the whine overhead of the howitzer shells, travelling seemingly to “W” Beach, fired in grim earnest and not as a sporting shot, like the two duds at the mules.
Looking at the gunnery from the Turkish gunners’ point of view, it must have been all through this campaign a sort of series of field days for them, with their guns in position on commanding heights, and with the targets nearly always open sights and on the low lands. It is fortunate for us that only lately they have been receiving regular supplies of good ammunition. If they had had the artillery that the Germans had before Ypres, twenty-four hours on any single day throughout the eight months that we have been here would have turned the campaign in favour of Turkey, and meant utter defeat and unconditional surrender for us. As we are therefore at the end of it all, and shall soon once more hand back to Turkey the remaining insignificant few acres of ground that we had captured and held after so much gallantry, endurance, and bloodshed, we must be thankful and congratulate ourselves that we are disentangled from the quagmire with our Army intact. I may have spoken too soon, but if we are as fortunate as we were at Suvla, we can disappear in a night, although the enemy knows we are going. We expect him to attack shortly to test our strength. If we hold him and inflict losses on him, that will keep him quiet for a day or so; during these days we have our great chance to evacuate without loss, and with our Army intact.
We get very heavily shelled in the afternoon, several from Asia bursting within a few yards of our office and one actually at the mouth of the tunnel, which was crowded with men taking cover. While this is going on the enemy make a concentrated bombardment on a part of our front line held by the 13th Division and a part of the 87th Brigade. It lasted continuously from 3.30 p.m. to 5.30 p.m., and caused about a hundred and fifty casualties. At the end they made half-hearted attempts to leave their trenches to attack ours, but the few small parties that had the bravery to get out into No-man’s-land were stopped dead by our machine-gun fire, and the show petered out. Now, therefore, is our chance, either to-night or to-morrow. This afternoon’s attack was probably made to test our strength, and as they suffered as much as we did, if not more, they will pause awhile before attacking again.
After this attack finished, the shelling on the beaches almost entirely ceased, and when night fell I was able in peace to start a job which proved very tedious, namely of putting up rations, ammunition, and water in petrol-cans into a dugout on “W” Beach, where it would be useful in case of a rearguard action. The filling of the petrol-cans is the tedious part of the job, the cans having to be let down by a rope into the reservoir, which lies twenty yards from our dugout on the top of the cliff. While I am in the middle of this job, an order from VIII Corps H.Q. comes that I am to leave with all the A.S.C. details to-night. As I have already received an order from D.H.Q. to go off to-morrow night, I reply that I am sending the men with the remaining officers and am going with D.H.Q. to-morrow. I get two gallons of water, some bully, biscuits, and cheese put in my dugout. I send all my kit off with my servant, who places some hay on the floor for my bed for this, my last night, and go back to finish the job I am on. To-morrow will be monotonous, waiting for the evening with nothing to do; but I have a good book to read and plenty of tobacco, and the day will soon pass. I am to go off at 6 p.m.
At 10 p.m. a written order comes down from VIII Corps that I am to go off to-night with the others, for to-morrow is “Z” night, and the beaches must be cleared as far as possible of non-combatant details. I go to VIII Corps Signals and telephone D.H.Q., who say I can go. I finish the job of putting the water in cans in the keep at twelve midnight and go back to my dugout. All have left except five men. Two of them landed with me on “W” Beach on the first day.