It seemed at last we were drawing into port. The land was more defined, and rolled up from the sea in peaceful grassy slopes, chequered with squares of cultivation, and marked with lonely dots which later might grow into hamlet or farm. Nearer—always nearer—the ship steered, until the waterway had narrowed to a ribbon, and the island discovered itself entirely, presenting cliffs which swept into the water, and beaches shelving smoothly down. Caressing breezes came over to us, like breaths from a promised land.
We could not name the place. Scores of faces watched the approaching hills, scores of tongues cried out where we had arrived. Many declared for the Dardanelles; as many for Tenedos; as many for Lemnos; but it remained to watch and wait. Finally we were moving parallel with the shore, towards a cape directly ahead—everywhere the gentle slopes climbed up towards the hills, carrying vegetation all the way. Sunbeams flecked the pasture land, and swept across the squaresof cultivation. Balmy breezes floated to us anew.
We steered beyond the cape, and two great jaws of land opened wide. Inwards we steamed. And behold, the spell was shattered. Again our cries broke out.
We were entering a large and sheltered bay, where the same green hills climbed from the sea, the same patches of cultivation marked the easier slopes, and the same hamlets clustered in the shelter of the valleys. But these things had not loosed our tongues.
A mighty fleet lay at anchor in the land-locked waters—two fleets indeed: a battle fleet, and a fleet of transports. It was a wondrous spectacle to come across by an out-of-the-world shore. Across the mouth of the bay had been drawn a net, past which no enemy submarine might find passage; and beyond the net anchored in safety all these craft of war. Grim battleships lay there, and swift cruisers with sunlight slipping over their grey sides. Low black destroyers found place beside them; and a submarine, half submerged, with the crew upon the conning tower, and the sea climbing to right and left out of her path, passed down the thoroughfare. Trawlers, tugboats, colliers, lighters, mine-sweepers—all that can be named were anchored before us; and giant liners swayed their cables and showed decks crammed with uniformed men.
Noble was that company, and one there was nobler than all. Long and low and plain of detail, theQueen Elizabethnursed jealously her fifteen-inchguns. Through the lines she moved now: she passed the open net into the outer bay: she gathered speed and churned towards the Dardanelles. Only a broad wake remained as signal of her passage.
In such way we arrived in Mudros Harbour and took our place in the waiting company.
On one another’s heels the days went by, and still we lay at anchor in the sheltered waters, impatience growing with each rumour and fresh delay. New transports continued to arrive, whereby daily the bay became more crowded; and there were reports of yet more transports on the way. We were to weigh anchor to-morrow. Now we were remaining for a fortnight. Now Turkey discussed terms of peace and we would not be wanted. Such rumours were born each morning. Each day saw a like programme performed—stables, stables, and again stables. Grumbling flourished as the green bay tree.
I was not the quietest of the growlers—yet, even so, I never quite shook off the glamour of that island set in the Aegean. Never was there an early morning when skies were not blue and waters unruffled. Breezes softer and more scented than any human kisses floated perpetually to us from the green hills. Every sunrise brought the same brisk scene, when gigs, cutters, and small boats of a hundred designs plied between the giant ships. Against our sides bumboats would presently collect, handled by wily Greeks with offerings of tobacco, dried fruits and nuts, orTurkish delight and chocolate. Business was always brisk until whisky arrived abroad, and afterwards the bumboats came no more. Aye, the magic of those mornings stays with me.
There were days when the battleships left the anchorage: and the smaller craft, such as the destroyers, were active at all hours. Hither and thither through the lines they moved at speed, coming and going on their journeyings. Many a time I wondered over their business.
But if the mornings could discover fairyland, the nights knew the secret no less. Many an evening the sun went down behind shadowy hills which circled a bay of glass, whereon destroyers had ceased to manœuvre and last rowing boats were putting home. While the deeper shadows found a road over the water, it might be a belated submarine churned by, conning tower a-wash, like a strange monster of the deep.
Then the day’s work was over, and men gathered on deck for the breezes which revived about this hour, or settled below to gamble until “Lights out” was blown. The hills would retreat, the water would turn to formless grey, and the great boats would give up their shape. The stars would look out; and to rival them, a thousand lanterns shone forth upon the waters. Far into the night—all through it, I vouch—winked the Morse lights. “Dot, dash, dot: dot, dot, dash.”
When evening aged, and man’s energy had revived, we held sing-songs on the deck below the bridge. No bright peculiar star illuminedthe meetings; but Time passed by on lighter foot. B Battery had a song by a poet of theirs, which always scored encores. It ran like this:
We are the boys of this good Batterie,The joy and the pride of the Artillerie;We do not like work; but what soldiers do?And we’re after the Turk on the good shipHindoo.
We are the boys of this good Batterie,The joy and the pride of the Artillerie;We do not like work; but what soldiers do?And we’re after the Turk on the good shipHindoo.
We are the boys of this good Batterie,The joy and the pride of the Artillerie;We do not like work; but what soldiers do?And we’re after the Turk on the good shipHindoo.
We are the boys of this good Batterie,
The joy and the pride of the Artillerie;
We do not like work; but what soldiers do?
And we’re after the Turk on the good shipHindoo.
Later on men appeared with their bedding—a blanket and a rug, with a coat for pillow—something of that sort—and put it down in unoccupied spaces. The groups about the piano would thin, before ten o’clock lights on the troopdeck went out, the men turned into bed, and conversation died to whispers. So another day of waiting ended. Often I would lie awake to stare up at the chilly stars, or to watch the tireless winking of the Morse lights. At those times many a strange thought knocked at the doors of my brain.
At last it seemed our waiting was over. Rumour became persistent and less vague. Something of the plan of campaign was told us, and we were detailed to our boats and our duties. I was given a place in the first boat leaving the ship, as Colonel’s orderly. I took heart from that moment.
The plan of attack was in this manner. The Frenchmen were to land at Kum Kale on the Asiatic side; the British at Sed-el-Bahr opposite. The New Zealanders and ourselves would pass beyond the British, and attempt a point somewherenear Gaba Tepeh. A fleet of mine-sweepers was the van of the expedition, with cruisers to follow and cover the destroyers bearing the infantry. Behind came the artillery, behind them yet other units. The approach would be made by night, and the attack launched at break of day. The artillery transports carried two batteries from one brigade, and a single battery from another, with the idea that two boats might unload together, and a complete brigade be put ashore in record time. All horses would remain on board a day or two at least. Such meagre details we received; but we were told everything had been considered, and the undertaking would prove among the greatest of history.
Finally arrived the afternoon of the last day.
Through the morning there had seemed no unusual preparation: indeed the lively destroyers were drawn up in a little fleet on one side, where they steamed idly all day. With declining afternoon there came a rattling of our anchor cables and a general business of seamen, and later the murmurings of turning screws: and, before it might be realised, our boat was swinging and moving down that populous thoroughfare towards the open sea. Up went a burst of voices, up and across the bay; and to starboard and to port of us decks filled with khakied men. Solemnly we moved along. Many a noble craft of war we passed, with cold grey sides and polished guns; many a splendid liner bearing a townshipful of men. Past all we went—past all—and through the open net into the outer bay. Our enginesslowed again, cables roared and rattled anew, and the anchors plunged into the sea. Here we must wait until the final hour.
We were of the earliest transports to move. Now the fleet followed us in single procession. Some anchored in our neighbourhood, many steamed on towards the horizon; there seemed no rule. The sun sank down, and ocean and skyline met in a clear rim; and where they met, tiny black cruisers were silhouetted against the light. They were to guard us through the night.
The sun rim was a-dip. Close to starboard of us had anchored a French trooper, and now about her clustered a weird fleet of pinnaces, towing chains of open boats. We were wondering at the meaning of the sight when word arrived that the Frenchmen would practise a landing. The boats filled with men, the signal was given, the pinnaces steamed at speed for the shore. Like hurrying serpents they swept through the oily waters to meet the land as dusk descended.
Against the glowing sky I noted the heads of the men moving above their huddled bodies, and the thin rifle barrels bristling everywhere. One could not see the faces, one could only imagine; yet I know the uneasy and the stern were there; and those who called on One mightier than themselves to help them through the morrow.
Down went the sun: upon the ocean lamps came out, and lamps came out in the sky. The green and red lights of the hospital ships glitteredlike fairy palaces. All evening, and into the night, boats threaded the way out of harbour. The hours went by. “Lights out” was blown. Upon the quiet ocean a navy and an army rested. Yet maybe one or two forms stayed restless, dreaming of the dawn.
I was on stable picket. About seven o’clock I carried my blankets down on to the horse deck, and laid them out on the hatchway between the bales of lucerne. The hatch above was open, so that I could look straight up into the sky; but even then the air was close and musty, for there was little wind abroad and none found a way down here. The horses moved wearily in the stalls, rattling head-chains and stamping impatiently. They were as tired of the voyage as ourselves. Now one rubbed itself endlessly against the bars of the stall, now a mare snapped spitefully at a neighbour. Everywhere dwelt the musty odour of manure and hay.
The other pickets sat by their lines, and talked and smoked, and kept an eye on the companion for the orderly officer. I walked up and down, patting some of the horses and calling out to the biters and kickers. I felt as restless as the worst of them. All my thoughts were of the morning. Presently I sat on a bale of lucerne, and dropped my chin on to my hands. Still went on the rattling of chains and the shuffling of feet. But away from it all I travelled at last.
The horse deck was practically dark in places, for there was a single electric lamp hanging low over the hatchway for every man to knock himselfagainst, or stumble over with an oath. It would be better later on. The stars shone lustily through the open, and soon there would be part of a moon. My thoughts travelled further and further from the present, until the horses and their ill-temper were forgotten.
There came steps down the companion. The pickets sprang to their feet, hid the cigarettes and paced up and down. The alarm was false. Mr. Campbell arrived to look at his mare. He came round to where I sat, patted her shoulder, and started to call her pet names. Then he saw me.
“Good evening, Lake,” he said. “I came along to have a look at ‘Bonnie.’”
“Have you any news to give, sir?” I said.
“Yes. We leave here at midnight. At four o’clock we pass the French landing, and at five we shall see the British. We are going some distance beyond them. The infantry have started already.”
“Thank God we’re making a move at last,” I said.
“Yes, Lake,” was his answer, and he laughed. There followed a little pause, and then he said, “Good night, Lake,” and went up the companion.
I sat down again on the bale. I was surprised to find how fast the time had gone, for my relief arrived a few minutes later. We talked for more than half an hour, and then I turned into bed. I rolled up in the blankets and started to read. I was directly under the light, and I had a magazineto finish. I read and read, feeling utterly unlike sleep. I read until I yawned my head off. The heavy air and monotonous noises made me drowsy, and still I could not sleep.
The picket that had relieved me was relieved in his turn. The magazine was finished. I threw it aside and lay back, yet I felt less like sleep than ever. Overhead the stars had circled half-way round the sky. They were less bright, so I knew the moon had come up. Surely it must be midnight, said I.
Just then there came much movement overhead, and a turning of winches and a roaring of cables, and I knew we weighed anchor for the last time. Up jumped the pickets crying, “We’re off, boys, we’re off”—and one ran up the ladder like a monkey and climbed on to the upper deck. Presently he poked his head down into the light. “We’re off all right: it’s dinkum this time!” The screws began to turn, and the boat began very gently to throb. The movement woke up the horses and set them shuffling in the stalls, rattling with new energy the head-chains. I lay on the broad of my back and stared straight up.
“Gunner Lake, Gunner Lake, beyond those lights Azrael arises and spreads out his wings. At dawn he flies wide for his harvest, to return at even with much booty. The merry of to-day will be with him, and the downhearted; the blasphemous and the pure will be there: here and there he will have flown, picking up without choice and design. Aye, Gunner Lake, even youmay be of that silent company. Is that why you toss here to-night, and woo sleep so vainly? Go, rest—what matters it? Let the Book of Death be opened wide; and be your name writ there, add to it a bold AMEN.”
I ended by waking up quite late in the morning—not only ended by waking up late, in fact, but even by forgetting the undertaking ahead of us. I discovered myself on my back, looking through the open hatchway at the sky, where a pleasant breeze found a way down, and drove off the musty odours of manure and pressed lucerne. For half a minute maybe I lay thus, thinking of nothing much, and hearing in a far-off way the shuffling of the horses. Then of a sudden the business before us came into my brain like a thunderclap; and I read a fresh meaning into the scene. Daylight had crept nearly over the sky, and the deck above was full of men come up for the morning wash, with towels about their necks and soap in their hands. Instead of washing, all looked in one direction. The landing, of course.
Up went my head, and I listened hard for the guns, but not a sound I caught. I did not wait long after that. In three minutes my toilet was finished, and up the ladder two rungs at a timeI went, to find myself on the hatch top and a big crowd of fellows all round me.
The first thing I noticed was the stiff breeze. The air was full of salt. I slid down from the uncertain perch into the crowd, and made a way to the rail. Considering the breeze the sea moved very little, and the weather gave promise of becoming fine and clear. However, it was not light enough to see properly the horizon, and after a long look round I had distinguished nothing. I came across Wilkinson and Lancashire.
“Can you see anything?” I said. “I can’t see a thing or hear a damned thing either.”
“No, there’s nothing doing yet,” they answered.
“I thought we were to pass the French about four o’clock?”
“We did pass them a long time ago, but too far out. They’re looking for the English landing now; but I heard a bloke say we wouldn’t pass it before breakfast.”
I went on to the troop deck after that, for a towel and soap. There were still a good many fellows rolled up in the hammocks or on the floor or the mess tables. Any who were awake called out to know what was going on, and hearing nothing, settled down to another ten minutes. I had my wash and a hairbrush, and next went to the parade deck, and stayed leaning over the rails listening for the guns until the trumpeter blew “Stables.”
For an hour we were in stables doing the usualthings; and I think affairs went less wearily. On the way to breakfast not a man did not linger to discover what might be seen or heard; but no sign or sound of battle did we obtain. The sea rolled away on every side, as it had done a score of mornings before; and now the horizon was quite clear, and proved void of battleships or any craft at all.
I forget what there was for breakfast. It was curry, I think. I know there was less of a scramble than usual, as a number of fellows stayed above hoping to see something, and others were excited and off their appetite. For my part I filled up well, not being overcertain of the next meal, and when I could tackle no more I went straight up on deck again.
All along the starboard side of the boat fellows were hanging over the rails: there was a great crowd of them, half the boat’s company at least. I edged a way in among them, asking what was doing. “Can’t you hear the guns?” someone said. And nobody said anything else.
There was absolutely nothing to be seen, so I put my head on one side and listened. Beyond the breathing and coughing of the others, the many noises of the vessel and the shifting of the seas, I distinguished nothing, certainly no sound of guns; and then all at once I picked it up, and afterwards never lost it. It was faint, faint, ever so far away, an endless, tireless grumbling or murmuring. I drank the sound rather than heard it. It was like a draught of thunder and champagne.
Fresh fellows came up from breakfast, and pressed behind us. Some would cry out and some say nothing, according to their nature; but, all considered, it was a sober gathering. Aye, and there was reason, too. Three hours, four hours on, and some of us would have started a journey where the echo of those guns might not follow.
I stayed on and on there, and nobody else seemed to go away. The while that firing grew more distinct, until it was no more a muttering, but had become a sullen, weariless booming, soaring up and down, a booming with the power to intoxicate the heart. I listened with soberness befitting a guest at one of Death’s At Homes; and yet I was ready to shout too, shout that I was coming, that soon I would be there.
We had kept a fair speed all the way; but now methought we slowed somewhat, as though it might be we were ahead of time. The other transports closed a fraction, and we drew up with two boats ahead, and thus, somewhat bunched, steamed towards the menacing horizon.
At last our watching was rewarded. Out of the horizon drifted the battle.
There climbed into the sky what seemed a barren mountainous land, and where this country gathered in a headland of some prominence a number of boats lay out at sea. They were no more than dots upon the water. It was the fleet.
Now the gunfire was distinct and threatening,like—I don’t know what it was like, I can’t find words—but a grander and more awful sound I had not heard.
The battle came towards us, and we must have travelled faster than I believed, for very soon afterwards the fleet had taken shape, and next we saw the shells shatter in vast dust clouds on the heights. The solemn roll of the guns was no more. It had grown into a series of thunderous broken explosions. Now the flashes showed, and now we could distinguish the battleships from the transports close in shore. Now we found the water dotted over with mine-sweepers and tugs, and Heaven knows what else besides! Captive to one of these tugs, and well out to sea, hung high up a staring yellow balloon. They were “spotting” from it.
At first we had seemed to be steering directly for the centre of battle; but now it was evident we would pass far to the left hand. We were drawing into the medley of small craft whose duty was over, and now waited on the outskirts of the fray. Farthest of all from danger was the big yellow balloon, and in time we came nearly under it, and I threw back my head and stared up, envying the man there with his telescopes.
For on deck one could really see very little. The land did not seem far off, and yet it must have been miles away, for one could make out nothing beyond the outline of the battleships, and the great shell-bursts on the ridges: no sign of men or targets, nothing of that sort. Thegunflashes, the smoke clouds, and the voices of the explosions were endless and very distinct, for now we were level with the point, and about as near as we should ever be. For some time our speed had lessened a good deal, but even so we made good headway, as very soon the battle had fallen behind, and we were drawing out of the crowded waters. The gunfire died into the old endless roll, and once again we were left listening and looking at one another.
The coast ran on and on along our starboard side, and all the way appeared the same mountainous barren land. The morning had turned out duller than it promised: there were patches of sunshine and patches of cloud, and a dullness along the horizon hinting at rain later on. I believe we slowed still more after this. We seemed only to drift forward. And then the trumpeter blew “Stables.”
Nobody showed readiness to go below and sweat among the horses; but before long we were jostling one another down the companion, and next starting at the old game of rolling out the mats and exercising. The hatches of the hold were open, for fellows were down below fusing shells, and loading up the waggons; and this cramped us for room more than ever, and added a risk into the bargain.
Now as morning wore on, the rumble of guns came down to us once more, and started us listening anew. Every minute brought the sounds with greater distinctness, until the even roll a second time broke into many separate explosions.I should have liked to run up the ladder and find out what was going forward, but Mr. Gardiner stood at the bottom, and I resigned myself to follow on in the weary procession of men and horses.
Three or four of our fellows were on deck, hauling up by rope the baskets of manure as we filled them. All of a sudden there was no reply to our tuggings and oaths, and at last a man went up to find out what was the matter. The messenger himself disappeared for three or four minutes, and then the whole party turned up suddenly to look over the hatch side and cry out that there was a bonza affair going on ahead. Several men threw over what they were doing and sneaked away, and in a few minutes’ time Mr. Gardiner himself went off, leaving us alone. After that I decided to have a look on my own account. I had just put back my horse, and up the ladder I went and stepped on to deck.
There were a good many fellows about, all staring ahead. We were coming into another battle, only we were nearer into land this time, so that the vegetation could be made out; also there seemed more craft engaged or standing by, and the shell-bursts were splashing on the hills in the merriest manner. Even now we were several miles removed from matters, and, looking over the side, one seemed almost at a standstill. I could not stay long, as Mr. Gardiner might reappear at any moment, so I dodged back again, and took out the next horse. But I need not have hurried. Gardiner had not returned, andmost of the other fellows were gone. They straggled back one by one, talking with animation, and even laughing and calling out. We passed the news with sundry additions to the people sitting on the shells in the bowels of the ship; and before we had properly finished, Mr. Gardiner turned up again, and the slow machinery got into motion. For the next half-hour, next hour perhaps, the gunfire grew more distinct, until it was obvious the fight must be quite near at hand. In spite of—or perhaps because of—the general unrest of the Staff, every horse received full share of exercise, and towards midday there were still half a dozen animals to take out. However, I decided I had done enough for the morning. I edged behind the feed-bin, and at first chance went up the gangway. What I saw there kept me watching.
We had drifted right into the battle. I suppose we were lying two or three miles off shore, though it looked no distance over the water. The land was quite distinct. The mountains seemed to run right down to the water’s edge, and were covered with vegetation—whether of size or not I could not tell—lying as closely as hairs sprout on a man’s head. Several big valleys ran into and over those hills, as though inviting us to follow them along; but though the sun shone just now across the landscape, I was not particularly enamoured of it. No! an uncharitable land, said I.
As a matter of fact I had no time for the land at first; I could not leave the sea. The waterteemed with boats, it floated a Noah’s Ark of boats—two of every build. There were Dreadnoughts and there were rowing boats, and there was everything else between. Our place was rather at the back of affairs, among other transports and such non-fighting craft; but even round here was a waiting destroyer or two, stationary it might be but panting to be off, smoke wisps curling from the funnels, men at the posts on deck, and an officer at the bridge with glasses clapped to his eyes.
The armoured boats were at work singly, some lying miles off their targets: and at short and uneven intervals one or other would send out long spouts of flame from her turrets, half hide herself behind a roll of grey smoke, and then reappear. Over the water followed a rumble or boom or bellow, according to size of gun or distance, and on the hilltops three or four funnels of dust would go up. Some of the targets were over the ridges, beyond our sight altogether; but frequently shells fell this side upon the dull green crests. I warrant many a tragedy was happening over there; but all looked very calm and empty across the sliding waters. There seemed no order of firing: it was one boat here and one there. The explosions were not as continuous as earlier in the morning, and I wondered if the crisis of affairs were passed.
At first it seemed we were having all our own way; but in time I discovered the enemy answered back from somewhere right over the hills. While I watched, the sea received their efforts;but in spite of this a feeling of uncertainty fluttered the spectator’s heart, for the shells I saw plunging into the sea were of the kind one would not stroll into twice. A destroyer but a few cable lengths away had a waterspout over her bows; and she did not wait for the Turkish gunner to correct his range. Our fellows were as eager as at a football final, and laughed at the misses and called out when a bull’s-eye was nearly scored. Before long I was hemmed in by a pushing, hard-breathing company.
I went down to the horse deck again. Gardiner was in his old place, and there was no difficulty in joining the crowd. The work was nearly over, men were putting back the last horses and mixing the feed. Quite soon came the order, “Turn out.”
Things were still the same on deck. The weather had improved. The sun was bright and hot. I went on to the top deck, and found Hawkins and one or two others there, and we sat on a hatch top and watched the battle. It was Sunday; but instead of church bells, we listened to twelve-inch guns. One of the party who had glasses picked up a company of our infantry in the scrub on top of the hills. I thought probably he lied, for I saw nothing; but he spoke the truth, as presently on to a patch of open land came a number of puny figures, and ahead of them plumped our shells with gay precision. They crowded the open space in quick time, and next the scrub engulfed them. There was no sign of the enemy, who must have been retreating. The rest ofour watching showed us nothing, the scrub telling no tales.
The battleships continued to range on to the hilltops and beyond them in a fairly busy manner and the enemy continued to answer. Once or twice the good shipHindooseemed to be a target, and I warrant a good many of us were set wondering where the next shell would fall; but none came aboard. We went on yarning and watching and calculating until “Cookhouse” went.
Tank had spent the morning flagwagging on the bridge. He was idle as our meeting broke up, and sat on the boards dangling his legs and looking at the battle. I went up and gave him a “Hallo.” He looked down.
“Well, what do you think of things?” said I. He screwed up his mouth and shrugged his shoulders.
“Yes, Corporal,” I went on, half in earnest and half in fun, looking into his face, “to-night a Tank or a Lake may lie spreadeagled over there.”
He answered quite seriously in his funny, jerky manner, “I am not coming back. I saw it quite plainly a little while ago. We went over in a boat, a lot of us, and got to shore, and I was running up the beach, and was hit and fell back. I saw it as plain as anything.” He was so serious he made me grin.
“I’m sorry to hear the news, Corporal,” I said. “You didn’t see me there by any chance?”
He looked at me in his sad way, and I couldnot help feeling sorry for him. There was no reason for it. Tank always over-ate and so had liver, and consequently got the blues. Yet I was always a little sorry.
Thinking of Tank’s liver reminded me “Cookhouse” had gone, and that I should go hungry unless I hurried. I went down to the mess deck, which hummed with life from end to end. Some ate at top speed, stretching over the tables for what they wanted and shovelling it into them. Others sat on the steam pipes round the room, putting together kits or cleaning rifles; and others yet hung out of portholes, and gave bulletins of the day.
I made a good dinner. The first boat left in a couple of hours, and this was the final meal on board. Afterwards I dumped my kit in a corner, put the rifle with it, and went on deck again.
All day the boat had seemed fuller than usual, everywhere there were crowds and to spare. The troop deck had overflowed with men, and now up here one had to thread a way about. Fellows still exclaimed and pointed whenever a shell dropped overnear; but on the whole the throng was quieter, though excited yet.
It was not long before Mr. Gardiner arrived and ordered those of the Staff detailed for landing to get into marching order. I girt myself with waterbottle and haversack, and hung the iron rations at my belt. There were a dozen other things about me too, and when I had pulled an overcoat over my shoulder and had taken holdof a rifle, I felt more ready for an armchair than an enemy to engage.
One or two of our fellows were on the parade deck ready for a final yarn, and I was not long pulling off my coat again and sitting down. We were not due to leave for two hours.
The crowding and bustling went on all the while, and the final hour came very fast. An empty barge was brought alongside and secured with hawsers, when it stayed to grate gently against us. A rope ladder was thrown over, and men went down and busied themselves making ready for the guns and limbers. There was more energy to-day than usual.
Norris had come on to the scene overloaded like myself. He and I were for the same boat, the first one. On his back was a box affair with a red cross on the lid. He came up to me where I stood craning over the side, watching the lowering of the guns and waggons. He said something, I’ve forgotten what. Nothing Norris said was ever of importance. Then someone whirled up to us and ordered us aboard the barge at once. I gathered all together, and with Norris pushed through the crowd to the rope-ladder. There were more people than ever just here, for the guns were going over, and the barge bobbed up and down, making their lowering no go-as-you-please affair. Orders and oaths were to be heard for the listening.
It was a good drop down to the barge—thirty foot, maybe—nor was the rope-ladder the easiest of stairways. With a prayer that Norris wouldnot fall on my head, I pushed up to the side, climbed over the rails, and got hold of the ladder. I felt as nimble as a steamroller, and glanced uneasily on to the uncompromising objects below. The farther I went, the more the ladder swayed; but in the end things were managed, and I stowed myself into a corner of the barge. She was broad and stout, seeming very safe from shipwreck; but she lifted up and down on the choppy sea like a playful elephant.
The loading was over. Three or four perspiring men knelt among the gun wheels making final lashings, and later one by one straightened their backs and went up the ladder.
The other fellows on the Staff had gone down to stables, and now and then someone would poke a head through the portholes to see how matters went. Witty remarks passed between us, and I was making my best retort when the colonel and adjutant showed above, and came climbing down the ladder. They made room for themselves beside me, and the only man now missing was the doctor. We had “A” Battery guns aboard, and “A” Battery fellows with them, of course.
There had been plenty of sunshine through the day; but the weather still looked uncertain. The sky was high up and blue and clear, and heavy white and grey clouds chased across it. Little gusts of wind got up of a sudden and passed with as slender warning. I hoped hard the evening would prove charitable. I had small fancy for a wet skin.
We waited only for the doctor, and just now a naval launch steamed out of nowhere towards us. In charge was a junior lieutenant, who ran it alongside and called out in high-pitched tones to know if we were ready. He was a big fellow, young and fat, and very much at his ease. No doubt he had run the gauntlet of the shore several times already. He wore his second or third best clothes, and they and his broad back gave him something of a church-going look. His manner was very mild.
The launch cast aboard us a hawser, and we fastened ourselves to her ——, I have no nautical terms.
“Are you ready, sir?” called the heavy lieutenant.
“No,” the colonel cried back. “The doctor’s not here! Where’s Doc?” he exclaimed impatiently to himself. “What’s the matter with the fellow?”
Just then the doctor showed up above, and the colonel, who had cast a hundred glances that way during the last five minutes, shouted out, “Hurry up, Doc, hurry up, man! We’re just off! You’re late, man! You’re late!”
The doctor came down the ladder as fast as he could, and half a dozen hands steadied him for the final drop. He was just aboard as the naval officer called out again, “If you’re ready, sir, cast off from the ship, please!” We threw overboard our ropes; and the launch, which had chug-chugged fussily alongside, moved up ahead of us, strained on our hawser, and took us in tow. Nowwe were moving gently through the waters, and the great hull of the ship towered above, and the fellows in hundreds hung over the side and sent after us their best luck. Woods’s black head looked through a porthole and gave me a couple of short nods, and I felt he envied me my seat. Then we were free from the ship and speeding briskly along. The sea was clearing of craft, and we turned towards the emptier ways. Next we had swung in our course and were steering towards the hills.
Now, as we passed into clearer waters, and the choppy waves splashed our sides, sending the clumsy barge bumping up and down, I drank a further draught of life’s champagne. The officers and fellows sat quietly in their places, all looking to the land which was growing into shape. No doubt I sat as quiet as any, no doubt my own eyes seldom left the land; but the moment I had often thought of was come, and I found myself ready for it.
Forward we went towards the frowning anchorage, at the pace of a pleasure boat making for a picnic ground. Ten minutes, five minutes, and we should meet their rifle fire. Aye, there we sat in the horse barge, as still as still could be, some shielded by the guns and waggons, some bent forward and very solemn, but all, I warrant, thankful the hour had struck. In the launch a cable’s length away every man was behind armour. The officer looked through a hole before him, and turned from time to time to the man at the spitting engine, or in spare moments examined theshape of his boots. The man at the engine was frowning and looking at the land.
We throbbed over the choppy waters, and the hills marched towards us, showing themselves full of ragged gulleys bristling with stunted scrub. Not a soldier moved among them, not a puff of smoke came out; but there was a roar of guns behind us, and there was a far-off bubbling sound ahead. I did not know what it meant then, I gave it small attention; but I was to learn its meaning well enough. Forward we went, and the band of waters narrowed, and a strip of sandy shore came out below the hills. Then high overhead passed a thin, singing sound, and the first bullet flicked the water yards away. We were within rifle range. “Get under cover, everyone!” somebody called out, and all who could dived down among the waggons. A second bullet went by and a third; but they passed high over, or to the right or left. But the sound was new and set me thinking.
We neared shore quickly now—half a mile of water was all that intervened. The beach was plainly to be seen as a narrow sandy stretch running as far as you like to right and left. And then I was surprised to find the whole flat crowded with people; and in places were stacks of stores in building, and straight before us was a wireless plant fully rigged. They were losing no time! And—Jove, yes!—there were sappers driving roads; and—Jove!—there was a mule battery passing from view.
As we bumped along, the one or two bulletsthat passed our way, and an odd dose of shrapnel falling generally afar off, were all the attention the enemy gave us; but nearing the land, matters warmed up. Steady doses of shrapnel were coming over the hills. They were meant for the beach, no doubt; but the angle of descent was tricky, and nearly all overshot the mark and hissed into the water. To hear the clap overhead and the rush of bullets on to the waves made one start measuring the distance to the friendly cliffs. I was down between a waggon wheel and the barge’s side, and, despite an uneasy feeling at heart, I must poke up my head from time to time to watch the widening shore and mark where the last shower of bullets had torn the waters.
Now we were close at hand, and every man rose on a knee, waiting the order to jump ashore. “I’m leaving you now, sir,” came the lieutenant’s high voice. “They’ll land you from shore, sir!” The launch slowed up, cast us off and backed out to sea, and on we passed under our own way. “Hey, there,” the lieutenant shouted, “get this barge ashore!” And that was the last I saw of the launch, for, if she were brave, she was prudent, and I heard her chug-chug for safer waters.
A party of men ran across the beach, caught our ropes and threw themselves with a will to hauling us ashore. The beach shelved slowly into the water, so that we scraped on the pebbles some way out. There was overmuch shrapnel for happiness, and though we had passed thewarmest zone, it looked yet more restful across the beach. “That’s as far as she’ll come!” someone on the rope was calling out. “Lower the front board! The beach is hard enough: you must run the guns from where you are!”
Our fellows were already at the chains holding up the front of the barge, and now the board went down with a splash, and the gunners fell to rolling out the first gun. I jumped on to the side of the barge, and worked forward as fast as I might. The colonel and adjutant were scrambling ashore, and in the crowd there was a good chance of losing them. The sergeant-major stood in the water ordering the handling of the gun; and just then the gun ran into the water and into the sergeant-major too. Down he went on his back, and I thought that was the end of him. But there was no time for looking, the colonel had vanished into the crowd. Through the water I went, splashed on to the beach, and chased him over the shifting shingle. Not far off I caught him, talking to Colonel Irons, who was already on the scene. He was frowning and answering in an impatient way. I held him in the tail of my eye, and looked round. I was jumpy, for the beach was quite without cover; and who knew when a shell would burst at the proper angle and come tearing over in our direction?
Men moved about me with haste and purpose; and the loudest noise was the buzzing of the wireless plant, which spelt its messages at racing speed, nor stopped a moment.
Then my eye fell on the first dead man. Helay on his back where the waves moved up and down across the sand, so that part of him was soaking wet and part quite dry. His fingers were stiff and spread out, and his flesh was a dirty patchy colour, and his mouth smiled a vacant smile. Yet doubtless somewhere at home a wife or mother prayed for his safekeeping. “So be it,” said I, “so be it,” and I looked another way.
There seemed no special regiments down here: men of all corps moved about, and officers were as frequent as privates. Nobody shot at anything, none flourished swords, there was not an enemy to be discovered. The place was more like the general room of a large bank or public office, where everyone is going somewhere, and nobody goes anywhere.
Already the army had left enduring marks. Two newly shovelled roads started off into the interior; a giant stack of provisions was growing a few yards from the waterline, and barges dumped quantities of small-arms ammunition on the sand. On the side of the hills many a man dug at his first funk-hole.
The anchorage was not a whit less busy than the beach. Infantry reinforcements came in steadily, ammunition barges and provision boats approached or lay at anchor close in shore. Pinnaces and rowing boats dodged round and round one another. I had forgotten to tell of something else—about a Red Cross flag, opening and closing in the busy breezes, lay many a line of stretchers with their mangled loads; and, whilethe orderlies were yet busy at the bandages, fresh cases arrived.
The talk of Irons and the colonel came quite suddenly to an end, and Jackson turned round and strode over in my direction. I could see he was annoyed. He made me no sign, but went past me towards our barge, and very soon we had run into the adjutant waiting there. “The guns must go back!” the colonel began abruptly, and that was about all I heard; but he and Yards talked on for half a minute or more maybe, he vigorous and impatient, like a man much put out, and Yards quiet as always, lifting his eyebrows and pursing his mouth now and again. Later on I was told we were then retreating fast, and Birdwood believed the position must be given up at night. This may be the truth or not: there were many liars on that beach. Presently Yards went off to the barge. “You may stay, Lake,” the colonel said, and with that he started over the pebbles in the direction we had first taken.
In certain places there were quite as many sailors as soldiers, for the navy was in charge of the landing. These sailors were in khaki dress; and, although maybe they were a scratch lot, they knew their work well.
Beside a stock of ammunition were two little midshipmen or naval cadets, two bantam cocks, guarding it, no doubt. They were no age at all, so that they must have been at trouble to get there, but either was protected by a weighty revolver at belt. This way and that way theybobbed like sparrows on a twig, and every time a shell clapped overhead they eyed each other and giggled and dived for shelter. And next instant out they bobbed again. They were jolly little fellows. One day, if nothing happens, they shall tell mighty stories to a beaming family while filling up on plum cake.
Round about here wandered an elderly admiral in blue coat and white trousers. He was a tough customer, a sort of “one of the bulldog breed.” He seemed able to abuse everybody, soldiers besides sailors. There was ever a heartier pull on a rope when his eye went searching that way.
I lacked time to notice much, for what with the crowd, the shingly beach, and my weight of equipment, I was hard put to it to keep the colonel in sight. He went over the beach in long strides, as if out of temper with the whole affair.
We came to a place where a deep ravine ran into the hills. In winter the bottom of the ravine was probably a watercourse, but spring found it quite dry. The banks, densely covered with scrub, were steep and came close together, especially as one progressed, so that there was shelter from the shrapnel here. The headquarters of several units had found this out and taken refuge.
We went along the gully, which kept a straight course and mounted all the way. We went by several natural dug-outs all occupied, and presently came on Divisional Artillery. All the fellows were there, crowding as close to the right bank as possible. Constantly the shrapnel clapped overour heads and swept into the bushes near by; but we were fairly secure, especially when sitting down. I don’t know where the shells came from, but they were able to find the way.
Divisional Artillery had reserved two funk-holes, one just above the other. In a wet season the mountain torrent surged round here. The funk-holes had been improved with digging, and the officers had the top one, and we men the other. A colonel and adjutant of the Indian mountain batteries also shared the place. In a few moments my colonel left and went back to the beach; but he told me to stay where I was. The afternoon was getting on, and it had come over cloudy, and a drizzle of rain set in. The place at once turned very melancholy. The officers put on their coats and talked among themselves in a cheerless way, and one went to sleep. The fellows by me were no better off. They had come over in the morning and were full of rumours, but had no sure news to give. We had captured countless guns, we had driven the Turks across the Peninsula, the affair seemed about over. But one thing was certain—that all day endless wounded had arrived from the firing line.
I unrolled my coat and put it on. The drizzle continued, but came to nothing more, though shadows of late afternoon presently wandered along. The leaves grew heavy with moisture and started to drip on to the ground, and the dusty watercourse looked like turning to a treacherous camping-ground. For safety’s sake we sat close against the bank, and the drip of the leaveshad a tricky way of creeping under the collar of a coat.
We huddled together and spoke little, and I wished well the colonel would return and take me after him again. Then the drizzle cleared up, and the sun came out in a watery fashion, and we had a tea or supper of the little biscuits given as rations. Three days’ provisions hung about me, but warning had been given they might be forced to last five, and I was chary of dipping deeply into the bag. Someone offered me the bottom of a can of tea, and I washed the crumbs away with it.
The guns at sea had shut their mouths; but there was an endless bubbling noise all about us, and not very far off either. It was the roll of musketry. The enemy never tired of shelling the beach, and time after time shells came tearing over our way. They would have found it difficult to touch us where we were. It was rifle bullets that kept us against the wall.
It was said the place was peopled with snipers, which was possible enough, for the close, crooked bushes might have concealed a battalion of them. One could find comfort knowing they were little better off than we, for if they were hid, also they could not see to shoot. Yet to look over this ocean of bushes with its lurking army left a sense of uneasiness.
The Indian colonel sat down on a rock, and a native orderly took off his boots, and gently and at much length massaged his feet. He appeared to have had a hard day of it, and his face wasyellow and seamed, while he sipped a pot of tea. And then our colonel turned up and drank himself, and fell to talking earnestly with Irons. I tried to read their faces, but ended up as wise as I began.
“Lake,” the colonel called out, and I went over gladly enough. The adjutant was getting ready to go away, and I was signed briefly to follow him. We picked our road down the watercourse and, wherever it widened at all or a bit of extra shelter was offered by the banks, we came on groups of officers and men, and were forced to step with care. In one or two cases a slender meal progressed; but more often two or three men pored over a map, or talked in low tones, or sat back in a gloomy contemplation. We were not long gaining the open beach. After his fashion Yards had said not a word; but he paused just here and looked about him for a few moments, and next we turned to the left hand, hanging as near to the base of the hills as we could.
The sun was setting, and streams of angry yellow light filled the western part of the sky. It was day still, in fact hardly twilight; but very soon evening would be come. The battleships had given up the bombardment; but nowhere else was there sign of night or sleep. Countless craft were yet busy at sea, over which came forward an evening haze. And the beach was full of men.
We were on solid ground, as the pebbles scarcely reached to here: we passed our original landing-place, and went on until another ravine in the hills opened before us. Where now we stoodthe sappers had driven the beginnings of a road, and farther on they cut steps up another steep pinch. It happened the enemy shrapnel was coming over very briskly, but all of it burst rather higher up. We stood a little while as we had done at the last gully mouth. Yards looked up and down the hill as if comparing it with directions given him, and then we went up this gully and very soon were ascending a sharp rise. At the summit, which was no great distance, we went round a bit of a shoulder on the hill, and all at once were right on top of an A Battery gun in action. So a gun was ashore after all! We bent down—all cover was behind us—and went across to the gun in lively fashion, and sat down a little to one side of it. There was no cover for anybody, and the shrapnel arrived so fast and so near that I found myself pretty jumpy again, to speak the truth. Yet it would have needed a handsome cheque to buy my seat. We were in a sort of cup between two small hills, and Heaven knows what was our target! I sat while they fired the last four shells, which were put in in a lively manner. The climax of the sunset had arrived, all one portion of the sky was angry yellow and red, and the remainder full of sullen moving clouds, which made the evening cheerless and unwanted. Day had not gone yet; there remained enough light to see some distance with ease, so that one could pick out the faces of the gunners and mark all they did.
Either we had made ourselves unpopular and the enemy searched for us, or else the spot wasnaturally unhealthy, for the Turkish shrapnel came tearing over this way in the most unpleasant manner, and often three or four puffs of smoke sailed over us at one moment. The shells burst a trifle to our right against the fiery sunset; but those moments were none too certain. Major Felix stood by the trail in the easiest manner, altering the corrector, and then, as fast as I have told it, the last shot was fired, the men left off their work, and the major turned round. Almost at once the enemy ceased fire, and the sunset was left to fade and the darkness to come on undisturbed by us.
The major came over, and Yards got up. I heard a little of what was said, and gathered we had engaged an enemy gun, and Felix believed he had silenced it. They stayed talking for a little time. I forgot them in the business of watching the sky and the sea and the land dissolve into shadows, and hearkening to the fierce roll of musketry, now very near at hand. Then Yards came over my way and said something in passing in a low tone, and I rose and followed him down towards the beach.
It was quite dark in the first gully when we got back. The sky had clouded right over again so that very few stars showed, and the drizzle of rain had recommenced in drifts which passed and came. Our camp was cramped and rough and damp; but there was no doubt it was the safest spot anywhere about. The adjutant went on to the higher place, and sat down with the officers. Several men were turning in for the night, thatis, lying down as they were with boots off, on a bed of a blanket and an overcoat. This left us more pressed for room than ever, as nobody was willing to leave the immediate shelter of the bank. Coming last, I had last place, which seemed nowhere at all in a first look round in the dark. But later I found a space a yard or two lower down the watercourse. It was a stony bed and rather exposed; but I picked out the worst stones and rolled as close under the bank as possible. They were shelling us again, but at uncertain intervals, and not much of their energy was directed this way. But the shells which came over here burst with a blinding red flash, as in a picture from a story book.
In spite of the musketry roll and shell fire, the night managed to retain something of solitude and stillness. I took my boots off, made the regulation bed of a blanket and overcoat, and huddled myself up in it. The night was not cold, and we were well screened from wind; but the depressing drizzle managed to find a way everywhere. On occasion a patch of stars stared down from overhead, but hid themselves very quickly, and I found myself looking for their coming and going in a dazed sort of way. I had done no heavy work, but I was glad enough to be lying down. I was sleepy in no time. Rifle bullets struck into the bank frequently, though none of them very low; but the bushes moved at intervals, whether from the wind or from gathering raindrops I do not know; but often I could have vowed to moving bodies there—be it sniper or imagination,it made one wake up and listen. Truly I have slept in more secure bedrooms than that one.
The weather was clearing somewhat, the stars stayed out longer, and larger patches of sky uncovered. Those were the last things I remembered.
That first night on land was a restless night and a never-ending one, though everybody was up by the first streak of dawn. I woke and slept, woke up and slept. Twice the rain pattered in my face, forcing me to cover my head, then the men guarding a pool of water somewhere at hand relieved guard, and trod on me in the process. The colonel went away once, giving me his glasses and map case and other things to look after. Yet again I was wakened by two fellows close beside me. I came out of a doze, and heard them speaking in mysterious tones.
“There’s a bloke moving in the bushes. I heard him sure. Is anybody round the other side?”
“I don’t think so.”
“It may be a sniper.” The other fellow grunted. “We had better make certain.” The other fellow grunted again. Something more was said, and one got up, went a little way into the bushes and poked about a bit with stick or bayonet, I could not see which. The search was without result, and he came back and lay down, and the conversationwent on a while in whispers. I was dozing again when a couple of bullets plumped into the bank three or four foot overhead, and tiny showers of dirt trickled down. That woke me up with a vengeance. The night was much clearer, but damp and forbidding; and my circulation played tricks, for I seemed more exposed than I had believed. I moved my head about to find where to go, and in the end dragged everything a few yards lower down, where I was alone and could be closer in to our right bank. I felt more secure; but I was wide awake, and stayed so a long while. I doubt not all were glad when dawn arrived.
I got up feeling like a cat rubbed the wrong way. My clothes had not been off. Yet there was no wash nearer than the sea. In the manner of last night we had breakfast of biscuits and bully beef, sent down with a mouthful of water, and afterwards I sat huddled and yawning, picking my teeth with a twig from the nearest bush. It was pretty cold just then, and I wished the colonel would make a start on his travels. He was not long about it. Breakfast over and the world properly alight, we set off, turning as usual for the beach.
The beach was like yesterday, as crowded and as busy. There was more ammunition about, and a higher stack of provisions. Our battleships were moving, for action later on it might be, and Turkish shrapnel came over in merry morning bursts. We spent much time on the beach, and the sun rose high up at last. We went this wayand that way and every way, tramping over the shingle and threading through the crowds. The colonel was full of business. He met endless officers, talked plans with some, and gave a how-de-do to others just ashore. Also there were long intervals of waiting, when one might look round and find out what was happening.
The morning was bright with sunshine, the air a trifle sharp. Over all the ocean mounted thin smoke lines from the battleships and transports. High up into the sky they went, for there was no wind to speak of. Between those waiting giants and the shore hurried the thousand small craft which already I have told you of. It was like grown-ups and children on an autumn morning, the elders rheumy and contained, the youngsters racing in good spirit.
Wandering thus, we came on a party of sailors leaning back on a rope lashed to a barge, I think. The group was large, and a warrant officer with a gold band on his sleeve took charge. The men were elderly or over youthful, naval reservists and recruits, said I, and I saw such pimply, ill-bred faces as London breeds. The warrant officer was short and vast of girth, and a khaki solar hat covered a face seamed and fiery from tropic suns and strong spirits. I thought of a barrel on legs. I warrant his wife made small demur when he packed up for the wars. He marched solemnly up and down the line of men, eyeing this one and that one, and giving short, sharp commands. The front men splashed in the water, and the tail of the line trailed across the beach; and allthe while the shrapnel came over in a dirty fashion, clawing at the water sometimes, and sometimes spurting on to the pebbles. I could not help measuring the distance to the friendly cliffs; but ill it became one to consider retreat, and I swelled my chest and looked as though I liked it.
Now the men on the rope pulled away, some with an even pull and some in a heartless, jerky fashion, for their minds were on the shells hurling over. There were those who dropped down nearly to the ground, and grinned in sheepish and unhappy manner. The warrant officer trod heavily up and down as cool as you like, and I wondered how soon he would say something—something to the point, I mean. All suddenly sounded a rush and a bang right over our heads, and that poor line of cockneys crouched this way and that, and a fellow dropped the rope and ran away under the cliff. The warrant officer turned round—revolved is the word, for round objects revolve—and he did not wave his arms or do any other thing, lest he should burst perhaps; but he roared out—and I liked his voice less than the shrapnel—“Come out of that, you skulker! If you be killed, you be killed!” Feebly the man came back, and the rope straightened again, and the barge came ashore.
“My salute, sir. In all humility Gunner Lake offers his salute.”
Finally the colonel’s business on the beach ended, and he went the way I had gone overnight.The sappers had driven the road out of sight, and farther on the stairway over the hill was completed. We followed up the ravine, until I made sure we were about to look for the A Battery gun; but we moved somewhat to the right hand and gained the crest that way. I say “gained the crest,” but we stopped just short of the top, for on the farther side went forward with utmost spirit a dainty little battle. Had all been quiet one would have looked and beheld only the wilderness, for the guns were hidden in odd clumps of scrub, and of infantry there was no sign. Later I found a few of them in a trench behind the guns and quite close to us. I wondered then what they did there.
Now the sun had climbed up into the sky, a jolly warming sun who searched alike open and thicket with his glances. To be sure, he drew away to him the fresh morning scents; but he left all the scrubland silvery and quivering, and threw a glad haze over the open country. Hills and valleys were about us, and next a broad plain, and beyond that the great breast of Achi-Baba. Hills and valleys were before us, and the flat sea behind.
We stayed but a few instants just here ere a bullet skimmed by and set us thinking of healthier places. It happened that on the right of this crest was a scooped-out spot, not exactly a trench, probably some old Turkish observing station. The colonel saw there what he wanted, and we went for it at the double, jumped down into it and dropped on our knees. It had a depth ofthree or four foot, and we could stay fairly protected and look over the top and scan the whole countryside. The morning was wonderfully pretty—the place was ablaze with sunlights, browns and smoky blues. When one found the guns and gunners, which was only possible of those near by, their dress harmonised so exactly that they did not offend. And the roar of battle was less hideous here. The musketry rolled from all around, and the hissing bursts of machine guns were born and died. There was the plucky “bang-bang” of a mountain battery, and the heavier voice of our own gun, which opened its mouth ever and anon. But there was nothing of that bellow of the ponderous guns at sea.
I was on my knees with only my head above the parapet, and not an inch more of that than need be. The firing came from all over the place, so much so that one was put to it to tell which was from us and which from the enemy. Thus an extra inch was of account.
Briskly as went forward the battle, it must wait my attention while I roamed a farmer’s eye across the landscape. All was so charming and so full of contrast. We—the colonel and I—were perched in a land of heights and depths, which in happier days may have grazed lean flocks of sheep and goats. Over in the distance there was a wide flat country of vines and cropland, even now filling with the harvest. Humble homes were hid there, with anxious wife or aged mother as guardian. For the lords had gone forth, changing the sickle for the musket.
Somewhere in that flat country the enemy lay, though I never picked them up, as I was without glasses. I found our men slowly, and in every case suddenly. They were beneath us, and rather to the left hand. A mountain gun and our own A Battery gun were close—quite close, a matter of yards. Yet one must look keenly to see the brown puggareed men at their posts, and our own green-uniformed gunners beyond. It was their movements and the flashes which made this possible.
I have said there was an old trench behind the guns, filled with a number of our infantry. It had little depth, and from up here one might look right in. The fellows crouched or sat, rifle in hand, helping nothing towards the business. I could not understand it.
Now a track ran round the shoulder of our hill, joining the beach with a broad valley thrusting into the mountains. One could not follow the course of the valley far, as hills interrupted; but I had the belief that at its head lay the trenches our infantry held. The track I speak of curved in front of the guns, and was exposed all the way to such attentions as the enemy liked to give. Yet continually passengers passed up and down. All manner of men went, and all paces they went at. There were curious, lonely infantrymen, who came out of the valley and disappeared towards the beach. There were those who passed at a walk, and those who went by at a halting run, dodging before the guns and losing themselves in no time. Several lines of stretcher cases arrivedat slower pace, or a single stretcher advanced down the road, or even a walking wounded man appeared, leaning on the shoulder of a friend. Not one who went that way but was dusty, parched, and tired. And some men would return towards the valley—stretcher-bearers in general case. Some ran over the open as fast as weariness allowed, but others plodded forward worn past anxiety.
But of all who came and went, I remembered best two men approaching with utmost slowness from the valley. They were a chaplain and a wounded man whom he supported. I watched them all the way, for they came so slowly and with such small concern of the hubbub round; the chaplain engrossed in his task, and the wounded man beyond all caring for what befell. They passed near to us, at one time below our breast-work, the chaplain talking to his friend or looking along the path towards the hospitals on the beach. I am glad to have seen those men go by.
Merrily the fight went forward. Officers came up beside us, and talked a little with the colonel and watched a little, and went away again. One who came was Major Andrews, and I heard we were landing more guns, and some of the Staff were on the way over. He spoke of meeting them and went off.
All the while the colonel said never a word to me; but he scanned the field with his glasses, and once or twice he used a telescope. Often he would look towards the beach and curse the absence of his guns.
This cup in the hills was not the only spot of battle: the enemy still remembered the beach and the sea, and many a shell went whistling past us over that way. I began to tire of the place, and would have welcomed a move; but just then I caught sight of some of our Staff climbing from the beach. They had just landed, for they were loaded with flags and field telephones, besides personal equipment. They panted from their efforts, and coming to the top of the rise nearly below us, bunched together in the open, and looked as though they knew it too. I was sending a good-day nod from my funk-hole, when the colonel brushed me on one side, and, lifting over the parapet all of his head that was wanted, called out impatiently to Mr. Gardiner in charge.
“What about the guns, Mr. Gardiner? What have you done with them?”
“They’re here, sir. We met the major!”
And then there followed explanations, and it turned out the guns were going the wrong way, and Gardiner went back in a hurry, put about for the first time.
Though things straightened finally, the morning was confused and full of running about. Afternoon was no better. Until evening I followed on the colonel’s heels; and he went this way, that way, and every way, over the shingle, and up and down the small hills which met the beach. All day the shells came from inland, tumbling about us at every angle, or tearing up the waters for a brief moment. All day the transports sent reinforcements; and new guns and barges ofammunition and provisions arrived. The hospital ships sailed away, and others steamed from the horizon. Men dug in wherever an inch of cover was. Gangs of sappers drove roads, and toiling lines of men dragged the field guns from the beach along the roads to positions on the hills. Every hour left us surer of our footing.
By night we artillery fellows—those who had got over—had made our headquarters near by the little battlefield of the morning. When the colonel and I came back, men were digging in the guns.
It was necessary to keep communication through the night with Divisional Artillery by means of lamp signals. The Staff were taking turns at this. My turn was somewhere about the middle of the night, so I dug a shallow funk-hole, and when the stars came out took off my boots and lay down. The bad weather had long cleared away, and the stars were very bright.
“So another day was ending, and again came darkness to cover up the ruin and the agony. Higher were heaped the dead, and braver were the ranks of the maimed. More men had stood their trial, had proven themselves or had been found wanting. And you, Gunner Lake, have you thanked the God of Battle that you have stayed unafraid?”