2nd September, 1915. Imbros. An ugly dream came to me last night. My tent was at Imbros right enough, and I was lying in my little camp bed, and yet I was being drowned, held violently under the Hellespont.

The grip of a hand was still on my throat; the waters were closing over my head as I broke away and found myself wide awake. I was trembling and carried back with me into the realms of consciousness an idea that some uncanny visitor had entered my tent. Already the vision was fading. I could visualize the form of the presence, but the face remained hidden in shadow. Never had I suffered from so fearful a dream. For hours afterwards I was haunted by the thought that the Dardanelles were fatal; that something sinister was a-foot; that we, all of us, were pre-doomed.

Dreams go by contraries. Strange that so black a night should be followed by a noon so brilliant—so brilliant beyond compare.

K. cables the French are going to send three or four Divisions to work with us along the Asiatic mainland. From bankrupt to millionaire in 24 hours. The enormous spin of fortune's wheel makes me giddy!

These French Divisions will be real Divisions: must be; they have no others.

O, Hallelujah!

"The sending of a force of three or four Divisions to operate on the Asiatic mainland, independent as regards command, but in close relation with the British forces on the Peninsula, is being considered by the French Government. They will require an exclusively French military base at Mitylene, and us to help with transport and fleet.

"So far I have not discussed any details with the French, and have simply told them we shall be delighted to have the help, which would be given by such an expedition, towards the solution of the Dardanelles problem.

"Presumably they would require their two divisions now at Cape Helles. What forces would you require to relieve them? I have asked Sir John French if the XXVIIth and XXVIIIth Divisions could be spared for this purpose.

"Wire me any points that you think I had better settle with the French authorities."

Deo volente we are saved; Constantinople is doomed. How clearly stand forth the mosques and minarets of the Golden Horn.

Mr. Murdoch, an Australian journalist, paid me a visit to thank me for having stretched a point in his favour by letting him see the Peninsula. Seemed a sensible man.

Glyn and Holdich dined: both clever fellows in different ways. Dawnay and Glyn after dinner left for England. Dawnay goes to explain matters first hand to K. Next to my going home myself, or to K. himself coming out here, this is the best I can do. Dawnay is one of the soundest young officers we have, but he is run down physically (like most of us) and jaded. He should benefit by the trip and so should the rumour-mongers at home.

3rd September, 1915. Imbros. Two cables: one to say that the news about the French Divisions must be kept dark; the other, in reply to a question by me, refusing to let me consult de Robeck on the matter. So Braithwaite and I had to make out our cable expressing our delight and thankfulness, and advising how the troops might best be used entirely on our own.

The cable took some doing but got it off my chest by mid-day and then sailed with Ellison, Braithwaite and Val by the Arno to Suvla. We landed this time on Lala Baba instead of at our usual Ghazi Baba. Every five minutes the Turks plumped one six-incher on to the beach. But nobody now seems to mind. A lot of Generals present; Byng, Mahon, Marshall, Maude and Peyton. Mahon took me up to the top of Lala Baba and showed me the disposition of his division. He kindly asked us all to tea at his Headquarters but as someone added that Ashmead-Bartlett was going to take a cinema photo of the scene I thought I would not be thus immortalized. The Scottish Horse were bivouacking on the beach; they have just landed but already they have lost a member or two of their Mess from shell fire. No wonder they looked a little bewildered, but soon they will shake down. When we got back to the Arno we found she had been hit by shrapnel, but no damage.

Things at Suvla are pulling together. No one gave me more confidence than Maude. His mind travels beyond the needs of the moment. He is firmly convinced that no very out-of-the-way effort by the Allies is needed to score a big point in the War Game and that our hold-up here is not a reality but only a hold-up or petrefaction of the brains of the French and of our Dardanelles Committee. I longed to tell him he was doing them both, especially the French, an injustice, and that four splendid divisions were as good as on their way, but I had to content myself with saying to him and to all the Generals that I was overjoyed at a piece of news received yesterday.

4th September, 1915. Imbros. Life would be as ditchwater were it not stirred to its depths by K.'s secret cable. Sailed over with Freddie at 11.30 to "K" Beach and inspected the 88th Brigade. Had given orders to the Arno to stand by and to take me over to Anzac in the afternoon, but the weather was so bad that I could not get off to her in the motor boat.

At 7.15 p.m. the V.A. sent his picket boat for me and Freddie and I went on board the Triad. At 10 p.m. she started for Mudros.

5th September, 1915. H.M.S. "Triad." Mudros. Anchored at Mudros at 6 a.m. Breakfast over, was met by Altham, Colonel McMunn and Captain Stephens who took me ashore. There I met Lindley, now commanding the troops on the island; also General Legge (commanding the 2nd Australian Division); Lord Dudley and Colonel Forster. Lindley seems pleased at having been given this command; says he feels like a man out hunting who has a bad fall but alights on his feet, and Altham tells me he is doing the work very well. Dudley, too, seemed full of business and contented with his lot.

The moment I got through the reception stunt I set myself to work like a nigger at the Red Cross stunt:—that's how people talk now-a-days. Saw the 15th Stationary Hospital; the 110th Indian Field Ambulance; "C" Section of No. 24 British Indian Hospital; ate a hearty lunch; inspected 1st Australian Stationary Hospital. Walking round a Hospital and seeing whether things are clean and bright is a treat but trying to cheer people up and give a fillip to all good works—that implies an expenditure of something vital and leaves a man, after a few hours, feeling the worse for wear.

By 4.45 the day's task was well over so refreshed myself by some right soldier business reviewing the 4th Gurkhas under Major Tillard—a superb battalion—1,000 strong!!! Had forgotten what a full battalion looks like. At 5.45 wound up by inspecting a huge Convalescent Depot under Colonel Forde and got back to the Triad just in time for dinner. Wemyss dined also.

6th September, 1915. H.M.S. "Triad." Mudros. After breakfast sailed over to Mudros West; Lindley met me, also a host of doctors. Walked to No. 3 Australian Hospital with an old acquaintance whose Italian name slips my memory at the moment; then to No. 2 Australian Stationary Hospital; then to Convalescent Depot of Lowland Division. At 12.30 ran down to my launch and was swiftly conveyed to lunch on board the Europa with Admiral Wemyss. Such a lunch as a lost voyager may dream of in the desert. Like roses blooming in a snowdrift, so puffs and pies and kickshaws of all rarest sorts appeared upon a dazzling white tablecloth, and then—disappeared. We too had to disappear and sail back to Mudros West again. Horses were waiting and I rode to No. 18 Stationary Hospital and made a thorough overhaul of it from end to end; then tea with the Officers of No. 1. In No. 3 Australian General were eighty nurses; in No. 3 Canadian Stationary seven nurses; in No. 1 Canadian Stationary twenty-four nurses. Since Lady Brassey descended in some miraculous manner upon Imbros, they were the first white women I had seen for six months. Their pretty faces were a refreshing sight: a capable crowd too: all these Hospitals were in good order, but the sick and wounded in charge of the girls looked the happiest—and no wonder. The Canadian Medicos are fresh from France and discoursed about moral. Never a day passed, so they said, in France, but some patient would, with tears in his eyes, entreat to be sent home. Here at Mudros there had never been one single instance. The patients, if they said anything at all, have showed impatience to get back to their comrades in the fighting line. We discussed this mystery at tea and no one could make head or tail of it. In France the men got a change; are pulled out of the trenches; can go to cafes; meet young ladies; get drinks and generally have a good time. On the Peninsula they are never safe for one moment (whether they are supposed to be resting or are in the firing line) from having their heads knocked off by a shell.

Returned to the Triad in time for dinner.

Admiral vexed as his motor boat has gone ashore. Bowlby is with it trying to get it off.

The French Admiral commanding the Mediterranean Fleet has just sailed in.

7th September, 1915. Imbros. At 9.30 left the Triad to call on Admiral de la Perriera on board the Gaulois. Thence to H.M.S. Racoon (Lieutenant-Commander Hardy) and started back for Imbros, where we arrived in time for tea.

8th September, 1915. Imbros. Trying to clear a table blocked with papers as a result of my two days' trip. Have written to K. as the Mail bag goes to-morrow. Have told him I have had a nice letter from Mahon, thanking me for allowing him to rejoin his Division and saying he hopes he may stay with them till the end. Have given him all my Mudros news and have sent him a memo. submitted to me by Birdwood showing how much of the sickness on the Peninsula seems due to the War Office having hung up my first request for a Field Force Canteen.

Here is one of the enclosures to Birdwood's memo.:—

"N. Z. and A. Division.

I desire to draw attention to the remarkable drop in the sick evacuations from this Brigade as shown by the following figures:—

I am convinced that this amelioration, and the observable improvement in the condition of the men are largely to be attributed to the distribution, on August 30 and 31 of Canteen Stores, providing a welcome change of dietary.

I strongly recommend that every effort be made to maintain such Canteen supplies.

(Sd.), Monash."

9th September, 1915. Imbros. At 9.30 Admiral de la Perriera returned my call. At 11.50 Braithwaite, Freddy and I went aboard the Gaulois.

A five course lunch and I had to make a speech in French.

When I got back I found that General Marshall, commanding the 53rd Division, had come over from Suvla to stay with me. Lancelot Lowther dined; he told us all the important things he was doing.

10th September, 1915. Imbros. Lancelot Lowther left with the Mails at 7 a.m., glad, I suspect, to shake from his feet the sand of these barbaric Headquarters.

Not easy to get Marshall to loosen his tongue about the battle of the 21st, and he would not, or could not, add much to my knowledge. The strength of Marshall depends not on what he seems but upon what his officers and men know. He has got his chance amidst the realities of war. In peace, except by a miracle, he would never have risen above the command of a Battalion. The main reason I cannot draw him about the battle of the 21st is, beyond doubt, that he does not want to throw blame on others.

Marshall is a matter-of-fact, unemotional sort of chap, yet he told the sad tale of young O'Sullivan's death in a way which touched our hearts. O'Sullivan was no novice where V.C.s were the stake and the forfeit sudden death.

11th September, 1915. Imbros. Ran across in the motor boat to see the 86th Brigade under Brigadier-General Percival. Went, man by man, down the lines of the four battalions—no very long walk either! These were the Royal Fusiliers (Major Guyon), Dublin Fusiliers (Colonel O'Dowda), Munster Fusiliers (Major Geddes), Lancashire Fusiliers (Major Pearson).

Shade of Napoleon—say, which would you rather not have, a skeleton Brigade or a Brigade of skeletons? This famous 86th Brigade is a combination. Were I a fat man I could not bear it, but I am as unsubstantial as they themselves. A life insurance office wouldn't touch us; and yet—they kept on smiling!

12th September, 1915. Imbros. The C.O.'s, Geddes, Pearson, Guyon and O'Dowda, lunched: an ideal lot; young, ardent, on the spot. Marshall left by the Suvla trawler. Windy day, but calmer in the evening and at night rained a little.

13th September, 1915. Imbros. Crossed again with Freddie Maitland and inspected the 87th Field Ambulance (Highland Territorials from Aberdeen) under Colonel Fraser. Became so interested the dinner hour was forgotten—a bad mark for a General. Much pleased with the whole show: up to date, and complete in all respects. Got back lateish. Altham dined. Sat up at business till midnight.

Dictated a long letter to Callwell, Director of Military Operations at the War Office, on the suicidal behaviour of the Military Censor. In South Africa, my Chief of the Staff's latchkey let many a clandestine tit-bit slip through to keep interest alive in England. K. regularly, when the mails came back to roost, went for me, but the messages had got home and done their duty as good little tit-bits should. The B.P. cannot work up the full steam of their war energy when the furnaces of their enthusiasms are systematically damped down; shut off from any breath from outside. Your sealed pattern censor sees nothing beyond the mischief that may happen if the enemy gets to know too much about us; he does not see that this danger is negligible when compared with the keenness or dullness of the nation.

General Headquarters,
Medtn. Expeditionary Force,
13th September, 1915.

"Dear Callwell,

"I am about to commit an atrocity by writing to an overworked man on a subject which may seem to him of secondary importance. Still, to the soldiers out here, the said subject means encouragement or discouragement coming to them through the medium of their home letters,—so vital a factor in victory or failure that the thought emboldens me to proceed.

"Our misfire of last month came within only a fine hair's breadth of the grand coup and caused us proportionately bitter disappointment at the moment. Yet, looking back over the whole affair in a more calm and philosophical spirit, any General, I think, would now be bound to admit that in some respects at least fortune had not been too unkind.

"The Australians and New Zealanders have been extricated from what by all the laws and traditions of war, was, in theory, an untenable position; their borders have been enlarged; the heights they hold have become more elevated and commanding; they have been entirely released from shelling on the one flank and, on the other, the shelling has dwindled away to next door to nothing. North of them again we have captured a more or less practicable winter harbour, and have extended our grip on the coastline. From the extreme South point of Anzacs to their extreme North was formerly 2¾ miles. From the extreme South point of Anzacs to our extreme North point (along which there is inter-communication) is now 13 miles. Thus we force the enemy to maintain a much larger number of troops on the Peninsula (where he is already slowly bleeding to death under the stress of his supply and transport difficulties) or else dangerously to weaken parts of his line.

"As to the fighting by which this has been accomplished, there is nothing from beginning to end that any army need be ashamed of. Every word I sent home in my Proemial cables might have been published without raising a blush to the cheek of the most ardent Imperialist. In saying this I do not, of course, assume that raw troops could tackle a totally strange and uncomfortable proposition with the swift directness and savvy of veterans. The feat performed by the Australians and New Zealanders was of the class of the storming of the heights of Abraham, only it was infinitely, infinitely more difficult in every respect.

"On the other side, still assuming the philosophical mantle, consider what might have happened. Had the Australians and New Zealanders been average troops, they would perhaps have burst through the first series of wire entanglements and trenches, but they would not have stormed the second, still less the third, fourth, fifth or sixth lines. Again, had the Turks got the smallest inkling of our intention, the landing at Suvla Bay would have failed altogether, and the New Armies would have been virtually smashed to pieces without being able to show any quid pro quo.

"We soldiers out here have then it seems to me, much for which to thank God on our bended knees. That, at least, is my personal attitude.

"How is it then that our letters from home are filled with lamentations and that, having just gained a proportionately very large accretion of territory, we see headlines in the papers such as 'The Gallipoli standstill,' whereas it does not seem to occur to anyone to speak about 'The French standstill'?

"Well, I will tell you. The system upon which the Press Bureau approaches the eagerly attentive ear of the British Public is the reason.

"Why I begged the War Office to change the method by which I sent copies of my Proemial cables to Maxwell was that I found he (animated, of course, by the best intentions) was improving the successes and minimising the failures. The finishing touch was given when, one day, he inserted the phrase 'The enemy is demoralized and has to submit by day and by night to our taking his trenches.' Obviously, even the most stupid fellaheen after reading such a sentence must, in the course of time, begin to ask himself how, if trenches are being easily taken by day and by night, we still remain on the wrong side of Achi Baba!

"Turning now to the Press Bureau and our landing, there was nothing in that landing, as I have just said, which need have caused sorrow to a soul in the British Isles excepting, of course, the deplorable heavy casualties which are inseparable now from making any attack. But, on the 23rd of August a correspondent cables to an American paper a sensational story of a decisive victory, which the Press Bureau must have known to be a tissue of lies. Had the lies taken the shape of disasters to the British there would not, from the point of view of us soldiers, have been the smallest objection to publishing them. Suppose Mr. X, for instance, had said that the landing did not succeed, and had been driven off with immense slaughter? Apart from the fact that such a cable would have made many poor women in England unhappy for a few hours, the fabrication would have done us positive good: when the truth was known the relief would have been enormous, we would have gained handsome recognition of what had actually been done, and German inspired lies would have been discounted in future.

"But there is no moral in the world that can stand against a carefully engineered disappointment. When you know perfectly well that the spirits of the people are bound to be dashed down to the depths within a few days, it is unsound statesmanship surely so to engineer the Press that you raise those selfsame spirits sky high in the meantime. To climb up and up is a funny way to prepare for a fall! If you know that your balloon must burst in five minutes you use that time in letting out gas, not in throwing away ballast. If you want to spoil a man's legacy of £500 tell him the previous evening he has been left £50,000!

"As I began by saying, do please forgive me, my dear Callwell, for taking up your most precious time. But you are more in touch with this particular business than anyone else at the War Office and, from your large mindedness, I feel sure you will be able to spare me some sympathy, and perhaps even get some recognition for the general principle I herewith put forward:—

"(1). Do not too curiously censor false alarmist reports put about by the enemy. Let the papers publish them with a query and then smash them as soon as this can be done with positive certainty.

"(2). Mercilessly censor any report which you think is, even in the smallest degree, overstating your own case.

"The system needs courage but, with the British Public, it would pay!

"Yours sincerely,
(Sd.), "Ian Hamilton."

As suspense had, by now, become unbearable, cabled home asking S. of S. to "let me know, as soon as you can safely do so," when the new divisions may be expected. I tell him I have "informal" news from the French but dare not take action on that.

14th September, 1915. Imbros. Mails in with Ward as King's Messenger. Captain Vitali (Italian liaison officer) and Captain Williams dined. Vitali is worried about his status. He was told in the first instance he was to be liaison officer between General Cadorna and myself. On this understanding we agreed to his coming to our Headquarters. Once he was here the Italian Government (not Cadorna he is careful to explain) said he must be permanently attached to us. Vitali feels himself in a false position as he thinks that,—had we known, we might not have let him come. Personally, I am quite glad to have him; but we did not have much talk as, immediately after dinner, Braithwaite brought me the decipher of Lord K.'s answer to my reminder to him. This has greatly saddened me and takes up the whole of my thoughts.

"(No. 7843, cipher). From Earl Kitchener to General Sir Ian Hamilton. Reference your No. M.F. 630. I have just returned from France where I went to settle up the questions asked in that telegram which were in a very indefinite state owing apparently to a decision having been arrived at by the French Government without reference to their military advisers. The outcome of my meeting with Millerand, Joffre and Sarrail was that the French force of four Divisions proposed to be sent to the Dardanelles cannot leave until the result of the approaching offensive in France is determined. If it be as successful as hoped for your position in the Dardanelles would naturally be affected favourably. It is hoped that the issue will be clear in the first few days of October, and if indecisive, that by 10th October two of our Divisions may be at Marseilles for embarkation to be followed closely by the four French Divisions. The embarkation and transport of so large a force would, it is thought, take about a month, but this has still to be worked out in detail, so that by about the middle of November would be the time when all would be ready.

"In the meantime, as transport is available, I shall continue to send you reinforcements and drafts of which you are fully informed, up to 20th instant, and on which you should alone calculate.

"Sarrail, backed by General Bailloud, is greatly in favour of the French expedition being employed independently on the Asiatic shore.

"Joffre greatly doubts the wisdom of this course, and Millerand requested me to ask you to state fully and confidentially, for his personal information, your opinion on this matter.

"Joffre's objections appear to be that a landing in Asia opens up a very wide field if the force be not immediately successful, and that in that case more troops, munitions and drafts would be eventually required than he could spare with due regard to the safety of France.

"Secondly, he is not very confident of Sarrail's leadership, particularly as the plans Sarrail has made seem to be worthless. Joffre is having careful plans worked out by his Staff for the expedition on the Asiatic shore which, he says, though unfinished, do not look promising. The same objection on his part would not, I gather, be felt if the French troops were given a definite area and objective on the Gallipoli Peninsula, where the scope of their activities, and consequently the support required from France, could be limited."

Where's the use of M. Millerand's consulting me over what lies on the far side of a dead wall? Had he asked me to show why action here should have priority over action in France, then I might have been of some use. But that is settled: the four French Divisions earmarked for the East will not now be sent until after "the results of the coming offensive in France have been determined." "If the success of this push equals expectations you will reap the benefit." If indecisive then, "by the 10th October," two British Divisions and four French Divisions will be at Marseilles ready to sail out here: "about the middle of November would be the time when everything would be ready." There are altogether too many ifs and ands and pots and pans about Millerand's question. When a man starts going West who can foretell how long it will take him to arrive at the East?

(1) If the push in the West is victorious we will score, says K. That is so. Far as the Western battlefield lies from the scene of our struggle, the report of a German defeat in France would reverberate Eastwards and would lend us a brave moral impetus. But the point I would raise is this:—did K., as representing a huge Eastern Empire, press firmly upon Millerand and Joffre the alternative,—if the push in the East is victorious the West will score?

What express strategical gain do they expect from pushing back the Germans? A blow which merely destroys a proportion of men and material without paralysing the resources of the enemy is a blow in the air. War cannot be waged by tactics alone. That is a barbaric method. To bend back the German lines in the West, or to push the first line back on to the second or third, or twentieth, has of itself but slight strategical or economic import.

Here, on the other hand, we have literally in our grasp a clear cut gift offered us by the Gods. The impossible part, the landing, is done. All that remains is so many fresh men and so many thousand shell. The result is not problematical, but mathematical. Napoleon is the only man who has waged a world war in the world as we know it to-day. Napoleon said, I think it was on the famous raft, "Who holds Constantinople is master of the world." And there it lies at the mercy of the Briton—could he only convince Joffre that the shortest cut to freeing his country from the Germans lies through the Dardanelles.

The principles which should underlie Entente strategy will be clear to military historians although obscured to-day by jealousies and amateurishness: just the usual one, two, three they are, in this order:—

(a) Hold the sea.

(b) Hold the West.

(c) Smash the Turk.

A couple of miles won by us here gives England wheat and Russia rifles; gives us the whip hand in the Balkans plus security in a couple of Continents. A couple of miles lost by us here leaves the German with a strengthened grip upon all the real world objectives for which he went to war: it leaves us with a ruined prestige in Asia. But what is all that to Joffre to whom, as a good Frenchman, the Balkans; the bracing up of the Russian Army; all the Odessa corn; Asia and Africa thrown in, do not count against one departement of la Patrie.

(2) If the push in the West is indecisive then our push is only to be postponed. Postponed! The word is like a knell. To write it gives me a feeling of sick despair. Only postponed! As well cable at once, only ruined!!

(3) But there is a third eventuality not mentioned by Lord K. How if our attack upon the main strength of the entrenched Germans is beaten off? To Joffre France comes first and the rest nowhere—every time: that is natural. But our Higher Direction are not Frenchmen—not yet! Armageddon is actually being fought here, at the Dardanelles, and the British outlook is focused on France. We are to sit here and rot away with cholera, and see the winter gales approach, until the big push has been made in the West where men can afford to wait—where they are healthy—where time is all on their side. And this push in the West is against the whole German Empire linked to all its own vast resources by a few miles of the best railways in the world. We can attack here with more men and more munitions than the enemy the very moment we care to accept the principle that, at this moment, Constantinople and the heartening up of Russia and ascendency amongst the Balkan States are not only the true positive objectives of our strategy, but are the sole strategical stunts upon the board. We can do so because of our sea power. We can borrow enough howitzers, aeroplanes, munitions and drafts from the West; apply them here and then, if necessary, return them. We are not exploiting our own special characteristics, mobility and sea power!

Easy to preach patience to a nation in agony? Yes, for the whole agony of the whole world is more important even than the agonies of France. We've got to win the war and win it quick. There's only one way to do that. The resources of the Entente are not equal to carrying on two offensives at the same moment. If our Army in the West will just sit tight awhile, we here will beat the Turks, and snip the last economic lien binding the Central Powers to the outside world.

Once more, our game is to defend in the West until the attack in the East has borne economic fruit in the shape of ships and corn: political fruit in the sentiment of the Balkans: military fruit in the fillip given to the whole force of the Entente by actual tactical contact between the British soldiers and the rank and file of the Ruskies. The collapse of the Central Powers,—eclipsed in full view of all Asia and Africa by the smoke from the funnels of the British Fleet at anchor in the Golden Horn is what we are after here. Even if French and Joffre do drive the German main hordes back to the Rhine the scope of their scoop would be far less than ours, for we by getting to Constantinople can starve those main armies stiff.

How few of our people know anything of the Russians. At least, I have been attached for eight months to the Armies which fought against them in the field; have visited Russia and Siberia and have done two peace manoeuvres as their guest. To send superior officers to Russia only produces jealousy; to send supplies only breeds dishonesty. But with 50,000 British soldiers as yeast we could leaven 5,000,000 Muscovites; we could fire their inert masses with our ardour; this is the best of all uses to which 50,000 British soldiers could at present be put.

From the early days when he told me the New Army should go to Salonika, K. had an intuition at the back of his big mind that victory would dawn in the East. But he is no longer the K. of K., the old K. of Khartoum and Pretoria. He still has his moments of God-sent intuition. First, he had absolute knowledge that the Germans would come through Belgium: I repeat this. The assumption was not uncommon perhaps, but he knew the fact! Secondly, when everyone else spoke of a six weeks' war; when every other soldier I can think of except Douglas Haig believed he'd be back before the grouse shooting was over; K. went nap on a three years' war. Pray heaven he was wrong; but, right or wrong, he has already proved himself to have been nearer the mark than anyone else. Thirdly, he had a call (by heavenly telepathy, I suppose) that his New Armies must go out to the East. There is no more question about this than there is about Belgium and the three years' duration. He has told me so; time and again.

Why then does he not act accordingly if he's in the Almighty know? Because he can't. With the one exception of the Battle of Paardeberg, he never in his palmiest days pretended to be a man of action. But now he has lost his faculty of forcing others to act. He makes a spurt but he can't stay the distance. He has met Millerand, French and Joffre in Council and allowed the searchlights of his genius to be snuffed out! That is what surprises me:—He, who once could deflect Joe Chamberlain and Milner from their orbits; who twisted stiff-necked Boers round his little finger; who bore down Asquith, Winston, Prince Louis and Beatty in Valetta Harbour—East versus West—Mediterranean versus North Sea—who, from 8 p.m. to 2 a.m., withstood, wrestled with and overthrew Haldane's arguments in favour of his taking up the succession to the Duke of Connaught, and that although he had one arm tied to his side by having taken the King's shilling. What a marvel he was and now—

Ichabod!

There is something so tragical in what home letters let us guess that the pity of it almost makes me forget our own stillborn projects.

15th September, 1915. Imbros. Altham and Major Hood left G.H.Q. for L. of C. Headquarters. Had another hour with Altham before he got aboard his destroyer. Gave an interview to Buchanan, A.M.S. After lunch, Braithwaite, Val, Wells, Deedes, Freddie and myself went off to Suvla aboard H.M.S. Scourge (Lieutenant-Commander Tupper). On landing, Braithwaite branched off to see the G.S. Byng has a keen sense of humour; is energetic and by his looks and manner attracts all ranks. No one could wish a better corps commander and I have never in all my experience known anyone take greater and more minute trouble with his field days and manoeuvres than he did in Egypt the year before the war. But his sojourn on the Western front has given him inflated standards as to the number of guns and stocks of H.E. shell which are essential to success; especially with troops who have suffered heavy losses. Perhaps he is right. This para. from a letter written to the great man to-night explains more generally what I feel:—

"Maude is burning to get on and do something and I heard him myself ask Byng when he was going to let him have a dash. As to Byng, I think myself he is not quite sure yet about the spirit of his men. I have been trying to spur him on for the last day or so, although only by very gentle hints, as I think, with a man of Byng's great reputation, one must leave him to himself for as long as possible. I daresay he may be quite right and very wise. Still, these reinforcements have brought the Suvla Bay troops up to no less than 37,000 men, and I am most anxious they should do something soon a little more rapid than sapping out slowly towards the enemy's lines—which they are doing."

After my talk with Byng, we went on to meet Fanshawe and de Lisle. Maude came along with me as far as the crestline. I asked him about his Division. He replied: "Sir Ian, may I be frank with you about the Division?" At these ominous words I shivered. They positively gave me the shivers. So I braced myself up when I answered, "But of course!" Maude then said, "If you give the order now, and will arrange for a little artillery support, my Division will storm and hold on to any thousand yards of Turkish trench you like to point out; to-morrow." I could have embraced him, but I had to go steady and explain to him that a Corps Commander must judge all his Divisions and that, taking the situation as a whole, Byng did not think it fair on the men to let them have a dart yet—not, at least, till they had more munitions at their back. Byng has had wide experiences in the West and he looks on it as trying the men unfairly to ask them to attack without a preliminary bombardment on a scale which we cannot at present afford. "Yes," said Maude, "that is all very well but after all you must remember the Turks have neither the artillery nor the munitions the Germans have at their command on the Western front."

"Well," I replied, "you put your points to Byng and you know I am a man who never yet in my life refused a good brave offer like yours." He has a great admiration for Byng and so, though sadly, he went away.

Fanshawe met me at the South end of the Division trenches, as bright and keen as a new nail. His men, too, seem full of go. Fanshawe hopes to carry the whole ridge whenever he gets the order. The 11th Division promise to be as fine a unit as any in the Army once they get their gaps filled in.

16th September, 1915. Imbros. We had quite a lively morning here. At 7.30 an enemy's biplane dropped four bombs on our Headquarters camp and got away with hardly a shot fired at it. At 7.50 an enemy's Taube came over and dropped bombs near my Signal Tent, also a little summer shower of small steel darts: five men were wounded. At 8.10 a.m. yet another enemy biplane circled round but was kept at a respectful distance by the ship's guns.

Gave an interview to Colonel Stewart, Armoured Car Squadron.

Vice-Admiral Foumet and Staff called on me in the forenoon. He replaces Admiral Nicol gone sick. Mails went out this evening. Freddie and I gave tone to our debilitated constitutions by dining with the ever hospitable V.A. on the Triad.

A cable from Dawnay saying Lord K. "would not regard unfavourably" a withdrawal from Suvla Bay.

Dawnay left under the cloud of the 21st August. He it was who rough-drafted the cable (in very much stronger terms than my final version) suggesting that we might have to draw in our horns if we were not kept up to strength. Since then our skies have cleared; the spirit of the men has risen to set fair and we have got drafts enough, not for a big push but certainly to enable us to be delighted should the Turks attempt any sort of an attack, either at Suvla or anywhere else. The Turks, in fact, are strictly on the defensive both actually and in their spirit.

17th September, 1915. Imbros. Had been going to Anzac to inspect and then to bring Birdie back to stay with me. But the weather was too bad. He got here all right as the wind is from the North and he was able to climb aboard under the lee of Nibrunesi Point. Just as well, perhaps, we did not go, for one way or another a good deal of extra work had to be got through. One thing; two cables from Maxwell to the War Office have been repeated to us here; inadvertently we think; divertingly for sure. The story is this:—

A few days ago we were offered the 51st and 53rd Sikhs who, despite their titles, are half Mahomedan. After consulting Cox, Birdie and other Indian Army Officers I cabled back saying we would gladly have them "as soon as transport can be arranged," unless French is willing to exchange them for two purely non-Mahomedan units. Here are the collateral cables from Maxwell to the War Office:—

"Both the 51st and 53rd Sikhs have already been disembarked. They had better remain off ship as long as possible, I think, since they are reported to be feverish. The troopship can wait at Port Said. The men on the canal, I should like to point out, barely get two nights in bed per week."

"I have been asked by Hamilton to send him a double Company of Patiala Sikhs to reinforce the 14th Sikhs. I can do this, and if you concur I think it is a better arrangement than to send him the 51st and 53rd Sikhs."

The Sikhs meant for Gallipoli are gone; we shall never see them more; they mount guard by night against the ghosts of the Suez Canal.

Another thing; a Correspondent writes in and tells us that for the honour of his profession he feels bound to let us know that Mr. Ashmead-Bartlett has secretly sent home an uncensored despatch per, of all people in the world, Mr. Murdoch!

I had begun to wonder what had come over Mr. Murdoch and now it seems he has come over me!

The next paper on the table was my draft cable of advice for M. Millerand. Joffre wants his four Divisions to land on the Peninsula; Sarrail wishes them to work along the Asiatic side. No doubt the views of the French Generals are being coloured by their wish to stand as clear as they can of British command. So I have been careful to sweep away that obstacle by offering to stand down. Now they can fix up the problem on its merits:—

"Closest consideration has been given to your No. 7843, cipher. Until now I have consistently opposed a landing on the Asiatic side of the Straits with less than 6 divisions—see my telegram No. M.F. 349 of 19th June. On Gallipoli Peninsula area and difficulties of supply limited liabilities of the opposing forces whereas mainland of Asia gave scope for the deployment of large forces by the enemy. Now, however, the situation is clearing up and there has been a great change in the conditions.

"The Turks had formerly 10,000 to 12,000 men on Asiatic shore with large reserves on the Peninsula available to cross over there if necessary. Now Anatolia and Syria have been drained of troops to oppose us on the Peninsula where the Turks have far longer front to hold, namely, 9½ miles instead of 2½, whilst our position and strength at Suvla and Anzac are more threatening to their communications than was our position at Anzac in June. If, therefore, we can be strong enough to maintain pressure on whole Turkish line on the Peninsula it is unlikely that Turks could detach troops to oppose French landing on Asiatic shore. Assuming even that the Turks were enabled to release every soldier from Thrace by a definite understanding being arrived at with Bulgaria, I calculate they might gather a total of five divisions but of these probably only one or at most two would be on Asiatic side at beginning of the operations and would probably be scattered so that opposition in strength to surprise landing is improbable. Moreover, only one of the divisions is composed of good Nizam troops, others believed to be not up to establishment. The Asiatic coast down to Yukeri Bay is now heavily trenched but I do not think much has been done below that point. Supposing, therefore, French bring good divisions at war strength and succeed in keeping their destination secret, they appear to have a good chance of obtaining good covering positions without much loss and of thence advancing on Chanak defeating any Turkish forces sent against them. Degree of their success would depend on whether the entrenched positions which have been prepared on the Kum Kale—Ehren Keui road could be turned by the good road which leads from Yukeri through Ezine and Ishiklar to Chanak, as it is unlikely that Turks would be able to quickly organize new defensive positions with entirely new line of supply. The distance of landing place from objective is a secondary consideration. It is easier to march and fight 100 miles than to take three lines of trenches. In the one case there is room for manoeuvre at which Turks are bad while in the other case siege warfare results at which the Turks stand supreme. Once Ehren Keui reached, the Turks between that place and Kum Kale would be forced to retire and Kum Kale would become our base, thereby greatly shortening line of supply. Supposing Turks endeavoured to make bridgehead on Chanak promontory, the country is so big that large forces would be necessary and once the Turks were cut off from North their supply difficulties would be most serious. French possession of Chanak should be equivalent to victory, but as Turks are stubborn fellows it is better to confine anticipations to commencement of results which I consider would be as follows:—Cutting off of Turkish supply line Chanak to Akbashi Liman. Narrows would be useless to Turks. Nagara communications could be cut. Our 15-inch howitzer could be used to batter Kilid Bahr forts. Allied Fleets should be able to enter Marmora without loss.

"Turning to alternatives. If French were held up and unable to reach Chanak, at least the last Turkish reserves would have been used up and I think happy termination of operations though postponed would begin to come clearly into view. Supposing the worst happened and that the French were compelled to fall back after landing. In that case a clear road for retirement to a bridgehead would be open. Positions covering landing could be taken up and there they would continue to draw towards them considerable Turkish forces which would otherwise be available for use on Peninsula.

"Finally, greater difficulties beset all other schemes. The notorious military disadvantages of independent command would be less harmful if the respective armies were separated by the Straits than if they were mixed up together on Peninsula. As Achi Baba is now one of the strongest fortresses in Europe, it would be unpopular to palm off the Cape Helles end upon the French. Moreover, all the French here are, and always have been, dead set on Asia. If the French were employed at Suvla they would have to fight side by side with the British, a situation which, with co-equal commanders, would be a military absurdity. Were that course decided upon, I would ask the Allied Governments to make up their minds which General had the most daring, brains and experience, and if it were the Frenchman I would serve under him loyally.

"As to making the attempt to the North of the Gulf of Xeros: a landing there is certain to be opposed, and the Turkish reinforcements which are always held ready in the neighbourhood of Uzunkiupru and Keshan could arrive in strength very quickly and imperil the whole project. A further objection lies in the distance of the French intermediate base and great strain it would throw on Allied Fleets. Finally, it is all-important that absolute secrecy should be maintained. I suggest that it should be allowed to leak out that the destination of the French is Enos, this would probably have the effect of tricking Turkish troops in Thrace, as Enos is a destination which would gain most credence."

Birdie has at last worn off the fine edge of his keenness; he looks a little tired: General Russell, the New Zealander, dined also and was in great form.

18th September, 1915. Imbros. A cable to say that the French Government are anxious to form two bases each capable of supplying three Divisions: one to be at Mudros, the other at Mitylene. Is it business? In spite of delay, in spite of lost chances, is it business?