18th August, 1915. Imbros. Freddie and I left in the Arno this morning; Braithwaite and his boy Val came with us. We sailed for Suvla via Anzac and held a meeting which was nearer a Council of War than anything up to date. Dawnay, Deedes and Beadon stood by; so did Generals Skeen, Hammersley and Peyton. Reed, C.G.S., IXth Corps, was also present. The discussion of the steps to be taken within the next two or three days lasted an hour and a half. Every one who spoke had studied the data and the ground and there was no divergence of view, which was a comfort. Our attack will have as its objective the seizure of a foothold on the high ground. Anzacs will co-operate. As I explained to the Generals, we hardly dare hope to make a clean break through till drafts and fresh munitions arrive as the Turks now have had too long to dig in. But if we can seize and keep a point upon the watershed (however small) from which we can observe the drop of our shell, we can knock out the landing places of the Turks. At the end, I told them I had asked for 95,000 fresh rifles, 50,000 in new formations, 45,000 to bring my skeleton units up to strength, adding, that if I was refused that help then I felt Government had better get someone cleverer than myself to put their Fleet into the Marmora. The Generals seemed satisfied with my demands and sympathetic towards my personal attitude.

As to the coming attack, the tone of the Conference was hopeful. They agreed that the nut was hard for our enfeebled forces to crack, but they seemed to think that if we were once to get the enemy on the run, with the old 29th Division and the new, keen Yeomanry on their heels, we might yet go further than we expected. One Brigade of the 29th Division has been brought round from Helles to put shape and form into the 53rd Division. Peyton's men are to be attached to the Irish Division. There is a new spirit of energy and hope in the higher ranks but the men have meanwhile been aimlessly marched and counter-marched, muddled, and knocked about so that their spirit has suffered in consequence.

No end of Yeomen on the beaches; the cream of agricultural England. Many of them recognized me from my various home inspections. Would like very much to have had a war inspection, but the enemy gunners are too inquisitive.

De Lisle tells me he has now been round every corner of Suvla and that the want of grip throughout the higher command has been worse than he dared to put on paper. To reorganize will take several weeks; but we have to try and act within two or three days.

Skeen told us that when the Turks stuck up a placard saying Warsaw had fallen, the Australians gave three hearty cheers.

The chief trouble in making plans for the coming attack lies in the want of cover on, and for a mile inland of, the Suvla Bay beaches. The whole stretch of the flat land immediately East and South of the Bay lies open to the Turkish gunners. This is no longer a serious drawback if the men are holding lines of trenches. But when the trench system is not yet in working order, and they want to deploy, then it is so awkward a factor that I would have been prepared to turn the whole battle into a night attack. The others were not for it. They thought that the troops were not highly enough trained and had lost too many officers to be able to find their way over this country in the darkness. They are in immediate touch with the men: I am not.

Lindley asked if he might walk with me to the Beach, and on the way down he told me frankly his Division had gone to pieces and that he did not feel it in himself to pull it together again. Very fine of him to make a clean breast of it, I thought, and said so: also advised him to put what he had told me into writing to de Lisle, when we will relieve him and I promised for my part, to try and fit him with some honourable but less onerous job.

On Hammersley's report, Sitwell, Brigadier of the 34th Brigade, 11th Division, has just been relieved of his command.

19th August, 1915. Imbros. Sat sweating here, literally and metaphorically, from morn till dewy eve. King's Messenger left in the evening. Altham came over from Mudros. He stays to-night and we will work together to-morrow when the mails are off my mind.

Hankey dined and left with the King's Messenger by the Imogene. He has been a real help. The Staff has never quite cottoned to the chief among us takin' notes, but that is, I think, from a notion that it is not loyal to Lord K. to press the P.M.'s P.S. too closely to their bosom. From my personal standpoint, it will be worth anything to us if, amidst the flood of false gossip pouring out by this very mail to our Dardanelles Committee, to the Press, to Egypt and to London Drawing Rooms, we have sticking up out of it, even one little rock in the shape of an eye-witness.

A shocking aeroplane smash up within a few yards of us. A brilliant young Officer (Captain Collet of the R.F.C.) killed outright and three men badly hurt.

20th August, 1915. Stayed in my tent keeping an eye on to-morrow. Put through a lot with Altham. Am pressing him to hurry up with his canteens at Helles, Anzac and Suvla. In May I cabled the Q.M.G. begging him either to let me run a canteen on the lines of the South African Field Force Canteen, myself; or, to run it from home, himself; or, to put the business into the hands of some private firm like the Mess and Canteen Company, or Lipton's, or Harrods or anything he liked. In South Africa we could often buy something. In France our troops can buy anything. Here, had they each the purse of Fortunatus, they could buy nothing. A matter this, I won't say of life and death, but of sickness and health. Now, after three months without change of diet, the first canteen ship is about due. A mere flea bite of £10,000 worth. I am sending the whole of it to the Anzacs to whom it will hardly be more use than a bun is to a she bear. Only yesterday a letter came in from Birdie telling me that the doctors all say that the sameness of the food is making the men sick. The rations are A.1., but his men now loathe the very look of them after having had nothing else for three months. Birdie says, "If we could only get this wretched canteen ship along, and if, when she comes she contains anything like condiments to let them buy freely from her, I believe it would make all the difference in the world. But the fact remains that at present we cannot count on anything like a big effort from the men who have been here all these months."

De Robeck came over at 4 p.m., by formal appointment, to talk business, and deadly serious business at that! He has heard, by cable I suppose, that the people at home will see him through if he sees his way to strike a blow with the Fleet. He takes this as a pretty strong hint to push through, or, to make some sort of a battleship attack to support us. De Robeck knows that when the Fleet goes in our fighting strength goes up. But he can gauge, as I cannot, the dangers the Fleet will thereby incur. Every personal motive urges me to urge him on. But I have no right to shove my oar in—no right at all—until I can say that we are done unless the Fleet do make an attack. Can I say so? No; if we get the drafts and munitions we can still open the Straits on our own and without calling on the sister Service for further sacrifice. So I fell back on first principles and said he must attack if he thought it right from the naval point of view but that we soldiers did not call for succour or ask him to do anything desperate: "You know how we stand," I said; "do what is right from the naval point of view and as to what is right from that point of view, I am no judge."

The Admiral went away: I have been no help to him but I can't help it.

Hardly had he gone when Braithwaite (who had heard what was in the wind by a side wind) came and besought me to try and induce the Admiral to slip his battleships at the Straits. All the younger men of war are dying to have a dash, he said. That's as it may be but my mind is clear. If a sailor on land is a fish out of water, a soldier at sea is like a game cock in a duckpond. When de Robeck said on March 22nd he wanted the help of the whole Army that was quite in order. He would not have been in order—at least, I don't think so—had he said in what manner he wanted the Army to act after it had got ashore. We are being helped now by the Navy; daily, hourly: we could not exist without the Fleet; but it is not for me to say I think the battleships should or should not take chances of mines and torpedoes.

Brodrick is quite seedy. We are all afraid he won't be able to stick it out much longer although he is making the most heroic efforts. In the morning I attended the funeral of young Collet, killed yesterday so tragically. A long, slow march through heavy sand all along the beach to Kephalos; then up through some small rocky gullies, frightfully hot, until, at last, we reached a graveyard. The congregation numbered many of the poor boy's comrades who seemed much cut up about his untimely end.

The P.M. has answered my cable to Lord K. asking for 45,000 rifles to fill up and for 50,000 fresh rifles. K. is in France, he says, and I will have my answer when he gets back. The 5th Royal Scots are down to 289 rank and file. I have just cabled about them. Something must be done. Certainly it must be "out" for that particular unit if they don't very soon get some men. The War Office still refer to them as a Battalion!

21st August, 1915. Sailed for Suvla about 1 o'clock with Braithwaite, Aspinall, Dawnay, Deedes, Ellison, Pollen and Maitland. The first time I have set forth with such a Staff. Not wishing to worry de Lisle, I climbed up to the Karakol Dagh, whence I got something like a bird's eye view of the arena which was wrapt from head to foot in a mantle of pearly mist. Assuredly the Ancients would have ascribed this phenomenon to the intervention of an Immortal. Nothing like it had ever been seen by us until that day and the cloud—mist—call it what you will—must have had an unfortunate bearing on the battle. On any other afternoon the enemy's trenches would have been sharply and clearly lit up, whilst the enemy's gunners would have been dazzled by the setting sun. But under this strange shadow the tables were completely turned; the outline of the Turkish trenches were blurred and indistinct, whereas troops advancing from the Ægean against the Anafartas stood out in relief against a pale, luminous background.

As a result of our instructions; of conferences and of the war council we had got our plan perfectly clear and ship-shape. Everyone understood it. The 10th Division was Corps reserve and was lying down in mass about the old Hill 10 in the scrub. We had to trust to luck here as they were under the enemy's fire if they were spotted. But very strict orders as to keeping low and motionless had been issued and we had just to hope for the best. The Yeomanry were also Corps reserve at Lala Baba where they were safe. But when they advanced, supposing they had to, they would have to cross a perfectly open plain under shell fire. This was the special blot on the scheme but there was no getting away from it. There was no room for them in the front line trenches and communication trenches to the front had not yet been dug.

As to the attack:—on the extreme right the Anzacs and Indian Brigade were to push out from Damakjelik Bair towards Hill 60. Next to them in the right centre the 11th Division was to push for the trenches at Hetman Chair. On the left centre the 29th Division were to storm the now heavily entrenched Hill 70. Holding that and Ismail Oglu Tepe we should command the plateau between the two Anafartas; knock out the enemy's guns and observation posts commanding Suvla Bay, and should easily be able thence to work ourselves into a position whence we will enfilade the rear of the Sari Bair Ridge and begin to get a strangle grip over the Turkish communications to the Southwards. From the extreme left on Kiretch Tepe Sirt by the sea, to Sulajik where they joined the 29th Division the 53rd and 54th Divisions were simply holding the line.

Only the broad outline of the fighting was visible through the dim twilight atmosphere and I have not yet got any details. Our bombardment began at 2.30 and lasted till 3 p.m., very inadequate in duration but the most our munitions would run to. Then, to the accompaniment of quick battery salvoes of shrapnel from the enemy and a heavy rattle of musketry, the whole line from about a mile due East of the Easternmost point of the Salt Lake down to Damakjelik Bair, nearly two miles, began to stir and move Eastwards. We had the joy of seeing the Turks begin to clear out of the trenches on Hill 70, and by 3.30 p.m. it seemed as if distinct progress was being made: about that time it was I saw the Yeomen marching in extended order over the open ground to the South of the Salt Lake in the direction of Hetman Chair. The enemy turned a baddish shrapnel fire on to them, and although they bore it most unflinchingly, old experience told me that their nervous fighting energy was being used up all the time. If only these men could have been brought within charging distance, fresh and unbroken by any ordeal! But here was just one of the drawbacks of the battlefield and no getting over it.

After a bit, I went down to de Lisle and found him sitting on a little spur about fifty yards from his own Headquarters with one of his Staff Officers. He was smoking a pipe—quite calm. There is usually nothing to be said or to be done once our war dogs have been slipped. A soldier might as well try to correct the aim of his bullet after he has pulled the trigger! Whilst I was there we heard—probably about 4.30—that the 11th Division had captured the Turkish first line trenches which run North and South of Hetman Chair. Real good news this. We were considerably bucked up. Climbed back to Karakol Dagh but, from that time onwards, could make out nothing of the course of the battle save that Ismail Oglu Tepe was not yet taken. As to Knoll 70, it was completely shrouded in dust and smoke. Sometimes it seemed as if the Turkish guns were firing against it; sometimes we thought they were our own. Far away by Kaiajik Aghala things looked well as many enemy shrapnel were bursting there or thereabouts showing our men must have got home. By 6.30 it had become too dark to see anything. The dust mingling with the strange mist, and also with the smoke of shrapnel and of the hugest and most awful blazing bush fire formed an impenetrable curtain.

As the light faded the rifles and guns grew silent. So I clambered down off my perch and went again to de Lisle's post of command where I found him still sitting. He had seen no more than I had seen. The bulk of our reserves had been thrown in. No more news had come to hand. All was quiet now. Our rÔle, in fact, was finished, and Marshall, the man on the spot, by now held our destinies in his hands. Firm hands too. The telephone was working all right and I told de Lisle to try and get a message through to him quickly saying that I hoped he would be able to dig in and hold fast to whatever he had gained. I have no fears about de Lisle's nerve; nor of Marshall's.

Went on board and sailed for Headquarters, through darkness made visible by the fires blazing on the battlefield. No shooting. Got on the wires and found no news from Anzac nor more from de Lisle. Crossed backwards and forwards the best part of the night between my tent and the G.S. tent, but de Lisle had heard nothing definite enough to report. Brodrick still has fever. Ruthven has been wounded.

22nd August, 1915. Suvla gone wrong again; Anzac right. Left G.H.Q. at 11 o'clock with Braithwaite, Commodore Keyes, Captain Phillimore, Aspinall, Beadon, Freddy and Val in the Arno and went direct to Anzac. There I picked up Birdie and heard the Anzac part of the battle. The Indian Brigade have seized the well at Kabak Kuyu, and that fine soldier, Russell, fixed himself into Kaiajik Aghala and is holding on there tooth and nail. There was fighting going on there at the moment but Russell is confident. How delightful it is to have to deal with men who are confident!

This success of old Cox's is worth anything. The well alone, I suppose, might be valued at twenty or thirty thousand a year seeing it gives us beautiful spring water in free gift from Mother Earth instead of very dubious fluid conveyed at God only knows what cost from the Nile to Anzac Cove. If we can only hold on to Kaiajik Aghala, then the road between Anzac and Suvla will be freed from the sniper's bullet.

Went on to Suvla and landed with all my posse, remaining in consultation with Corps Headquarters till 3.30.

Our attack on Hill 70 and Ismail Oglu Tepe has failed. The enemy has dug himself well in by now and, therefore, we depended far more on our gun fire than we did on the 7th, 8th, 9th and 10th. Unfortunately, the bombardment seems to have been pretty near futile—not the fault of the gunners, but simply because, on the one hand, the mist interfered with the accuracy of their aim, on the other, shortage of shell prevented them from making up for inaccuracy by quantity. Then the bush fires seem to have come along in the most terrible fashion and interposed between our brave 29th and the Turks. The ancient Gods fought against us yesterday:—mist and fire, still hold their own against the inventions of man. Last but not least, all are agreed the fine edge of the 11th Division has been at last blunted—and small wonder: there is no use attacking any more with the New Army until it has been well rested and refreshed with new drafts.

So far de Lisle has no clear or connected story of the battle. The 29th Division say they were shouldered off their true line of attack by the 11th Division, then driven in by the fire; the 11th Division, on their side, say that the Yeomen barged into them and threw them off their line. Had we been able to dig in we would have made good a lot of ground. But Marshall, not showy or brilliant but one of my most sound and reliable soldiers, decided, although he knew my wishes and hopes, that the troops had got themselves so mixed up and disorganized that it would be imprudent. So orders were issued by him, on the battlefield, to fall back to the original line. There was neither use nor time to refer back to de Lisle and he had to come to the decision himself. I am quite confident he will be able to give good reasons for his act. Many of the men did not get the order and were still out at daylight this morning when they were heavily attacked by the Turks and fell back then of themselves into their old trenches. Another case of "as you were." We have lost a lot of men and can only hope that the Turks have lost as many. I don't think for a moment they did, not at least in the Suvla Bay sphere, but Cox and Russell claim to have accounted for a very great number of them in their first retreat and in their counter-attacks in the Southern sector of the battle.

23rd August, 1915. Imbros. Not one moment, till to-day, to weigh bearing of K.'s message of the 20th instant,—the message sent me in reply to my appeal for 50,000 fresh troops and 45,000 drafts. In it K. tells me that a big push is going to take place in the Western theatre, and that I "must understand that no reinforcements of importance can be diverted from the main theatre of operations in France." Certain named transports are carrying, he says, more troops to Egypt, and he hopes Maxwell will be able to spare me some. If we can't get through with these we must hang on as best we may.

To-day it has been up to us to try and bring home to the Higher Direction the possible effects of trying to do two things at once; i.e., break through in France and break through here. We are to stand aside for a month or so just when we have made a big gain of ground but not the decisive watershed gain; when the Turks, despite their losses in life, shell, trenches and terrain, are shaken only; not yet shattered.

K. sees all the Allied cards—we don't. But we do know our own hand. We know that our Navy have now come clean down on the Ægean side of the fence, and have determined once for all to make no attack on their own. We have the feel of the situation in our bones and it was up to us—I think it was—to rub it in that although the British War Direction may decree that the Dardanelles are to hang on without further help, indefinitely, yet sickness is not yet under their high command, nor are the Turks.

So Dawnay, who is making a name for himself as a master of plain business diction, was told off to draft me an answer to the War Office which should remove as many beams as possible out of their optics. He overdid it: the whole tone of it indeed was despondent, so much so that, as I told Braithwaite, a S. of S. for War getting so dark a presentment of our prospects would be bound to begin to think it might be better to recall the whole expedition. So I rewrote the whole thing myself:—

"(No. M.F. 578). From General Sir Ian Hamilton to Secretary of State for War. We will endeavour to do the best possible with forces at our disposal; we quite understand reason for your inability to send us reinforcements necessary to bring operations to a successful conclusion, and thank you for putting it so plainly. After the failure of the IXth Corps to take prompt action after landing I took immediate steps to persevere with plan in spite of absence of surprise and reinforced northern wing with 2nd Mounted Division from Egypt and XXIXth Division from Cape Helles. These movements and the necessary reorganization of the IXth Corps formations which had become very mixed took time, so that I was not able to renew the attack until 21st August.

"By then enemy positions in Ratilva Valley had been immeasurably strengthened and I was confronted with the difficulty that if I could not drive the Turks back between Anafarta Sagir and Biyuk Anafarta my new line from right of old Anzac position to sea coast North-east of Suvla Bay would be more than I could hold with the troops at my disposal. It would thus be a case of giving up either Anzac Cove or Suvla Bay. Therefore, as a preliminary step to my fresh offensive I determined to mass every man available against Ismail Oglu Tepe which position it was necessary for me to capture whether as a first step towards clearing the valley, or, if this proved impossible and I was thrown on the defensive, to secure comparative immunity from shell fire either for Suvla Bay or Anzac Cove.

"De Lisle planned the attack well. The LIIIrd and the LIVth Divisions were to hold enemy from Sulajik to Kiretch Tepe Sirt, and XXIXth Division and XIth Division were to attack Ismail Oglu Tepe with two Brigades of Xth Division and the IInd Mounted Division (5,000 rifles) in corps reserve. I arranged that General Birdwood should co-operate by swinging his left flank to Susak Kuyu and Kaiajik Aghala.

"The troops attacked with great dash and stormed the lower slopes of the hill in spite of strong entrenchments, but I regret to say they were not able to attain their objective nor even to consolidate the position gained and yesterday found the whole line back in their original trenches except the left of the Australians where one battalion of Gurkhas and new Australian Battalion continue to hold Susak Kuyu. Casualties not yet to hand, but I fear they amounted to some 6,000 in all. This renewed failure combined with the heavy total casualties since 6th August, and the fact that sickness has been greatly on the increase during the last fortnight has profoundly modified my position, and as you cannot now give me further reinforcements it is only possible for me to remain on the defensive. Naturally, I shall keep on trying to harry the Turks by local attacks and thus keep alive the offensive spirit but it must be stated plainly that no decisive success is to be looked for until such time as reinforcements can be sent.

"The total casualties including sick since 6th August amount to 40,000, and my total force is now only 85,000, of which the fighting strength is 68,000. The French fighting strength is about 15,000. Sick casualties are becoming abnormal chiefly owing to troops other than late arrivals being worn out with hardship and incessant shell fire, from which even when in reserve they are never free. Where Anzac evacuated 100 a day they are now evacuating 500, where Royal Naval Division evacuated 10 they are now evacuating 60. The result is that I have only some 50,000 men in the North to hold a line from the right of Anzac to the sea North-east of Suvla, a distance of 23,000 yards.

"When there is no serious engagement, but only daily trench fighting, the average net wastage from sickness and war is 24 per cent. of fighting strength per month. The Anzac Corps, the XXIXth Division and the XLIInd Division are very tired and need a rest badly. Keeping these conditions in view, it appears inevitable that within the next fortnight I shall be compelled to relinquish either Suvla Bay or Anzac Cove, and must also envisage the possibility of a still further reduction of my front in the near future. Taking the first question of abandoning Anzac Cove and closing to the North, Suvla Bay is now netted and comparatively secure from torpedo attack. Further, it offers certain facilities for disembarkation in winter gales. It has, therefore, some decided advantages but though I should be able to hold it safely at present, it would present no facilities for further contraction of my line to meet the future wastage of my force. On the other hand, by retiring South of Suvla I could first hold a line Lala Baba—Yilghin Burnu—Kaiajik Aghala, and then, when normal wastage diminished my strength below this limit I could, if necessary, withdraw into the original Anzac position. For these reasons it must probably be Suvla and not Anzac which must be given up, though on account of its advantages as indicated above, and on account of the moral effect of retiring, you may rely on my not relinquishing it a single day before I am compelled.

"I do not wish to paint a gloomy picture. It is a simple problem of arithmetic and measurement. On the basis of normal wastage and the present scale of drafts my total fighting strength by the middle of December, including the French, will be only, say, 60,000. Of this force, a certain percentage must of necessity be resting off the peninsula, and the remainder will only suffice to hold Cape Helles and the original Anzac line unless, of course, the enemy collapses. Until now, however, the Turks replace casualties promptly, although frequently by untrained men. Also our other foe, sickness, may abate, but seeing how tired are the bulk of my force, I doubt if it would be wise to reckon on this."

At 11.15, red hot from France, there arrived in camp Byng (to command the 9th Corps), Maude and Fanshawe (to command Divisions); also Tyrrell and Byng's A.D.C., Sir B. Brooke, nephew of my old friend, Harry Brooke. All three Generals remained for lunch and then the two Divisionals made off respectively to the 11th and 13th Divisions. Byng and Brooke stayed and dined. These fellows seem pretty cheery. Maude especially full of ardour which will, I hope, catch on.

24th August, 1915. Imbros. Been resolving yesterday's long cable. How often it happens that a draft letter, if only it is well put, fixes the mind into its grooves. My words were brighter than Dawnay's but the backbone was not really me. No one knows better than myself that a great deal more than arithmetic or measurement will be needed to make me give ground at Suvla. The truth is, it is infinitely difficult to spur these high folk on without frightening them; and then, if you frighten them, you may frighten them too much. That's why cables are no substitutes for converse.

To a Commander standing in my shoes, the forces of the infidels are not one half of the battle. The wobblers sit like nightmares on my chest. "Tell them the plain truth" cries conscience. What is the plain truth? Where is it? Is it in Dawnay's draft, or is it in my message, or does it lie stillborn in some cable unwritten? God knows—I don't! But one thing at least is true:—to steer a course between an optimism that deprives us of support and a pessimism that may wreck the whole enterprise, there indeed is a Scylla and Charybdis problem, a two-horned dilemma, or whatever words may best convey the notion of the devil.

The blessed cable is now lying on the well-known desk where K. will frown at it through his enormous spectacles. Then he calls the Adjutant-General and tells him Hamilton must be mad as all his formations are full to overflowing and yet he says he is 45,000 short. Next enters the Master-General of the Ordnance with a polite bow and K. tells him Hamilton must be delirious as he keeps on raving for shell, bombs, grenades although as he, Von Donop, knows well, he has been sent more guns and explosives than any man has ever enjoyed in war. Impossible to be so disrespectful to the Field Marshal or so inconsiderate to their department as to reject the soft impeachment. How easily do the great ones of this world kid themselves back into a comfortable frame of mind! Then K. stalks off to the Dardanelles Committee.

Turns out that Cox and Russell did even better than Birdwood had thought in the fighting on the 21st and the morning of the 22nd. They have killed more Turks and the line held runs well out to the North-east and quite a good long way to the North of Kaiajik Aghala.

Byng left to take over his command. Davies came over from Helles and stayed for dinner.

The Imogene sailed in with Mails. News by wireless of German Naval defeat in the Baltic and Italian declaration of war against Turkey. Well, that part at least of K.'s aspirations has come off; we have dragged in Italy. Now—will she send us a contingent?

Davies dined. With his ideas still framed on Western standards he puts it forcibly, not to say ferociously, that we must, must, must be given our fair share of trench mortars, bombs and gun ammunition. Fresh from France he watched the artillery preparation at Helles and (although we had thought it rather grand) says we simply don't know what the word bombardment means. Instead of seeing, as in the Western theatre, an unbroken wall of flame and smoke rising above the enemy trenches about to be stormed, here he saw a sprinkling of shells bursting at intervals of 20 yards or so—a totally different effect. And yet the Turks are as tough as the Germans and take as much hammering!

When I read the British Press, starved and yet muzzled, I feel as if I could render my country no better service than to kill my friend the Censor and write them one or two articles.

By surprise either Army can bulge in a sector of the opposing lines but, until one Army loses its moral, neither Army can break through. An engine will be found to restore marches and manoeuvres but, at this historic moment, our tactics are at that stage. To break through, Armies must advance some six or seven miles; otherwise they can't bag the enemy's big guns. But, the backbone of their attack, their own guns, can't support them when they get beyond five or six miles. The enemy reserves come in; they come at last to a stop. A three or four mile advance should be easy enough, but, in the West, that would mean just three or four miles of land; nothing more. But here, those three or four miles—nay, two or three miles—(so ineffective in France) are an objective in themselves; they give us the strategical hub of the universe—Constantinople!

Suppose even that by paying the cost in lives we did succeed in driving the Germans over the Rhine, still we stand to gain less than by taking this one little peninsula! A quarter of the energy they are about to develop for the sake of getting back a few miles of la belle France could give us Asia; Africa; the Balkans; the Black Sea; the mouths of the Danube: it would enable us to swap rifles for wheat with the Russians; more vital still, it would tune up the hearts of the Russian soldiery to the Anglo-Saxon pitch.

Victory by killing Germans is a barbarous notion and a savage method. A thrust with small forces at a weak spot to bring the enemy to their knees by loss of provinces, resources and prestige is an artistic idea and a scientific stroke: the one stands for a cudgel blow, the other for rapier play.

We take it for granted that we have to "push" in France and Flanders; that we have to exhaust ourselves in forcing the invaders back over their own frontiers. Whereas, content to "hold" there, we might push wherever else we wished.

I can well understand that a Frenchman should say, "Let the world go hang provided I get back my Patrie, whole; undivided and at once." Indeed, only the other day, one of the best French Generals here, after speaking of the decisive, world-embracing consequences of a victory at the Dardanelles, went on to say, "But we ought to be in France." Seeing my surprise he added, "Yes, I am quite illogical, I admit, but until our nine departements are freed from the Boche, world strategy and tactics may go to the devil for me."

Have been writing my weekly budget. Part of my letter to K. harks back to the first Suvla landing, and tries to give him a better notion of the failure to profit by the enemy's surprise. Not that I have yet got any very clear conception of the detail myself. No coherent narrative does, in fact, exist. New troops, new Staff, new Generals, heavy losses, have resulted in the confusions, gaps and contradictions still obscuring the story of those first few days.

Now that I am getting more precise news about what fighting there was, it seems clear that this great mass of young, inexperienced troops failed simply because their leaders failed to grasp the urgency of the time problem when they got upon the ground, although, as far as orders and pen and ink could go, it had been made perfectly clear. But, in face of the Turk, things wore another and more formidable shape. Had Lord Bobs been Commander of the 9th Corps; yes, just think of it! How far my memory carries me back. Every item needed for the rapid advance: water, ammunition, supplies and mules closely and personally checked and counter-checked. Once the troops landed a close grip kept on the advance. At the first sign of a check nothing keeps him from the spot. The troops see him. In an hour they are up upon the crest.

So far, so good. We had not another Lord Bobs and it would not have been reasonable of us to expect him. But when I come to the failure of the 21st, where I have a seasoning of Regulars—as well as a commander of energy—still we do not succeed. This time, no doubt, the enemy were on the scene in force and had done ten days' digging; the non-success, in fact, may be traced to the loss of the element of surprise; energy, in fact, was met by preparation. The battle had to be fought like a manoeuvre battle and yet the enemy were ready for us, more or less, and already fairly well entrenched. Since the morning of the 7th the chances had been rising steadily against us. Still, even so, the lack of precise detail baffles me almost as much as in the case of the first Suvla landing.