Wednesday, June 16, 1915. Kaba Tepé. Rain. I was to have gone to Helles with Woods to see Dedez, but no boats went; it was too rough. I was going to talk about spies to S. B., when General Cunliffe Owen said to me: “Wait a bit. The shelling is too bad. We will go along together.” But I was in too much of a hurry. A shell fell in the gully as I crossed, and Woods came out to see where it had hit. It went into Machonochie’s dugout, where H. was, and blew him out of his dugout, black and shaken. It destroyed his furniture. I felt sorry for him. Ot tried to turn him out of the Intelligence dugout, but we protested.
The General has come back with the latest casualty lists from France....
Thursday, June 17, 1915. Helles. Thirty men killed and wounded on the beach to-day. This morning I came to Helles with Woods. As we got there a submarine had two shots at one of our transports by us. I was to have seen Dedez, but he had gone off to see Gouraud. George Peel walked in and took me round the beach, two miles on. We climbed on to the headland, in what he called “the quiet track of the Black Marias.” He talked of every mortal thing—the future Liberal and Socialist, the possibility of touching the heart of the people, the collapse of Christianity, our past and our policy. I left him and walked back across thyme and asphodel, Asia glowing like a jewel across the Dardanelles in the sunset. At night I talked late and long with Dash. Every Department is jealous, every one is at cross-purposes, no co-operation between the War Office and the Foreign Office.
Walked in the morning to the H.Q. of the R.N.D. with Whittall. We were shelled most of the way in the open landscape. There was no cover anywhere. It felt unfamiliar. I was unfavourably impressed with the insecurity of life in this part of the world, and wished for Anzac. In the evening we drank mavrodaphne and tried to get rid of——
Friday, June 18, 1915. Kaba Tepé. I left Helles in the middle of very heavy shelling, a star performance. A lot of horses killed this morning. A submarine popped up last night. As we came back to Anzac the Turks shelled our trawler and hit her twice, but without doing any damage.
Shelling grew worse at Anzac, and sickness began to make itself felt. Men were sent across to Imbros when it was possible to rest.
Diary. On June 25th I went across to Imbros with H. Woods and the Greek miller, Nikolas. Hawker was there, and E. of Macedonia. E. is very unpopular. If he takes a dislike to a man he digs around his dugout, until it falls in on him. The chief R.A.M.C. officer, an Irishman, was mourning over the ruins of his home. We slept uncomfortably on the ground, with flies to keep us warm.