A different atmosphere pervades our ship to-day, a feeling of strain and anxiety is more or less on every mind, not that it would be apparent to an outsider except in a case or two. Bad news has leaked in all the time from the navy and our airmen, all the time this getting worse, such as the account that Gallipoli swarms with well-armed Turks, wire entanglements of great breadth and height everywhere, and, of course, trenches. We have plans of their trenches and gun emplacements, but these can only be roughly correct. Then yesterday the airmen made another reconnaissance, and they say they have found a great increase of guns. We may be outnumbered ten or twelve to one, and our having to face their well-defended positions in open boats is not altogether comforting, and naturally all feel a bit anxious. General Hare, our Brigadier, spoke to me on the "Caledonia," and I thought he looked worried, and is thinner than when I saw him last at Coventry. Col. Rooth of the Dublins does not look over happy. He came down to lunch, had a look at the table, and went up to deck with a cigarette, and at the present moment he stands near where I am writing with both hands in his pockets, peering straight down the side of the ship into the waters. Those of us with less responsibility are certainly less troubled; all are prepared for great sacrifices, and every one is ready to play his part in what will certainly be a great tragedy.
The particular part of the coast on which I land with the 89th Field Ambulance is a short way west of Sedd-el-Bahr, landing in the collier "River Clyde," on which there will be a force of 2100. I have already spoken about this boat. From what is going on I will be surprised if we do not leave Lemnos to-night.
8.30 p.m. Off! We set sail from Lemnos at 4.57, two boats of the A. class going out before us, but these two anchored outside while we led straight on. On coming on deck after dinner we found three warships on our starboard side, said to be the "Swiftsure," "Dublin," and "Euryalus," all in line, no lights on them or us. Our port-holes are covered first with cardboard and the iron shutters are down over it. The sharer of my cabin (Lt. G.A. Balfour, a relative of the statesman) and I wonder if we should sleep on deck, the atmosphere here will be uncomfortably close. The evening as we started was perfect, warm and absolutely calm. Now the moon looks watery and has a big halo, and wind is prophesied by the ship's officers. We drag three large barges alongside which prevent our going at much speed, and it is expected that we will reach Tenedos about 3 a.m.
April 24th.—Saturday. Reached Tenedos and cast anchor at 9.30 a.m. We had been delayed by the wind rising and the waves dashed over our lighters till they were nearly swamped. On our east we have the coast of Asia with several high hills near the coast.
All the transports—not many yet arrived but B. s. i., ii., and iii. form a little group—torpedo boats and destroyers, mine-sweepers, tugs and other small fry lie in a bay, and as if for defence, and no doubt that is their purpose, eight big battleships are drawn up in line facing the open sea. The famous "Horse of Troy," the "River Clyde," lies near, and the thought of spending the coming night on her lowest deck is not attractive. She is painted khaki on one side I see, but only in patches, the idea evidently is to make her resemble a sandstone rock—all very ingenious no doubt, but she will make a good target in spite of her paint.
I said yesterday that all the officers looked anxious, but in the evening all were their old selves exactly, and baccarat went on as usual among the younger officers who sang all their usual songs and yelled and laughed till midnight. I was in bed by ten and slept even better than usual, and it was with an effort I got up at 8 o'clock. The fact that I was in a new part and in the midst of a big fleet did not even seem to interest me very much. Nor does the thought of to-morrow disturb any one, and, as far as I can judge, it is not very often in one's mind.
We lie on the north side of Tenedos, near the foot of Mount St. Elias. Several of us were guessing the height of this hill, and none put it at over 250 feet although its actual height is 625 feet.
At 3 p.m. came a naval message ordering us all to be ready for transfer to our respective boats at 3.45—all hurry and bustle. I have loaded up and am at present guarding a pile of coats, water-bottles, etc., belonging to our men who have hurried off to the galley to get their last meal for the day. The sea has been rough all day but is now calmer, and there is every prospect of fine weather for to-morrow's murderous work. Away to the east the Asiatic coast is beautifully lit up by the setting sun, also the yellow rocks that stretch to Kum Kale on the south of the entrance to the Dardanelles, while the hills on Gallipoli are visible but in haze. From my present post I look over the Plain of Troy to the high mountains beyond. To-morrow it is to be Troy Field and the wooden horse of Troy all over again.
10.30 p.m.—Arrived on coal boat at 6.30. Place in stern fitted up for officers' supper; two lime barrels and a few rough boards form table: whisky: tinned meat: biscuits: 2200 of us on board: all happy and fit. We start in two hours: only 12 or 13 miles to go: then anchor 1½ miles from land and wait for daylight and bombardment; then at proper moment rush in: said that coast is to be battered with 150,000 shells. Supper finished some time ago and am writing this in the mess I have just mentioned. Some sleeping or pretending; others smoking; I doing latter and sitting on board after trying to snooze with head on a big box and less high one in small of back; but too uncomfortable for anything, so whipped out my "bookie" and scribbled; light bad, only an oily lamp with glass smoked black, and nearly 20 feet distant. Queer scene altogether.
April 25th.—Sunday is just ten minutes old, and the ship's screw has started—we are off!