To-day we had a naval funeral of General Napier and Colonel Smith-Carrington. The former was killed on a barge attached to us, and the other on the bridge. No one is to be present but the Catholic padre. A number of men are to be buried at the same time. The orders I received stated that all bodies had to be got rid of before we advanced. A pinnace from a warship was signalled for and all were taken out to sea.
Our advance from the shore began to-day about noon, our men lining out along the sands and the banks above, and gradually getting forward by short rushes. Barbed wire had also to be cut. But the advance through the village was the most difficult, as the remains of houses and garden walls contained snipers. I almost shiver to look back on a mad thing I did to-day—mad because it was done out of mere curiosity. I was asked to go to "Old Fort" beyond the village, near the outermost capture for to-day to see Colonel Doughty-Wylie and Major Grimshaw who were reported badly wounded. Both were dead, and as I was about to return I was next asked if I would go to a garden at the top of the village to see some wounded men. Afterwards I went right through the village alone, with only my revolver in my hand, and from the houses sniping was still going on. I had been assured that it was supposed to be safe. I peered into a number of wrecked houses—every house had been blown to bits—and I had not long returned when sniping commenced from a prominent corner house I had just passed. The only living things I saw in the village were two cats and a dog. I was very sorry for a cat that had cuddled close to the face of a dead Turk in the street, one leg embracing the top of his head. I went up to stroke and sympathise with it for the loss of what I took to be its master, when I found that the upper part of the man's head had been blown away, and the cat was enjoying a meal of human brains. The dog followed till I came upon three Dublin Fusiliers, who wished to shoot it straight away when I pleaded for it, but one of them had a shot at it when my back was turned and the poor brute went off howling. I had done my best, when going along the fosse of the "Old Fort," to save a badly wounded Turk from three of another battalion who were standing over him and discussing the advisability of putting an end to him, but I am afraid my interference was in vain here also.
Away beyond the heights we have taken to-day the country is very pretty with plenty of trees and vegetation. Here I saw dead and wounded Turks in abundance, especially at some of their own wire entanglements, several wounded being stretched out on the wires. Their wire is very barbarous and has long, closely set spikes, and the position must have been anything but comfortable.
Another counter-attack—the third—has just been made, and one of our battleships has joined in.
The Dublins, whose officers I have associated most with, have only three of these left out of twenty-seven. I came across two of these to-day—Padre Finn, R.C. Chaplain, whom I knew well and greatly respected, I found at the edge of the sea, with his clothes thrown open exhibiting a wound in the chest. And in the village, all huddled up among long weeds and nettles I found a lieutenant who sat at my table on the "Ausonia"—Bernard. In both cases death must have been instantaneous.
Here comes a fourth attack. Our boys are to have a night of it.
To-day only about eighteen shells were fired at the "River Clyde" all from the Asiatic side, only one hitting. We were putting wounded on board at the time and most of the shots were directed against these operations.
I have had no sleep since I left Tenedos, but to-night I feel very fresh, although the day has been long and busy.
All who know are quite satisfied with to-day's progress, and the hope that the worst is over cheers one. To-morrow we will have to move on, we must keep the Turks on the run. Some of the prisoners taken to-day are German.
(Being unable in my letters to my wife to give a full account of all that was doing, my diary was meant to fill in gaps, and as I had sent home a fairly full account of the landing much is omitted here, and I will give a more extended description as seen by myself. About this time in particular my diary had to be written at odd moments, and it was rare that I could go far without being disturbed, and writing a few sentences half a dozen times a day, or even oftener, often ended in a jumble.)