November 8th.—A Medical Board was summoned for this morning for the examination of a well-known rascal, and being one of its members I had an opportunity of a talk with the President, our A.D.M.S., Colonel Bell. I represented to him that I had long felt I would be compelled to leave the peninsula, although much against my will, but after three months' illness my strength had got so undermined that I could stand it no longer. I took no care of myself, otherwise I might have felt better now, but since I landed on April 25, I have not been a day off duty. As Colonel Bell remarked, I should have left Suvla long ago. I am now writing on a hospital ship, trying to feel that I have done my bit.
Dickie, who also goes on sick leave, and I decided to go forthwith, so we packed up all our belongings. We boarded a lighter at the C.C.S. and came out to the hospital ship "Rewa". The evening as we came out was beautifully still, with a little haze hanging about the foot hills, chilly, and we were glad to put on our overcoats. I felt depressed at being forced to leave, and cowardly when I thought of those left behind; still on gazing around I felt astonished I had been able "to stick it" so long. The monotony lately has been very trying; living on a small piece of ground with the enemy in front and the sea behind, and no progress being made, could have been nothing else.
November 9th.—Went to bed early last night and had a. talk with Major Turner of the 53rd C.C.S. who was in bed alongside. Talking about our being shelled on Sunday he said his hospital was twice shelled, getting three shells each time, and they were informed, with apologies, by the Turks that they were retaliating. On one occasion one of our naval shells landed in the middle of a Turkish Ambulance. This confirms my theory that our shelling was an act of retaliation for something or other. Although the door and port-holes were open last night I was greatly oppressed by the closeness of the atmosphere, due to my revelling in the open air for many months.
November 10th.—We lay at anchor outside the boom of Suvla Bay till mid-day to-day, when we had got on board nearly 500 sick and wounded, and we set sail for Lemnos. Our boat is so coated with barnacles that her speed is reduced from 18 to 12 knots. Two monitors were firing at Achi Baba as we came opposite it. Each had two guns and the four were fired together. We passed close to one which gave a magnificent roar, the like of which I am not likely to hear again for many a day.
The sick officers occupy one table in the saloon, the Staff eating at a separate table. The latter a well-fed, happy lot, the others yellow and jaundiced, and looking very weary.
November 11th.—We reached Lemnos yesterday at 6 p.m. and anchored in the outer harbour with four other hospital ships and many transports. Our boat has orders to proceed to Alexandria and we are again on the move, leaving at 9 a.m. to-day.
November 13th.—We reached Alexandria at 11 a.m. taking fifty hours from Lemnos. On the pier at which we drew up stood a train refulgent in stars and crescents. This was soon filled, and passed off, into the unknown—likely Cairo.
Next, how was I to get a wire off? Quite easy, said some one. You see that lady along there with the green umbrella, that is Lady C—— who meets all boats and looks after such things. Lady C. soon gets off a bale on which she has been sitting, and stalks slowly down our way, gets a bundle of what turns out to be telegram forms and awaits the hoisting of the gangway, a great lumbering affair which it takes an army of multi-coloured Egyptians to shove along on its wheels. Then they swing it round, amidst great shouting in chorus, and nearly catch her ladyship's shins in so doing, but she is wide awake, jumps back, digs the hand that is not holding the green umbrella into her waist, her head jerks a little, and I can imagine she is consigning all these Egyptians to a certain place. She comes on board where all are very deferential, and she is asked to lunch with us but declines.
November 14th.—Ras-el-Tin Military Hospital. Towards evening several officers were brought to this hospital yesterday. We enjoyed our ride through the streets, all gay with the brilliant colours of the East. At last we entered a big gateway and landed in an exquisite garden. At the distant end of this is a tall lighthouse, the hospital being at the very point of a long promontory on the east side of the harbour entrance. The garden is full of palms and flowers of the most brilliant hues.
A medical fellow came round and gave me an overhaul this morning. He tells me my heart is dilated—hence my severe breathlessness. I was told I must go to England, but need not expect to get away for a fortnight or so. The hospital is very airy but uncomfortably warm.