November 18th.—I am already feeling much better. I have a wonderful appetite and am thoroughly enjoying the good things set before me. My weight is now 10 stones 1 lb., and I must have gained at least 2 or 3 lbs. since I left the peninsula. I am still over 2 stones under my usual weight. I took a walk half-way up the promontory to the Khedivial Palace where I hoped to walk through the gardens. I had seen in the papers that the Sultan was up the Nile, but the two Egyptian N.C.O.'s at the gate refused to admit me, one saying, "de Sultan is in Alexandria". "Nonsense," I said, "he is up the Nile." "No, no, no," said the black, "de Sultan is here," pointing over his shoulder to the palace.
November 19th.—At mid-day I was ordered to pack up as I was to start for home. At the docks I was put on board the "Rewa" where the officers and nurses greeted me as an old friend. I learned that our destination was back to Lemnos, where I would be trans-shipped to the "Aquitania" which is booked to sail on the 22nd.
We sailed in the afternoon. The sea is rough, spray splashing all over the ship, the windows of the music room have to be kept shut, and it is hot and stifling—and I melt.
November 21st.—We reached Lemnos to-day after a run of forty-five hours from Egypt, a distance of 580 miles. The object of the "Rewa's" trip to Alexandria was to get drydocked and have her hull scraped. We could have done the trip in a few hours less than we actually took, but all last night and to-day we have had a furious gale in our teeth, which made us drop 4½ knots per hour. The decks have been swept by the waves all day, and the awnings blown down more than once. We now lie in the outer harbour, while the four great funnels of our next boat can be seen towering over the hills that form the south side of the inner harbour. The cold is intense.
November 22nd.—We spent the night at anchor outside the boom. They commenced to raise the anchor at daylight, but were stopped by signal, so that now at 10 a.m. we lie here waiting orders. The cold to-day is terrific. The wind is probably stronger than ever and goes whistling through the rigging. Our latest orders are to lie here till the gale moderates.
3 p.m.—During the forenoon the "Olympic" passed close to us as she entered the harbour, and is now anchored near the "Aquitania".
November 23rd.—We raised anchor about 7 and moved straight out to sea for 2 or 3 miles when we thought we were to go home on the "Rewa," which had been spoken about as possible, but it turned out we had only gone out to bury a man who died last night. We turned and were soon man[oe]uvring to get alongside the "Aquitania," but after very nearly giving her a bad bump we had to sheer off, and we have again anchored and wait for that tantalising wind to moderate.
In the afternoon we made another attempt to get on board the "Aquitania" and again failed.
November 24th.—After two hours fiddling about we managed to attach our fore and aft hawsers to the "Aquitania," and after breakfast we went on board our new home. This magnificent boat had 2300 patients last night and expects 2000 more to complete her load. She has a crew of 1000, thirty-six medical men and a large number of nurses. The "Aquitania" was at first a troopship and mounted four 6-inch guns, and has carried 7000 troops at a time, besides her crew. The distance from Lemnos to Southampton is 3080 miles, and with her proper coal, a mixture of Welsh and Newcastle, she has covered that distance in 4 days 18 hours. But for coal she has to rely mainly on the inferior stuff she picks up at Naples.
The fittings in the wheel house are most ingenious. For example, should fire break out the captain has only to open a cupboard which tells him where it is, and by touching a button he can flood any one of the six watertight compartments. A fan works automatically in this cupboard every five minutes, and if there is smoke in any compartment it is sucked up its corresponding tube. There are thirty-eight electric clocks on the ship, and as the time has to be changed continually as we go east or west, by moving the hands of a clock in the wheelhouse the hands of the thirty-eight move in unison.