Later.—The above news could not be kept secret long, all knew it by afternoon, even the ladies from whom we wished to hide it.
March 24th.—As we approached Malta yesterday afternoon a big steamer coming from there wheeled round and returned to port; a destroyer dashed out and passed us at full speed, while we received orders not to enter Valetta as had been previously intended, but to go ahead at full speed. All this, we discovered by evening, was due to another transport, name as yet unknown, being torpedoed 60 miles east of Malta. We had crossed the spot very shortly before and must have had a narrow escape.
A great tug-of-war has been in progress for the last two afternoons. Our unit, which is the largest on board, had four teams, two of them managing to reach the semifinal rounds when their opponents knocked them out, but only after a severe effort.
We hear this morning that a third trooper was "plugged" somewhere in the course we have covered. If we are bound for Marseilles, which it is taken for granted is our destination, we are not taking the direct route. I am Orderly Officer for the day and having to inspect the men's breakfast I was up early—even earlier than was needful, but I was flooded out of bed as soon as scrubbing the decks commenced; half a bucket of water came through my port-hole during a roll of the ship. On looking out I could see land on our port side, which turned out to be Cape Bon. At noon we are skirting close in to the African coast. Either we intend to go through Gib., or we will go straight north to Marseilles, well to the west of Sardinia. Being now a long way west of Malta we feel that our chances of being torpedoed are perhaps less, but the neighbourhood of the Balearic Islands is considered anything but safe.
March 25th.—6.30 p.m. Darkness is coming down and the captain says that if we are not attacked within the next half-hour he will consider us practically safe. The danger of a night attack is almost negligible.
The weather gets much colder as we go north. We are about opposite the north of Corsica, and a cold wind bears down on us from the Continent. Two small birds have accompanied us the whole day, resting in the rigging at times, but spending much time on the wing. I cannot make out what they are, some say chaffinches, but that is certainly a mistake, they are too small. A lark fell on deck in the forenoon utterly exhausted, lying for some time on its breast with wings spread out. It disappeared among the lifeboats and has not been seen since. A whale, or probably two, was seen spouting a few hundred yards distant. Some said they saw their backs, but I could not say I was fortunate enough to see more than the jets of water which were repeated several times. Porpoises have been plentiful all the way from Egypt.
March 26th.—Marseilles harbour. I woke at 2 and thought we had reached our journey's end, but I could feel that the screw was still revolving, though slowly. Evidently we were killing time, there is no chance now-a-days of entering a harbour during the hours of darkness. By 6 we were steaming slowly into the fine Bay of Marseilles, high rugged rocks on both sides, in front of us the town with its surrounding girdle of limestone mountains.
("The Incomparable 29th" was a name well earned by this famous Division. The Gallipoli landing could only have been made by well-seasoned troops. Many and many a time I have heard the Anzacs wax eloquent over their doings. As fighters no troops in the world can surpass, or perhaps equal, the Anzacs, but they always declared they could never have done what the 29th did. The red triangle, the badge of the Division, they had a great love and respect for, and, although not over-fond of saluting, no officer with this on his arm was ever allowed to pass without a most deferential salute.
The casualties of the Division on the peninsula exceeded 600 per cent., having been practically wiped out time after time. I afterwards served with them in France and Belgium till early in 1917, when I went to the Base and remained there till I was demobilised in June, 1919.)