(2) Our success in getting the 13th Division and the Indian Brigade unnoticed into Anzac.
(3) Our success in landing the Divisions from Imbros, Lemnos and Mitylene, at moments fixed beforehand, upon an unknown, unsurveyed, uncharted shore of Suvla. Of these three factors (1) and (2) may already be entered to our credit; (3) is on the knees of the Navy.
The day before the start is the worst day for a Commander. The operation overhangs him as the thought of another sort of operation troubles the minds of sick men in hospitals. There is nothing to distract him; he has made his last will and testament; his affairs are quite in order; he has said au revoir to his friends with what cheeriness he can muster. Looking back, it seems to me that during two months every conceivable contingency has been anticipated and weighed and that the means of dealing with it as it may arise is now either:—embodied in our instructions to Corps Commanders, or else, set aside as pertaining to my own jurisdiction and responsibility. To my thinking, in fact, these instructions of ours illustrate the domain of G.H.Q. on the one hand and the province of the Corps Commander on the other very typically. The General Staff are proud of their work. Nothing; not a nosebag nor a bicycle has been left to chance.[1]
Davies and Diggle, his A.D.C., lunched and the Admiral came to haul me out for a walk about 6 p.m.
Have written K. by this evening's Mail bag about the sickness of the Australians, and indeed of all the troops here, excepting only the native Indian troops, and also about our Medical band-o-bast for the battle. No question about it, the Dardanelles was the theatre of all others for our Indian troops.
Have now seen all the New Army units except six Battalions of the 10th Division.
French has written me a very delightful letter.