The battalions were thrown at my head when that grand statement was made as to the grand army I commanded; now where are they?
Started off with Taylor, Freddie and Colonel Napier (British Military Attaché to Bulgaria) for Anzac. No shelling. Went round the whole left centre and left of Birdie's position to right and left of Cheshire Point, and saw the new Australian Division—very fine fellows. Bullets were on the whistle and "the boys" were as keen and happy as any real schoolboys. Memories of the Khyber, Chitral and Tirah can hardly yield samples of a country so tangled and broken. Where the Turks begin and where we end is a puzzler, and if you do happen to take a wrong turning it leads to Paradise. Met various Australian friends—a full-blown Lord Mayor—many other leading citizens both of Melbourne and of Sydney.
At 5 p.m. re-embarked. Napier gave birth to a happy thought on our way back. His idea is that we should transfer the troops on the Gallipoli Peninsula to Salonika so as to hearten up the Serbians and Greeks and dishearten our enemies at Sofia. He has pressed his view, he said, on the Foreign Office. I asked him if his Chief, the Minister at Sofia, stood behind him. He said he could not vouch for his Minister's views, but that he, Napier, had power in his capacity as Military Attaché to correspond with the British Government direct.
K. himself did at one time toy with the thought of sending his New Army to Serbia either under Rundle or myself, and was only restrained by the outbreak of typhus in that country. But, keen as I was for the warpath, a very little study of the terrain and supply question was enough to cool my ardour.
Salonika is ruled out by history. In all the campaigns waged of old in these very regions the part played by Salonika has been naval, not military. There must have been some reason for this: there was; it still exists—geography! You could not, and cannot, carry out anything big via a couple of narrow cracks through a trackless labyrinth of mountains. The problem is a repetition of the Afghanistan dilemma. A big army would starve at Nisch and along the Danube; a small army would be swallowed up by the enemy. Unless they are going to trust to Bulgaria and Roumania for supplies, one British Army Corps is about as much as can manage to live and fight in Serbia. If they want to make Serbia safe their only possible chance is to push through to Constantinople! There is no other way. I said all this to Napier and a lot more besides and left him keener on Salonika than ever.
He actually thinks that from Salonika we could do what could be done by us at any time at the Dardanelles! Salonika is no alternative to the Dardanelles. I wish the War Office could hear Gouraud; Gouraud, that big sane man with local knowledge. How strong he used to be on the point that Greece lay altogether outside the sphere of any military action by the Entente. We can't feed Russia with munitions through Salonika, nor can we bring back Russian wheat via Salonika,—not much, seeing we would not be able to feed ourselves were we fifty miles into the mountains. Salonika is a military mare's nest.
Scatters Wilson and Captain Cheape dined and stayed the night. The King's Messenger arrived with the Mails.
Three cables:—
"(No. M.F. 654). From General Sir Ian Hamilton to War Office. Only two machine guns per battalion are being brought by the City of London battalions, the balance, by order of General Officer Commanding, Egypt, being handed over to Chief Ordnance Officer, Egypt. The former telegraphs that this has been done by your order. There is nothing that is more important to my force than an ample supply of these guns. I would therefore request that early authority should be given to General Officer Commanding, Egypt, to send on these guns."