CHAPTER VIII
A HOMERIC CONFLICT
Mudros Harbour was deserted as we sailed through it on our way out, for all the warships and transports had already left. Just beyond the harbour entrance we passed the Anglo-Egyptian, on the decks of which the other half of the Zionists were crowded. We wondered what had happened to detain her, for she was lying at anchor; but we saw nothing amiss, and lusty cheers were given and received as we steamed past.
When we had rounded the land which guards the entrance to the harbour, the Dundrennon turned her bows northeastward and we steamed off towards the land of our hopes and fears, through a calm sea, which sparkled gaily in the sunshine. The soft zephyr which followed us from the south, changed suddenly and came from the northeast, bringing with it the sound of battle from afar. The dull boom of the guns could now be plainly heard and told us that the great adventure had already begun. How we all wished that the Dundrennon were a greyhound of the seas and could rush us speedily to the scene of such epoch-making events! But, alas! she was only a slow old tramp, and going "all out" she could do no more than twelve knots an hour; and it seemed an eternity before we actually came close enough to see anything of the great drama which was being enacted.
As we ploughed along the calm sea, to the slow beat of the engines, each hour seemed a century, but at last we were able to distinguish the misty outline of the Asiatic shore and, a little later on, we saw, coming to meet us like an out-stretched arm and hand, a land fringed and half-hidden by the fire and smoke which enveloped it as if some great magician had summoned the powers of darkness to aid in its defence.
Soon battleships, cruisers and destroyers began to outline themselves, and every few minutes we could see them enveloped in a sheet of flame and smoke, as they poured their broadsides into the Turkish positions. The roar of the Queen Elizabeth's heavy guns dwarfed all other sounds, as this leviathan launched her huge projectiles—surely mightier thunderbolts than Jove ever hurled—against the foe. Every now and again one of her shells would strike and burst on the very crest of Achi Baba, which then, as it belched forth flame, smoke and great chunks of the hill itself, vividly recalled to my mind Vesuvius in a rage.
The whole scene was a sight for the gods, and those of us mortals who witnessed it and survived the day have forever stamped on our minds the most wonderful spectacle that the world has ever seen. Half the nations of the earth were gathered there in a titanic struggle. England, with her children from Australia and New Zealand, and fellow subjects from India; sons of France, with their fellow citizens from Algeria and Senegal; Russian sailors and Russian soldiers; Turks and Germans—all fighting within our vision, some in Europe and some in Asia.
Nor did the wonders end here, for, circling the heavens like soaring eagles, were French and British aeroplanes, while, under the sea, lurked the deadly submarine.