A beautiful cool summer day, but flies still swarming about. Artillery very busy on our side. In afternoon walk up with Stewart to Brigade H.Q. Beautiful country walk through gorse, little hills and dales, trees and olive groves. On arrival at Brigade H.Q. and looking back, the scene is beautiful, with the bay shimmering in the sun and the Fleet and transports lying at anchor. The formidable hills in front look beautiful also, and hardly a rifle shot comes from the Turkish lines. But all the time our shore batteries and the ships are booming away, but feebly replied to by the Turks. On the way up we just miss coming under the beastly 5·9 shrapnel. We stay to tea with Hadow, the Staff Captain, now Major, and after have a nice walk back. Arriving on the promontory, we see them shelling the road that we have passed along. We find on our return that the beaches had been “strafed” again by high explosives, killing and wounding a few.
October 3rd.
A quiet, beautiful Sunday morning, the sea like glass. I have lunch with McDougall half-way up the high ground of the promontory, outside his dugout, right behind large boulders of stone. He provides us an excellent lunch, and we might be on holiday together. No firing of any kind. After lunch, however, shore batteries and ships get active, while the distant rumble of guns is heard from Helles. At four we have our daily ration of the 5·9 shrapnel or “Whistling Rufus.”
We move our Supply depot up to the foot of the gully at the head of which is IX Corps H.Q.
October 4th.
Heavy Turkish bombardment takes place at nine o’clock this morning over Anzac, developing towards Chocolate Hill. At ten, rifle fire starts, denoting a Turkish attack, but in half an hour it dies away, the Turks having been beaten off. During this time we are shelled by high explosives, and remaining in our dugouts, as we hear each shell coming over our way we cannot help gently ducking our heads. It is instinct, but yet very funny. We must look like nodding Chinese idols.
In the afternoon we have 9-inch shells thrown over to us, but it only lasts half an hour. Go up to Brigade H.Q.; not much firing in front.
October 5th.
A beautiful summer day again. Turks shell us from 8 a.m. till 10 a.m., but all duds. No news, and no prospect of any progress in this campaign. Our aeroplanes up.
At 9.30 a.m. the Turks begin and are very busy all day with their shells. Our batteries do not reply much, and the battleships are practically silent all day. We have no shrapnel, though, but at four o’clock about a dozen 9-inch high explosives come over, and rather too near us to be pleasant. One shell pitched right in one of my battalion dumps, the 1st London, just arrived from Malta, and attached to our Brigade. We are therefore moving them to a safer place.