Last night they tried to disturb our rest by putting one shell over to us every hour. One seemed to come very near our dugout, but we were too sleepy to bother. What’s the good?
At eight this morning they get very busy again with their shelling, and at nine three of the big deadly shrapnel come over at once, followed a few minutes after by three more, and then later still another three. It is evident that they cannot spare very many of these every day, but after each bout the cry of “Stretcher-bearers!” is shouted down the valley. Shortly after, the wounded are carried away to the hospital, and this scene has now become a painfully familiar one.
It is very cold to-day, and the gale still continues, hampering the Navy’s work of landing stores.
The afternoon was quiet. A great gale sprang up at dark and blew hard all night. It is now very cold. One consolation, flies are dying off.
October 15th.
To-day has been cold and cloudy, with a strong wind. Artillery duels all day, with ships joining in. We were shelled this afternoon, but fortunately to-day had no 5·9 shrapnel. Cox and Gennison came to tea, and Walker and myself walked back with them. Called in at Brigade H.Q. Hear that now we are at war with Bulgaria.
October 16th.
At five this morning (dawn) the Turks began a general bombardment, chiefly on our right (Chocolate Hill) and at Anzac, but the subsequent attack on their part seemed to die away quickly. No news as to results.
At 11 a.m. an enemy aeroplane sails over. Our two anti-aircraft guns on shore start firing, and make such good practice that the machine quickly gets out of range and sails over towards Anzac, disappearing suddenly into the clouds. Many thought that she had been brought down, and a great cheer goes up and clapping of hands. Shortly after, however, she is seen coming back over the bay once more, flying low. H.M.S. Glory and Canopus fire with their anti-aircraft guns, but wide of the mark. She turns and sails up inland once more, perilously close to our shore anti-aircraft guns, which make excellent practice. One shell bursts dangerously near the machine, whereupon she dives, swings to the right, and climbing again, sails over Chocolate Hill. When over our trenches heavy rifle and machine gun fire break out at her, but she sails calmly on over Sari Bair to her base behind in safety. Result, honours with the enemy pilot, a damned cool customer, but a very nasty trip for him. It lasts under ten minutes, so that he has not much time for observing, but no doubt time enough for his purpose. The rest of the day we have the usual artillery duels, rather heavier than usual, and at 3.20 p.m., and again at five, we have our usual shelling by our old friend “Whistling Rufus.”