Gallipoli Diary

by John Graham Gillam

Last night work went steadily on—the loading up of lighters and the towing of these to ships, where the derricks, rattling away feverishly, emptied them. A surprisingly large quantity of all kinds of material has been evacuated, yet the beaches and the life thereon appear unchanged. All tentage and camps are to be left standing, and up to the last day as much transport as possible will move about on the top of the promontory. To-night the 89th Field Ambulance has left, together with some men on light duty. Also a large number of men from the 11th and 13th Divisions.

December 12th.

Nothing of much account to-day. Everybody hard at work, dismantling and getting away all impedimenta. It can readily be realized what a vast amount of all kinds and conditions of stores and equipment this impedimenta represents for an army of 60,000 men who have been stationary on a small bit of land for over four months. The work goes on, punctuated at intervals by a few shells from the enemy’s batteries; but it is quite normal shelling, and I feel sure the Turks know nothing. They can see nothing. The Staff work is excellent. The beach each day appears unchanged. Many troops, beach details, etc., move off.

December 13th.

A cold south wind is blowing and makes us all very anxious. Is it going to develop into another storm which will upset all our well-laid plans and so place us at the mercy of the Turk? These are anxious days. We are now issuing rations from the forward reserve stock in the C.R.E. nullah nightly, and our dump on the beach is now clear. Medical comforts are liberal, and also milk, which the troops appreciate, but bread and meat are issued only in very small quantities. The rations at Hill 10 are untouched, remaining there to be issued should we have to hold the second line of trenches, which are now complete. Work is being carried on feverishly for completing the third line. All work on the low ground has to be done at night, but on the high ground, where nullahs and dips in the ground afford cover, work goes on by day and night. Meeting-places have been arranged, where the troops will concentrate before proceeding to the beaches on the night that they have orders to evacuate. They are termed “posts,” and are lettered “W,” “Y,” “Z,” etc., the letters showing illuminated through a dark background. Of course, all such posts are placed in positions which are under cover. Each unit is to be guided to the post allotted to it, there to await orders, which will be telephoned up to the post from the piers. An officer of the Evacuation Staff will wait at the post telephone for the message from the beach, after marshalling and checking the troops on arrival there.

I see Brigade H.Q. each night now, when I am up at the C.R.E. dump issuing the daily rations. Their H.Q. are now in the same H.Q. as the C.R.E. had. Next door is the Brigade H.Q. of a Brigade of artillery, the guns of which are in position near by in front, just behind and round about. While there, an officer told me that if necessary his guns will be putting up a curtain of fire over the Turks should they attempt to follow on after our troops have evacuated the first line. Their guns are being left in position for this purpose, and will be rendered useless after the infantry have passed back. Two medical officers and about twenty R.A.M.C. men have been detailed to remain at the casualty clearing station after all troops have left on the last night. Their duty is to attend to any wounded who may have to be left to fall into the hands of the Turk, they of course giving themselves up as prisoners.

If it is at all possible, pinnaces from one of the battleships will be ready to take them off, provided there are no wounded. Their tents are being lined with sand-bags as protection against bullets. The Turk will not shell them.

December 14th.

The time gets nearer, yet the aspect of the beaches does not change. Shelling is about the same, but getting rather bad, at odd, but fortunately rare, intervals. The days are now lettered, but the letter of each day is secret to all but a very few. All we know is that when the last night does arrive it will be “Z” night. I have a shrewd idea that to-day is either “W” or “V” day, so that the time is near. It will be hard luck if I collide with a shell now, after dodging them all these months. What of the schemes for evacuating the first line when all those in rear are clear away? The line for the last few nights will be very thinly held by us.

The second and third lines are thickly wired with barbed wire in front, which stands in fences 8 feet high. At intervals there are passages through these fences to allow us to pass through on our way to and from the line. On the last night these passages will be closed, and the only way to get through will be by barbed wire gates across the few roads. Officers will be on duty at these gates, and they will have fixed thereon telephonic communication to the beaches. The final evacuation of the front line will be carried out as is the present daily evacuation of troops, keeping to a strict programme. The officer in charge of the last party down a certain road will report his unit and name to the officer in charge of the gate. This will be checked by the list which the officer will have with him of the last parties down, and if correct the officer, who will then know that the last troops have passed through, will telephone this information to the beach, close and bar the gate, and proceed with the party to the next line and himself report to the officer at that gate, where the same procedure will follow. And so on to the beaches, the only way to which is by the roads. After the last parties have passed through the last line, then those on the beaches will know that all have passed safely through, and that there are three lines of trenches thickly protected by barbed wire between the beaches and the enemy. The last parties to leave will be hurried on board the waiting destroyers, trawlers, and ships; the skeleton framework of the Supply depot, the remaining stores which have been unavoidably left, will be set ablaze by the igniting of petrol-sodden hay. The remaining officers will make a bolt for the few remaining pinnaces. That is the scheme.