Japanese bomb shells experimented with in Australian trenches at Gaba Tepe. They are fired by a trench mortar and have a range of four hundred yards. They have a small propeller to keep them straight, and explode with great violence, blowing trench to bits.
The first one tried fell beautifully in a Turkish trench at two hundred yards’ range, and exploded with great violence. Turks started kicking up a fearful row, and about fifty rushed out like a lot of hornets. Machine gun turned on them and scotched the lot. Great request now on our part for Japanese bomb shells.
News now arrives that two submarines from Germany have got into the Mediterranean through the Straits of Gibraltar, and that they are making for this part of the world as hard as they can go. Most of the Fleet and transports in consequence move off at nightfall for Lemnos Harbour, off the village of Mudros, where our transports concentrated before the landing. Looking out to sea from the beach, the feeling of loneliness engendered by the departure of the shipping is curious—yesterday I looked seawards and the ocean was dotted with warships, transports, etc., pinnaces darted to and fro, all was hurry and bustle, during which one had a comfortable feeling that at our backs were our Naval comrades, ready to help at a moment’s notice; now, less than half the shipping lies off the coast than did a week ago, and a feeling of loneliness, almost of fear, comes over me.
Hindu as well as Sudanese labourers now working on the beach. All the time that they are carrying anything on a cart, with six pushing, one of them, evidently in authority, walks alongside laughing and gesticulating, singing something in a Gregorian chant, to which the others answer by singing three words in a monotone. This goes on all the time and causes much amusement to the Tommies, who of course imitate, whereupon the coolies laugh and sing all the louder.
We have now built a bivouac of boxes on the cliff edge, the right side of the beach looking towards the sea, and from there we obtain a fine view of the scenes on the beach and the road below at the foot of the cliff, which is gradually being widened, built up, and extended round to “X” Beach.
May 25th.
Woke up in our new “bivvy” this morning. It is very nice up here now, overlooking Imbros. From my bed I see the Swiftsure fire a shot into the water. I get up at once, and looking through my glasses, see her fire another, this time between the Agamemnon, which is moored close by, and herself. Torpedo destroyer comes dashing up, and immediately makes big circles round the two ships. A tiny little pinnace slips out with only four sailors on it, and rushes round and round the Swiftsure like a little pup defending its mother. A bugle sounds several times, and men in white swarm out from all kinds of places and stand to stations on the decks.
A submarine has been sighted right among our shipping; it had darted like an evil fish between the Swiftsure and the Agamemnon, and the Swiftsure had kept it off.
At one o’clock news arrives that H.M.S. Triumph has been torpedoed off the Australian landing at Gabe Tepe, and it is a terrible shock to us all, coming as it has so soon after the sinking of the Goliath. A good many lives were saved—nearly all the crew. No doubt it was hit by the same submarine that attempted to finish off the Swiftsure and Agamemnon this morning. We are all naturally anxious at further developments.
A Turkish battery is shelling the aerodrome on the east side of “W” Beach. Some very good practice is made and one machine is damaged.