Rowed out to sea and went on board submarine B10 with Phillips, and saw North. Actually had a drink. Also they have a gramophone, and it was absolutely gorgeous listening to familiar music, carrying us back to our past peaceful existence once more.
As we go up on deck to take our leave, a torpedo boat circles round us, a signaller wagging to us. The signal is taken by one of the crew of the submarine, transmitted to the commander, and reads, “Anything we can do for you?” He replies, “No, thanks. Any news?” and the torpedo-boat destroyer signals back some news that has just come through of progress made by our force in Mesopotamia on the road to Bagdad. We are told that daily torpedo-boat destroyers come along and offer to do little jobs for the officers on board the submarine, and sometimes send over delicacies, such as roast fowl hot, etc.
June 10th, 5.30 a.m.
Shells popping off at shipping again, and one hits the beach. Also the Turks in front get very busy, for four hours bombarding our position. I believe that they really think that they are going to push us into the sea.
5.30 p.m.
I walk along the road at the foot of the cliff towards “X” Beach. The road is now a good one, and the transport is making continual traffic up and down. It is very convenient, for transport can move not only under cover from the enemy, but in safety to a certain extent, for up to now but few shells drop over the cliff on to this road. I know a place, however, from which they can shell this road and the slope of the cliff, and that is on their extreme right overlooking the sea. From there they can look along parts of the road and side of the cliff, which is in view of their trenches; though other parts, by the coast, jutting out a little for small distances, are under perfect cover, and, in fact, quite safe.
Passing the Greek Labour Camp, I continue my walk to “X” Beach, which is about half as wide as “W” and a quarter as deep. Instead of the ground sloping up gently at the back, as is the case at “W” Beach, it rises at a steep angle to the top of the cliffs. Unlike “W” Beach, it comes constantly under shrapnel shell fire, but receives very few heavy shells, and is far more under cover than is “W.”
The road to Gully Beach, at the foot of the cliffs of “X” Beach, is not finished yet, and is in a very rough state. Just before I reach Gully Beach I come upon Brigade H.Q. dug in at the side and foot of the cliff. The battalions are “dug in” in as much regimental order as possible along the sides of the cliff, which are higher here than further down the Peninsula, and more under cover. Shells now and again burst, shrapnel chiefly, on the top of the cliff, and a few come over and fall with a big splash into the sea, but none burst on the slopes of the cliff. I hear, though, that one man yesterday was cut in half by a shell while bathing. A horrid sight!
This camp on the slopes of the cliff is now the Rest Camp of the Division, and while two Brigades are in the line, one Brigade is at rest. At rest, that is, from bullets, and, if they keep under the cliff, from shells, but not at rest from digging fatigues. The road has to be made, and so have the dugouts on the side of the cliff. They get good bathing though, and bathing out here beats any that I have ever struck.
I talk to the only two officers left of those who were with the Worcesters in England. They appear very breezy and bright.